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She popped the last bite of a pastry in her mouth, smiling. “I now understand her rush.”
Michael stood, dropping his napkin on the table. “Then let’s go.”
Following him out the door, they had speed in their steps as they headed down and out of the front entrance. The carriage was already waiting. Michael helped Lydia to step up into the carriage and followed behind her, shutting the door behind him. He tapped the roof of the carriage to indicate to the driver they were ready.
“Riding alone in a carriage would not be permitted in the city,” Lydia noted.
“It’s a good thing we are in the country,” he grinned.
“You really confirmed that Mr. Weller was home?” she asked, skeptically.
“If I wanted to have you alone, I would visit you in your room during the night,” he pointed out.
Sitting across from him, she wondered whether she was disappointed by his answer or not. He could have arranged their entire outing just as an excuse to have her to himself, alone. By comparison, calling upon Mr. Weller seemed terribly unexciting. However, the thought that he would sneak into her room intrigued her.
“You have not, yet.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Would you want me to?”
“What a ridiculous thing to ask.”
“Yet, here you are, alone with me, in a carriage,” he pointed out.
“Hardly alone,” she argued. “The driver is just on the other side of this wall.”
“Very alone,” he said. “In all the ways that matter.”
He moved from his side of the carriage to sit beside her. Picking up one of her hands, he gently caressed her palm.
“Wexford is nearly an hour away. We have plenty of time together, of which I intend to take full advantage.”
Looking up at him, his face was very close to hers. The way his fingers moved against the sensitive parts of her palm and wrist sent shivers through her and she felt a warmth growing between her legs. She couldn’t help but think of how she had seen him the previous morning. His hand moved from her palm to caressing long strokes down her arm.
“You see, these are things we cannot do when the others are watching,” he whispered.
“There are many other things we could do if the others were not watching,” she suggested.
He raised an eyebrow at her. “You are so bold, my lady. Your desire and boldness make me feel sometimes like I would not be the first you allowed such liberties.”
“Yet, you are,” she said quickly. “Please, do not think me so immoral to suggest my impropriety. Michael, truly, I’ve only been bold with you.”
He cupped her chin, stroking her cheek reassuringly. She could not help her heart from beating more quickly, both from feeling his touch and from the suggestion that she was loose with her morals.
“I think you like the attention,” he said. “Just, why with me?”
She tried to look away from him, but he held her chin in his hands.
“You know me to be a rake. Is that it, that you think I might have you as I would, and you could just say that I took advantage of you?”
“No!” she cried.
“Or, that you would think I would compromise you without a second thought as to what would come of you?”
“Nor that,” she protested. “Michael, Your Grace, really. I do not know what to say -”
He pressed his mouth to hers, for which she was grateful. She had not come up with a good response. She wanted to confess that she was attracted to him, that she wanted him, but in doing so, she would also be likely to confess the feelings that were growing for him. Instead, she responded to his mouth, yielding to the advances of his tongue.
“I will not claim you, even here,” he warned her, breaking away from their kiss momentarily. “I would not have you go to the house of your future brother-in-law, looking like a wanton woman, disheveled and flushed.”
