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He slid his hand to her cheek. “But you said that you didn’t think another man would allow you to play like I would.”
She drew in a breath. “No. You might be the only one.”
Silence met her words. Her heart beat several times before he finally answered. “I can’t give you both.”
Disappointment rained down on her. She knew the answer was coming, of course, but the answer still hurt. “I understand.” Then she lifted up on her tiptoes and gently placed her lips on his. It was a light touch that filled her with a longing that stole her breath.
He kissed her back, his lips strong and so tender they made her ache. His hands slid up and down her back even as he slid her mouth open and touched his tongue to hers. The kiss deepened, lengthened, as she tested her response, touching him the same way he’d touched her.
He groaned against her. Pulling back. “I didn’t expect that response.”
She shook her head. “If there is no agreement, there are no rules.”
“There are rules,” he answered. “There are always rules and you should follow them, Cordelia. It’s important. To play with this sort of passion without even a promise of marriage is dangerous.”
What did that mean? Of course, she knew what he referred to socially. But there was a pain in his voice hinting of something far more personal. “You’re right, of course. But if I’m not to be your wife, perhaps you can tell me why you need to marry a friend.”
He let out a long breath. “That’s not something I can reveal to you ever.”
She gave a tentative nod even as he slipped away into the darkness. Cordelia wrapped her arms about her body. He was leaving, they’d dissolved their arrangement and she had no more answers. What had she just done?
Chapter Eleven
Two days later, Ash stood outside a merry little shop overlooking the waterfront. He’d been summoned. There was no other word for it.
His host, Thomas Moorish, had pulled him aside at Juliet’s wedding and requested his presence at the shop bright and early this morning.
He’d briefly considered returning to London. He could come back in a month’s time when Craven and Crestwood had their actual weddings, but his father’s lessons were too deeply ingrained. He couldn’t be that openly rude.
So here he was.
Mr. Moorish came down the street, whistling a merry tune and smiling as he stuck out his hand to shake with Ash. “Good to see you, Lord Dashlane. Thanks for coming.”
Ash pumped the man’s hand, relaxing. In truth, he admired and liked this man. More than he’d ever believed possible. He could picture what life might have been like with a man like Mr. Moorish as a father.
He was a good man and he saw that kindness and caring reflected in his children. Would it carry through to his grandchildren? Ash suspected that it would. The entire family radiated a warmth that made him ache with a longing he’d long ago thought impossible.
Then a new thought flashed through his mind. Cordelia on the bench of her pianoforte teaching her own daughter to play. The image nearly stole his breath.
“Glad you came, Ash.” Mr. Moorish smiled, shaking his hand. “If you’re free today, I’ve a mind to show you my operation.”
Confusion knit his brow. Was that what this was about? Showing him the business? But why? “I’d be honored.”
Mr. Moorish gave him a wide grin. “Excellent. Let’s head inside for just a few. There’s always a bit of paperwork to do in the morning before we head out to the boats.”
“The boats?” Ash had to confess, that did sound interesting. “What do we do on the boats?”
Mr. Moorish opened the door, leading the way inside. “Check cargo. Talk with the captains, assign times for each of the boats to leave the harbor. It’s a busy job and I’ve always liked it.” Mr. Moorish took off his spectacles. “I’ve built a nice, wholesome life here for me and my family. It’s a good place to get ahead in this world, away from the trappings of the city and all its sins.”
Ash looked over at Mr. Moorish’s kind eyes. Could a man really rebuild himself here? “You were raised here? Or did you make it your home later?”
Mr. Moorish took off his spectacles, carefully cleaning them. “I was raised here and then went to London to make my own fortune. It didn’t work out.”
Ash grimaced. “You’re fortunate you had family to fall back on.”
They moved into a back room and Mr. Moorish opened several logs, spreading them out on the desk. As he worked, he didn’t look at Ash as he softly spoke. “I know you don’t have anyone to rely on. Likely never did.”
Ash’s brow crinkled. “What do you mean?”
