“I’ll look after the shop. You take care of this. Get whatever answers you can.” Hattie squeezed her shoulder, then stood.
“What about the rest of it? Being an official partner in the shop with me?”
At the bottom of the stairs to their flat, Hattie turned. “If Caro agrees, then so do I.”
Connie rose. “And if she doesn’t, and it’s just us?”
Several seconds passed before Hattie sighed. “I won’t be the reason you lose your list, Connie. I suppose I’m willing, no matter what. It will be easier with Caro, though.”
Connie charged across the room and threw her arms around her. “Thank you.” Tears choked her words. “Thank you.”
“I love you. We’ll figure out the details when the sun is up. All right?”
Nodding, she let her cousin go back to bed. Gingersnap padded down the stairs, pausing for a pet from Hattie on the way. His inquisitive mew made Connie smile. Like he was asking what he’d missed. “Are you going to keep me company? These payment requests aren’t going to make themselves, Mr. Gingersnap.”
When the cat flopped on his side in front of the fireplace and gave her a slow blink, Connie returned to the desk, smiling.
“What the hell. It won’t hurt anything.”
“Nothing except my eyes and your dignity, milord,” came his valet’s reply.
Oliver laughed as he slipped into the ugly orange waistcoat and pocketed the ace of spades out of habit. Something told him that when the day came to leave the card on his dressing table, he’d know. For now, the ace, like the change in waistcoats, was part of the reality he must accept.
The newspapers at the breakfast table were depressing, so Oliver decided that what he needed was a day to play hermit. He’d sit in his most comfortable chair, wearing this godawful waistcoat, and cuddle his cat while reading a good book.
And that’s where Roberts found him, with the unexpected news that Miss Constance Martin had come to call.
She entered a few moments later, cheeks pink from the cold and curls escaping in damp coils around her face. The sight of her was simultaneously a punch to the gut, and a relief.
“Pardon my rudeness in not standing to greet you. I’m trapped by a cat,” he explained.
The dimple in her cheek flashed as she drew closer and spied the furry spiral in his lap. “I see that. I bow to the prince’s rank. May I sit?” She gestured toward the chaise.
With a small table separating the chaise and his chair, her seat placed her close enough to tantalize the senses, but not as close as he wished she was—on his lap. However, since Prince occupied that space, he said, “Please do.”
With anyone else, an awkward silence might have fallen. Except, this was Constance. While his mind raced with myriad things he could say—70 percent of which were not appropriate for mixed company, and the other 30 percent would make him sound like a bumbling youth with his first crush—she jumped right in. He couldn’t think of a situation yet in which this woman hadn’t found her footing andadapted to her surroundings. A rather marvelous talent, he thought.
“Please excuse my calling uninvited, but I thought we should talk after our encounter the other night. Also, I wanted to return this.” She held out a paper-wrapped parcel secured with twine. “It’s your coat. Thank you for letting me borrow it, as well as ensuring my safe return home.”
She didn’t even look nervous. Was this due to her ability to walk into any situation with an air of confidence, or did she have a history of kissing men?
If it was the latter, perhaps she might share some advice on how they should go on from here.
“Why did you kiss me?”
Ah, it was to be the direct approach, then. Having never done this before, he found he didn’t have an easy answer.Because the usual parts of my brain turned off and I became some kind of wild animal obsessed with fucking you.“I’m not sure.”
A quirk of her lips suggested she might be reading into his pause and making accurate assumptions. “Allow me to rephrase the question. Why, Lord Southwyn, did you kiss me as if your very life depended on it? From what I recall, you were hell-bent on defending my honor, nearly made poor Mr. Wellsley piss himself, then proceeded to give me the most erotic kiss in the history of kisses. Or the history of me, anyway.”
Oliver’s respect for her went up another notch. Exposing her vulnerability in that way was risky. However, that courage called on him to match it in kind. Vulnerability for vulnerability.
“Perhaps most interesting of all was the way you didn’t appear surprised at how things were between us. Almost asif you’d known we would be good together. As if you’d spent considerable time thinking about it.”
When he cleared his throat, it seemed especially loud in the silent room. Right, then. Vulnerable. Honest. He could do that. “I have spent quite a bit of time wondering about you. About… us. Together.”
Satisfaction crept over her face until Constance’s smile bordered on smug. “Wanting me, you mean.”
He finally met her gaze without looking away. “Yes. I wanted you.”Still want you, you maddening woman.
