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“Being in your mother’s employ has provided a steady income. I’m thankful for that. When my father died, life could have been so much worse.” This time when she smiled, it had more confidence behind it. “Perhaps I haven’t quite puzzled out what would make your mother happy yet.”
He scoffed. “Neither have I.” The captain shrugged and found her gaze again. “Won’t it be a grand day when we discover that secret?”
“It will.” The gist of the conversation amused her, and having someone to talk with was a rather pleasant aberration. “I thought it would be your safe return to England, but that apparently wasn’t it.”
“Perhaps it’s not anything you or I can think of. Mother is just… obstinate.” He launched from his chair. Apparently restless himself, the captain took to pacing.
“She might merely be sad and missing your father. Also, she doesn’t like to talk about anything deeply personal.”
“No, she doesn’t. For all her complaints and nosing into other people’s business, she’s quite private.” He shoved a hand through his hair, upsetting the popular style, as he came to a halt beneath the ball of mistletoe hanging from the ceiling. With a sheepish grin and a wry look in his eyes, he rested his attention on her. “We can at least seal the truce we’ve declared with the kiss she asked for.”
“What?” Felicity’s heartbeat accelerated. She gained her feet and crossed the room. Was he truly asking for a kiss? From her? With a glance at the mistletoe, she frowned even as worry and anticipation played up and down her spine. “I suppose.”
“For the good of the Christmastide season she’s adamant about creating.” The captain held out a hand. “A chaste kiss, I should think, yes?”
“Of course.” She put her hand into his, and the moment he closed his fingers around hers, the trembles gathered with maddening intensity at the base of her spine. Never had she been touched by a man and in this context. “No doubt she’ll cackle with glee.”
He snorted. “She does do that, doesn’t she?” Gently, he pulled her beneath the mistletoe ball. Then, he leaned close and bussed her cheek. “To peace and goodwill of the holidays,” he whispered and pulled slightly away.
“Indeed.” Oh, he smelled so good! And the strength of his fingers holding hers was enough to make her knees weak, yet he didn’t release her. She didn’t move. Neither did he. Instead, she continued to hold his gaze, peering into the mysterious pools of his eyes. “That was quite nice, Captain,” she finally managed to say in a rather breathless voice.
“It was, but perhaps it could be even nicer.” Before she could puzzle out exactly what he meant, he put his free hand to her back and reeled her closer. Confusion reflected in his expression seconds before he lowered his head and claimed her lips.
“Oh!” Felicity’s surprised exclamation was muffled, but when he didn’t appear to wish a cessation of the kiss, she relaxed and rested the hand he wasn’t holding against his chest. Dear Lord, my first kiss! Her eyes shuttered closed as he moved over her mouth in a tender attempt to introduce himself. Never once pushing for more, he explored the contours of her lips as if wishing to familiarize and assess. Her heart pounded so hard she feared he might hear it, but the kiss was so wonderful, so exhilarating that she curled her fingers into one of his lapels.
A throat clearing at the doorway broke the spell.
Felicity glanced across the room as Mrs. Grayson came into the room with narrowed eyes. Quickly, she sprang away from the captain. Heat slapped at her cheeks. “Mrs. Grayson, I…” She what? Gave into a bit of madness and kissed her employer’s son over and above what had been asked of her beneath the mistletoe?
“Well, Mother, Miss Cowan and I have met your requirements for a truce.” Drat the man. Why did he not look as discomfited or embarrassed as she felt? Outside of a faint flush rising up the back of his neck, he didn’t appear at all flustered. “However, I must tell you the kiss holds absolutely no romantic tones, so put that notion out of your head.”
“So I can see.” The widow came further into the room with a ball of yellow yarn in one hand. When she reached her previous seat on the sofa, she grabbed up her knitting needles with the other. She rested her gaze on Felicity. “And you, young woman? Are you in immediate danger of falling for my son?”
“Of course not, Mrs. Grayson. It was as the captain said. Nothing more.” So why, then, did a ribbon of cold disappointment curl through her chest at the knowledge?
Captain Grayson cleared his throat. “Might Miss Cowan and I go about our daily lives without more interference from you?”
“There will be no more arguments between you?” There was a shrewd glint in her eye that Felicity didn’t quite trust. It would no doubt mean trouble for her later.
“As I’ve said, we’ve declared the desired truce and have sealed the agreement.”
“Then, I’ll agree.”
“Excellent.” He clasped his hands behind his back, but when he glanced at Felicity and met her gaze, his eyes had darkened slightly. “All well, Miss Cowan?”
“It is. Thank you, Captain Grayson.” Confusion filled her chest to mix with the embarrassment and warm pleasure that his kiss had brought. And it had been so miraculous, she wanted to savor it in the privacy of her room. “If you’ll both excuse me? I… I’m suddenly feeling quite faint. Must be the heat in here. I’m not accustomed to it.” Without a backward glance, she fled the room with flaming cheeks.
Dear heavens, he kissed me!
How was she expected to go about her life now when the remembrance of his lips pressed so intimately against hers was seared onto her brain?
