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He felt it warm his soul. “That’s much too far to walk. Have you a carriage waiting?”
She shook her head.
This was the moment when any aristocratic bachelor worth his salt—or any gentleman with two shillings to rub together—would offer to take her in his own carriage, or pay for the return hackney himself.
Unfortunately, the carriage and horses had been sold long ago, and the only item in his pocket was a cursed list of the women Harryoughtto be chasing.
“Don’t worry.” She held up her reticule. “I can summon my own hackney.”
“I’ll wait with you until one arrives.”
“No one has to wait,” said Tina. “There are half a dozen hackney carriages idling by the square at any moment… ”
She looked from Miss White to Harry and back again, her eyes widening in understanding.
“I’ll just… go back to my book.” Tina gave Miss White a sweet smile and sent Harry a look of warning, then backed away to hurry off down the corridor.
At their approach, the butler, Norris, opened the front door.
The sound of rain battering the pavement filled the air.
Harry swung his concerned gaze to Miss White. “Have you an umbrella?”
She shook her head. “I have not.”
“You’ll get drenched,” he said softly. “We can’t have that, can we?”
Her eyes widened.
He had never wanted to kiss her more. Instead, he forced himself to turn to the butler.
“I shall accompany her to the hackney, my lord,” said Norris.
“That won’t be necessary.” Harry took the umbrella from the butler’s hand. “I’ll see our guest to her hackney safely.”
Norris inclined his head. “As you wish, my lord.”
Harry pointed the umbrella out into the rain and opened its ribbed canopy. He held it up with his left hand and offered his right elbow to Miss White. “Shall we?”
The moment was reminiscent of their first meeting. Him, proffering his arm, guiding her from a world she believed safe out into a storm of unpredictable nature.
As before, she curled her fingers about his arm trustingly and stepped across the threshold.
They were forced to keep their sides pressed tightly together to ward off the rain. Or perhaps they simply both wished to be as close to the other’s warmth as possible. The umbrella protected their heads and shoulders, but Miss White’s skirts ruffled in the wind, collecting raindrops by the second.
“This is very kind of you, my lord,” said Miss White.
He held her gaze. “I do not have a reputation for kindness. Either the wolf has changed his ways, or you would be wise to presume I possess ulterior motives.”
“Which is it?”
“Both. There is nothing I want more than to feel your body against mine. To steal a kiss. To feel your wetness. But alas, your virtue is safe with me. I am no longer the rakehell I once was.”
“Since when?” she asked skeptically.
“A few days ago,” he admitted.
The look she sent him was saucy. “Pity.”
