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He searched behind the large, gilt-framed mirror. “Nothing.”
“I was certain we’d find it in her bedchamber.” She plopped down on the bed with a frown on her face. “It’s somewhere else in the house, then.”
“We can’t search the entire house right now. It’s late, Beatrice.”
“It’s not that late. My mother won’t be home for hours yet.”
She sat on the edge of his bed, her hair escaping its pins and her cheeks flushed with pink. “Do you have any wine?” she asked.
“I think you’ve had enough wine. And I only have whisky.”
“I’ve never tried whisky before. Did you know that the word comes from the Gaelic worduisgebeatha, meaning ‘water of life’?”
“It’s sustained me over the years, but I’m not pouring you any. And it’s time for you to leave.”
“What were you reading when I arrived?The Wicked Earl’s Wishes?”
“Never mind what I was reading. We haven’t found the ancient manuscript so it’s time for bed.” Separate beds. In separate houses.
At opposite ends of a social gulf.
They reached for the book he’d set on the bed at the same time. Beatrice won. She held it up to the lamp. “The Ups and Downs of a Woman of Pleasure.Is it any good?” she asked with a saucy smile.
“Ungh...” And now she was sitting on his bed and reading a naughty book.
Good lord.Ford didn’t know if he could take much more of this, and he didn’t have another book toplace over his groin. Hopefully she didn’t notice his predicament . . .
She noticed. Her eyes widened behind her spectacles.
He placed his hands over his groin. “I was having a private moment before you arrived.”
“Apparently.” She flipped the page. “My goodness. Is that... is thatdone?”
Don’t ask her what. Don’t do it, Ford.“Is what done?”
“He’s underneath her skirts. He’s kissing her... in unexpected places.Gamahuching.It must be from French, but the Latin roots don’t suggest any vulgar associations. What an interesting word. Some words have unknown etymological origins, which always pose a challenge.”
And Ford was dead. Heart stopping, palms gone clammydead.
The woman was talking aboutgamahuching. As long as she didn’t ask for a practical application to help her better understand the word, everything would be fine.
Just breathe, Ford. In. Out.
“Perhaps I could include a few unexpected words in my dictionary. It might be a way to increase the readership.” She skimmed through more pages. “How fascinating.”
A lock of wavy hair fell over her cheek as she read. She brought a finger to her lips and moistened it before turning another page.
Ford followed the line of her finger into her mouth. Tip of her finger touched by tip of her tongue.
He wanted her so badly.
Someone had to have some sense of propriety around here. He lunged for the book and slammed it closed. “Enough reading.”
His voice sounded faint, like it was an echo coming back to him from a long tunnel.
“It was just getting interesting.” She smiled sweetly, with a hint of challenge that made him even harder. “You told me to live a little. To take risks.”
“This wasn’t what I meant.”
