He opened his eyes.
“The bruises. The stark white of your shirt and cravat make them stand out.” No longer were there any signs of swelling on his face, but the fading bruises were distinctly green and yellow. “They will draw attention. Aunt will ask questions.”
“Check my bag.”
Sure enough, in the toiletry kit that Gilroy had packed was a compact of white face powder and a small tin of kohl. “Bogeyman?” she silently mouthed.
He nodded.
“We can’t use just black and white. Not during the day.”
Maggie approached. “If I may be so bold, miss, my lord,” she said, “you could use my box of colors. I know how to hide bruises.”
Ashley inwardly winced. No one as young as Maggie should have to know how to conceal bruises. “That’s very kind of you.”
Within a few moments, Maggie had retrieved her cosmetics case.
Ravencroft flinched when Maggie approached him with a brush. She bowed her head and handed the brush to Ashley, who pulled a chair from the table by the window and sat before him, their knees touching. He stayed motionless while Maggie directed and Ashley applied creams and powders that hid the colorful bruises on his face and around his eye, the barest hint of rouge to his cheeks so he didn’t look too pale, and a faint smudge of kohl on his lashes.
Ashley sat back and tilted her head, giving her work a critical look. At least from this distance, he didn’t look as though he was wearing cosmetics. The shadow of his whiskers was still visible. “One more thing,” she said after she realized she had been staring at David’s mouth. She didn’t like to use any artifice, but after Aunt had repeatedly told her to bite her lips to get some color, she’d made a special batch of lip balm subtly tinted with rose petals. She dipped her fingertip in the tin.
Maggie collected her cosmetics case and left to take it back up to her room. Sally had her back turned, making the bed.
Ashley touched her fingertip to David’s full lower lip and swiped on the balm, being especially gentle where the split was almost healed. She dipped her finger again to apply to his upper lip, stroking his perfect Cupid’s bow.
Her breath caught as he kissed her fingertip.
She cleared her throat as she put the lid back on the tin. “Here, it’s small enough to fit in your waistcoat pocket. Apply more after you eat or drink anything. It will protect the cut while it’s healing.”
The clock on the mantle struck the hour as he slipped the tin into his pocket.
Her heart pounded. “I have to go downstairs. Aunt’s guests will soon arrive for her at-home.” Reluctantly she took a step away. “Anything you have to leave behind, Sally will take in the basket to give to Gilroy when she meets with him this afternoon.”
With a glance at Sally, still busy at the bed, David rose and tucked Ashley’s hand in his, twining their fingers. “One thing we almost forgot,” he quietly said as he strode for the dressing room, pulling her along in his wake. As soon as they were inside he shut the door, plunging them in semidarkness. “I’ve been wanting to do this for days. Dreamed about it.”
She got only as far as forming “What—” before he cupped her cheeks, lowered his head, and kissed her.
He was fully awake, fully sober, and she was fully in favor of letting him plunder her mouth in a passionate kiss. Oh, my. No wonder girls were willing to toss their skirts and their reputation and elope to Gretna Green if they were subjected to kisses such as this.
He’d dreamed about kissing her?
Which meant he didn’t remember their first kiss, or realize it had not been a dream. The kissshehad initiated. He trusted her to stop him if he did anything ungentlemanly but he hadn’t been able to trust that she’d stop herself.
Before she could feel guilt for her wanton behavior, he slid one hand down her ribs to her hip and pulled her tight against him. She wanted to fist his shirt and yank him closer, to feel his heart beating next hers, but settled for wrapping her arms behind his neck, careful of the bruises she had stroked so often when his skin was naked, laid bare before her gaze, and plunged her fingers in his silky hair.
With a frustrated groan he kissed his way to her neck and held her in a tight embrace. “Honey,” he whispered in her ear, his voice as much a caress as his fingers lightly stroking her hair. She felt his pounding heart. Or was that hers?
Much too soon he sighed and took a step back. “Thank you seems woefully inadequate. How can I ever repay you?”
For the kiss? Her dazed mind began to clear. She shook her head. “No repayment is necessary. Mr. Westbrook gave me funds to purchase everything needed for your care.” She cleared her throat. “By the way, you should probably move your cash to a new hiding spot.”
David let out a strangled laugh. He caressed her shoulders, his thumbs stroking her bare collarbone, then leaned in for a quick kiss before he opened the door.
Following him into the room, she touched her bottom lip and felt the lip balm that had transferred from his lips to hers. He’d need to reapply. “Oh! Your hair!” She pushed him to sit down at the dressing table again and opened the drawer that held her ribbons. “We’ll need to tie yours back, since Gilroy has short hair.” He held still while she stood behind him and brushed his hair again. Did it give him frissons of pleasure when she touched him like this, as it had when he’d played with her braid? She gathered his hair in her hands, selected a black velvet ribbon, and tied a simple, neat bow at his nape.
Any idea she might have harbored of lingering in this small, intimate space with him was dashed when she faintly heard the front door knocker.
Aunt’s first guests had arrived. “Oh dear,” she whispered, squelching a sense of panic. How would they make the switch if there were other guests in the parlour? Westbrook and Gilroy were supposed to be the first to arrive, on the quarter hour.
