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“I was thinking that you shared my opinions tonight.”
He might have stiffened again if his senses hadn’t already been heightened. Instead, he used his training and gave her a relaxed smile. “On what topic?” He hoped she didn’t say it. He wanted to remove her from suspicion. He wanted to believe she was innocent.
He wanted to kiss her because he found her beautiful and enticing, not because he needed to seduce a traitor.
“On the Irish,” she said.
Will felt his belly tighten and a cold settle between his shoulder blades.
“The conversation you held with Lord Palmerston.” His voice sounded easy and normal, but he gripped the dagger’s hilt until his hand ached.
“I’m sure I shouldn’t have said so much,” she said, looking away. “I forget everyone isn’t as interested in a lady’s opinions as my late husband.”
“I’m interested in your opinions,” Will said. And he meant it, even though he had an ulterior motive in saying so. “And I do agree with you. Palmerston and his ilk have managed the Irish situation badly. For all that the Foreign Secretary is a brilliant man who has steered the queen through many precarious diplomatic crises, he has his prejudices like any other British peer.”
She nodded vigorously. “That’s just it, isn’t it? It’s prejudice against the Irish. Almost as though they weren’t human and didn’t deserve to live.” She tilted her head at him, and the gesture was so adorable he was tempted to release his hold on the dagger. “But you are the son of a peer. Viscount Smythe, yes?”
“Yes. But my parents are...” How to put this? “Not traditional.”
“My parents are extremely traditional. They would be shocked if they’d heard me this evening. But I suppose living with Jack for so long changed me.”
“Jack was your late husband?”
“Yes. I never questioned my parents’ view of the world before I married. Why should I? I was barely eighteen. But now I seem to question everything. I’m sure Her Majesty was quite shocked.”
“I doubt much shocks Victoria.”
Emily smiled, and it was such a lovely smile that Will did loosen his grip on the dagger then. It would serve him right if hisweakness for her smile got him killed. “But she expects me to be quiet and docile.”
“Why is that?”
“Because that’s how I’ve behaved these past two years.”
“And what has changed?” Will knew the answer. He knew it, and he knew what was coming. He knew he should be on guard. He knew he should remember she was a traitor, but he seemed powerless against this attraction to her.
“You arrived,” she said.
Will’s heart clenched in his chest, pounding hard against his ribs.
“You make me feel...” She gestured hopelessly. “You make me feel again.”
Will felt as though an invisible force pulled him toward her. For days now he’d been resisting it, fighting it, swimming against the current. He didn’t want to resist any longer. They were facing each other on the bench, and it took very little effort for Will to lean forward and brush her cheek with his hand. She closed her eyes at his touch, and he slid his hand around and cupped the back of her neck, pulling her to him. His lips brushed hers, and he felt her arms go around his neck. He desperately wanted to put his other hand around her waist and tug her closer, but he couldn’t let go of his dagger. He’d been trained too well, and this evening had every warning sign of a trap.
And then her mouth moved against his, and it would have taken a train racing toward him to make him remember all the warnings. She kissed him long and slow, her mouth parting just enough that he could taste her. Will had imagined kissing her, of course, but he hadn’t thought she would be so skilled. He hadn’t considered how she might seduce him with her lips, her tongue, the soft catch in her throat when he returned her kiss.
Her hands dropped to his shoulders, and she pulled him closer. He wrapped both arms around her, feeling the heat of herward off the cool of the night. Her lips moved to his jaw and then just below his jaw to his throat, finding the little of it exposed above his shirt and neckcloth.
God, the feel of her lips was intoxicating. He had not wanted to seduce her, but he’d failed to consider that she might very well seduce him.
“You told me to call you Will,” she said, against his ear. He was hard now, his cock throbbing with every whispered word. “Isn’t your given name Willoughby?”
“It is.” He started to move his hand to caress her back, then realized he’d pulled the dagger out and had it pressed flat against her corset.
She seemed to realize something was amiss as well and leaned back. Her gaze flicked up to his. “Is that a knife?”
He brought his hand around and showed her the dagger. “Forgive me. I had it in my pocket and withdrew it without thinking.”
Emily very carefully moved back, out of reach.
