I should have stayed in bed longer.
She lifted a small note and traced her finger along the ink.
I belong with you, love.
She brought the note to her nose and inhaled deeply, finding the traces of his scent. She loved her Leeds’s wooing. His messages were never long. Always short and succinct. Even this method—flowers and notes—was direct, and yet it was the consistency that proved his sincerity. He never missed a day.
But . . .
She wantedmore. And not just more wooing.
Impatience sparked in her breast.
The rogue tempts her with his perfectly sculpted body at their nightcaps, yet they only talk. The rogue tempts her with his presence in her bed, yet he only sleeps. She’d even joinedhim in a bath, but the only wooing then was the way he’d wooed her buttons undone! The man wouldn’t even touch her with a sponge!
You, sir, are by no means a gentleman!
And yet he was a gentleman by every means.
She suddenly laughed, finding the entire situation to be extraordinarily funny. She wondered if he felt the same as she did. Probably not. Her gaze flickered to the flowers she’d set down on the table. Even they were taunting her.
Ox-eye daisies.
Meaningpatience.
All his other flowers had been pretty and with various meanings ranging between purity, virtue, and the like. Leeds probably hadn’t delved very deeply into the meanings of the flowers he’d chosen. But today’s bouquet was pure mockery.
A commotion drew her gaze to the door, and it was followed by the sound of a gruff voice. “Where is my wife?”
Leeds?
“In the library, my lord.”
The next moment, Leeds strode through the door, his sharp gaze darting to all corners of the room before settling on her. He was at her side the next moment.
His gaze roamed over her from head to toe. “Are you all right? I heard Cromby stopped you in the street.”
Harriet arched a brow. “How did you know? It happened not even an hour ago.”
“A footman came to inform me. And no,” he said before Harriet could respond. “I’m not spying on you, love. It was pure coincidence that a servant saw the interaction. But they know to inform me when a member of White’s calls when I’m not home.”
“You’re worried they will come looking for the book here?”
“One can never be too cautious.”
“The women aren’t in danger from your club, are they?”
“Not from the club, no. But there are too many unknown variables for my liking.” He brushed a tendril of hair behind her ear. “You are sure you’re all right?”
Harriet nodded. “I’m fine.”
His hand moved to caress her cheek. “What did he say?”
“Nothing much.” Harriet didn’t want to relive the moment and neither did she want to involve her husband and cause him to do something that would land him in trouble. It was better to just forget that odious man altogether. “He was just being annoying as usual. I put him in his place, and Mortimer interrupted his bluster.”
“Did Mortimer say anything else?”
“Should he have?” Harriet asked. “Do you mean because he is in charge of reobtaining the betting book?”
