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“Is it?” The note of curiosity in his voice couldn’t be missed. She smiled to herself.
“It is.”
“I like to think that it’s me, but I think that you were always capable of this.”
“It has been you. Before you, I never knew that such passion existed. I feel more awake and alive than I’ve ever been.” Her pulse was racing, causing her hands to shake.
She turned towards him, setting down her palette and brush. He cupped her cheek in his hand, leaning in to kiss her, his lips warm and soft against hers.
“I also feel awakened,” he whispered, his voice sultry.
“You said that you love me,” she reminded him with a smile.
“So I do.”
She studied him. She could see his love for her gleaming in his eyes. They were such an impossible shade of blue, like the sky.
“I look forward to watching you paint all of the time,” he said. “Once we are married.”
She beamed, blushing. “That’s something I never thought to hear,” she admitted.
“Why did you think that you were going to be a spinster?” he asked, placing a finger underneath her chin. “You seem…”
Lucy sighed, her heart doing a nervous flip. She didn’t want to admit to loving Edward Russ. When she looked into his eyes, however, she felt that she could trust him.
She opened her mouth to say, but that was when Aunt Joan opened the front door downstairs.
“Lucy!” she called out. “I’m home!”
Both of them froze. Their eyes widened. “I’ll get her occupied, down in the kitchen,” Lucy said. “You slip out the back door.”
He nodded, kissing her quickly, one last time. Lucy ran down the hallway to meet her aunt before she came into the parlour.
“Aunt Joan! How was Mrs. Trent?” Lucy asked. When she arrived at the front door, her aunt was untying the bow of her bonnet. She was beaming, clearly having had a very enjoyable time visiting her friend.
“She was very well. She asked about you. I said that you were doing very well,” she said.
“Come!” Lucy said, grabbing Aunt Joan by the arm. “There’s something in the kitchen I have to show you.”
“Really? Is there a mouse?” Aunt Joan asked, giving Lucy the story that she needed. She grabbed onto it with both hands.
“I saw one, sneaking through the larder,” Lucy said, nodding emphatically. “It moved so very quickly!”
“Oh dear. I suppose we should get a cat,” Aunt Joan mused. She opened the door, peering inside. The larder was filled with jars of jam, for the most part, a tin of tea, a single sack of flour, and one of sugar. The two women didn’t eat much, thus their larder was rather sparse.
Lucy could only pray that Silas was silent. She didn’t know how to explain being alone and unaccompanied with him to Aunt Joan. Lucy craved it, however. She ached for him when he wasn’t there. When he had shown up, there had been no way that she would have been able to turn him away.
***
Silas moved as quietly as he could. He could hear Lucy talking in a raised voice, something about having seen a mouse. He could hear her making noise, clinking dishes to cover the sound of him leaving the house. He smiled to himself. This was just like in a play.
“Mice are such a common thing in the city,” her aunt was saying. “We should have gotten another cat, after dear Prudence passed. Miss Mulder’s cat just had a litter of kittens. I’ll have to ask her for one.”
“I think that you should,” Lucy replied. “Or else we’ll be besieged by them. I don’t suppose you’ll want a cup of tea?” Lucy began moving things around, making a very laudable racket.
Silas opened the back door, slowly. It made a soft creaking noise. The slower he went, the less it protested. His heart was racing in his chest. He slipped through, closing the door with a gentle click.
He knew that Lucy would secretly lock it again. Slipping his hands into his pockets, he walked down the alley between the houses, then melted in with the crowd on the street.
