Part of the heat warming her came from the shock of seeing her body outlined in such a way. Another bit came from the fact Andrew’s mother had seen it. Just the head, he’d assured her, but even that spoke of something naughty. But most of the heatcame from the knowledge he’d made this and carried it with him, kept her close. To remember her.
She inhaled deeply, but it did not stop the tear from rolling down her cheek.
He cupped her face and brought them almost nose to nose, wiping the tear away with the pad of his thumb. “I am glad it was your silhouette I showed her. I am glad I earned it. In the end. It feels like I’ve unlocked a chest or a door and inside is everything I’ve missed for so long. Thank you.”
He kissed her, a nip of her lip that skipped sparks into every part of her body. “If you let me, Melia-mine,” he whispered near her ear, “I will ensure you are never lonely again.”
“I suppose I’ll let you. Now come along. I wish to tour the Aster Square residences. Just you and me.”
“Excellent idea. I’ve already had a few bits of new furniture delivered. A couch, a fire screen, a chamber pot, naturally, a few chairs?—”
“A desk… I hope.”
When he kissed her this time, it was the start of something—the first chord of music at a ball, the first ray of light over a new day, the first downy flake to fall from the sky on a January morning.
“Yes, Melia-mine. A desk. Two, actually. The largest ones I could find.”
The hackney splashed through a puddle, and snow fell harder from the sky, but in one another’s arms, they were warm, so warm their cheeks had turned quite, quite pink.
Epilogue
March 1823
Spring whistled through the London air, and Briarcliff was calling. A new sensation for Drew, the desire to returnhome. But there it was, tender and new andpink. Like the first line of sunrise glowing on the horizon. Or like Amelia’s silk gown, the ribbon in her dark hair. Her lips pink, too, as they pursed over a document in the study of their new London location.
“Two have not returned, Andrew.” She looked up at him, her spine straight, a single brow raised high. “Two of our former clients remain with Tidsdale. Absurd.”
He leaned back in his chair and folded his hands behind his head. He smiled. “They’ll return. I’m not worried.”
She stood, rounded her desk, and sat on the arm of his chair. “I’ve been thinking… perhaps we should send Miss Angleton to Tidsdale. She can pretend she needs his help finding a position. And once he finds her a position…”
Drew laughed, a sound that came easy these days. “She’ll ruin his name with a single scandal. No, Melia-mine.” Hewrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her down onto his lap, brushed her neck with a kiss that tasted sweet. “We can wait.”
She huffed, a sound more breathy than annoyed. “You can wait. I’m impatient to see Tidsdale flicked away like the flea he is.”
He chuckled, rubbing his nose across her jaw as she tilted her head to give him better access. “I love you.”
A sharp inhale, as if she’d not yet grown used to his affection, given so easily and so often over the last four months of marriage. Then she sighed, and he knew. He was going to bend her over his desk and make love to his wife. Slipping his fingers beneath the hem of her bodice, he?—
A door banged, loud and hard from somewhere in the house.
Amelia gasped, jumped to her feet with wide eyes.
“Ignore it.” He stood, too, rolling his hips against her delightful arse.
She frowned over her shoulder. “Something could be wrong. Our first governess is to arrive for a stay today. What if she’s here? Let us check, and once everything is well, we can return here”—she turned and fussed with his cravat, leaning against the edge of his desk and sneaking tiny peeks at him from beneath her lashes—“and continue.” He scowled, wrapped his arms around her waist.
“It’s too quiet out there, Andrew. Come along.” She unwound his arm and clasped their hands together, dragged him toward the door. “Let us investigate.”
As long as her hand was in his, he’d go anywhere she led.
The hallway was quiet. In both directions. Too quiet for the large bang that had so recently sounded. Drew called up the stairs, checked in the butler’s pantry. Empty. Where was the man? Everyone else he found—maids and footmen—had heard the bang, but they knew not where it had come from. EvenAster Square outside their front door was calm and quiet in the early spring morning. Soon it would not be. Soon, the Aster Square Agency would open its doors, and the halls would ring with footsteps seeking comfort, seeking surety and support. And Drew and Amelia would provide it.
He shut the front door and glanced up the stairs. His mother was, presumably, still abed. She’d arrived yesterday with her new companion. And Raph would arrive tomorrow with Matilda. And Zander and Fiona and Atlas and his wife were staying for a fortnight at the Waneborough Charitable School of Art with Theo and Cordelia. His entire family had descended. To celebrate the opening of his London location.
Hell. His eyes itched. Must be spring. He’d sneeze any moment now. But no sneeze came, and he sniffed and stomped off to find Amelia.
She stood still in the shadowy hallway, a silhouette. With her ear pressed against a closet door?
