“A pistol, for one thing.” When she looked startled, he added, “As I said, a long story. But first, let’s go look for your salve.”
Not in the kitchen, however. He wanted privacy, and he wouldn’t find it there. Fortunately, on the way, they passed the back parlor, which would do nicely. After glancing back to make sure the footman couldn’t see them, he murmured, “In here,” and guided her inside.
The minute they went through the door, Joshua closed and locked it.
“You can’t do that!” she cried. “Not if you wish to preserve my reputation.”
“First of all, no one knows we’re in here.” He laid his coat over the nearest chair. “And second, because I am still hoping you will marry me, I doubt anyone will protest for long. Except perhaps your twin.”
“Thorn! What’s he got to do with it?”
“As far as I’m concerned? Nothing.” Taking her by surprise, he backed her against the door. Then he steadied himself against it with his forearm and kissed her. Hard. Thoroughly. Had it really only been half a day since he’d seen her?
It felt like forever.
It must have felt like it to her, too, because she threw her arms about his neck and kissed him back rather enthusiastically. She let him plunder her mouth for several wonderful moments.
Until she came to her senses and pushed at him. He drew back just enough to stare at her. “What?”
“I’m supposed to be getting you salve.”
“I don’t need it.” He kissed her forehead, her temple, her cheek. “What I need isyou.”
She cupped his head in her hands, forcing him back. He was shocked to see tears welling in her eyes.
“I need you, too. I need you not to be running around London after that arse Lionel. I need you not to get yourself killed for no reason other than male pride.”
“It’s not what you think. Trust me, I wasn’t in any real danger tonight. I had everything under control.” Mostly.
Of course, being Gwyn, she fixed on the wrong part. “You weren’t in ‘real danger tonight’? I didn’t know you were going to be in any danger at all! And you got that wound on your headsomehow.”
“I did. You’re right.” Shoving away from the door, he took his cane in one hand and her hand in the other and led her over to the settee.
He should probably tell hersomething. Fitzgerald hadn’t forbidden it, although Joshua would imagine the man didn’t wish him to reveal all to her either. But if they were to marry, she had a right to know what her husband had decided to do with his future.Theirfuture.
She sat down warily. “Does this have to do with the pistol in your coat?”
“It does.” He rubbed his chin, trying to figure out how much to say. “You see, I’ve been offered a post with the War Office that doesn’t involve going back into battle.”
“That’s wonderful!” she exclaimed. “I mean, it is, isn’t it?”
“It is.”
“But how . . . when . . .”
That part was tricky. “I suppose I should have said something to you before, but I didn’t come to London just to be your bodyguard.” He told her what his plans had been, and how the War Secretary had thwarted them.
To his surprise, she was irate on his behalf. “Not that I would wish you to return to the war, but he was wrong about your capabilities. You are as capable as any man I know, if not more so.”
He smiled. When was the last time any woman had championed him,believedin him, other than his sister? “As it happens, the undersecretary agrees with you. Mr. Fitzgerald has offered me a position that . . . well . . . makes more use of my brain than my brawn.”
She turned skeptical. “Then how did you get hurt?”
“It turned out that I needed to use my brawn to get out of a situation that my brain got me into.” He began pacing. “In any case, this post means I’d be living in London most of the time from now on. How would you feel about that? If we married, I mean.”
“I would love it. Most of my family is here, and eventually Mama might prefer to be here. Besides which, I grew up in Berlin. I’m more comfortable in cities than in the country.” She cocked her head. “But wouldn’t London be difficult for you, with all the noise and bustle?”
“Believe it or not, no.” He strove to figure out how to put everything into words. “It’s odd, really. I always thought that because loud noises sparked my . . . memories of the war, I should live somewhere quiet and secluded, where I wasn’t likely to encounter them.”
