He nodded again, inexplicably pleased himself. He shouldn’t have been; it wasn’t a surprise to him, but the expected, calculated result. But her smile always made him want to smile, too.
She seemed to realize the same moment he did that she was staring at him with warm affection. She blushed and bit her lip. “Sir—My lord—”
“Nick.”
She blushed deeper. “I can’t—”
“Please,” he said. “After all, we are partners, are we not... Emilia?”
She rolled her lower lip between her teeth, and he watched, fascinated. “If you insist. But it’s not—that is...”
“Is this about the other night?” he interrupted. “When you kissed me?”
She straightened so abruptly she seemed to grow a few inches taller. “What? You kissed me!”
A smile tugged at his mouth. “I kissed you back, I freely admit.”
She gaped at him.
He leaned closer, gazing into her eyes. “What’s more,” he whispered, “I liked it. Very much. And I dream of doing it again.”
She blinked rapidly and he wasn’t sure she was breathing. He straightened and grew more serious. “ButI am not a monster. I would never force my attentions upon a woman, especially not a woman in my employ. I would always wonder if she allowed me liberties because she felt she had no choice, and I would despise that, both for the woman and for myself.” He turned away because she was still gazing at him in amazement, and the temptation to kiss her parted lips was threatening to make a mockery of his noble speech. “You are entirely safe from any unwanted attentions.”
After a long moment of silence, he couldn’t stop himself glancing back. She looked flustered, her eyes wide and unfocused. “I— Thank you. I understand. Yes. A few days, you say? We can manage. Lucy.” She nodded. “Yes, Lucy. I—” She broke off. “You liked it very much?”
He gave one slow nod. She was thinking about that kiss. As was he. Nick had thought of little else, until Fitchley rudely interjected himself. For that alone, Nick had no regret about what he meant to do to the baron.
“Oh,” she breathed. “Again? You would?” She raised one hand, delicately touching her lower lip as if in recollection.
“Yes,” he said in a low voice. “Fair warning.”
A rosy blush came into her cheeks, and she swallowed, glancing sideways at his mouth. Then she put back her shoulders and raised her chin. “When do you want to leave?”
CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
Emilia had no time to think about the conversation, for which she was extremely grateful.
Charlotte and Lucy were already alarmed, after her encounter with Fitchley. Lucy, it turned out, had protested when James seized her hand and towed her across the street, but Charlotte had understood something was very wrong. Emilia found them in the schoolroom, heads together and whispering furiously.
“Millie!” Lucy bolted across the room into her arms. “Oh, Millie, you’re alive!”
Emilia was surprised into a laugh at that. “Of course I am! I see James did exactly as he ought, for here you are, safe and sound.”
Lucy looked at her anxiously. “Who was that man? Was he a cock bawd?”
Emilia started. “What?”
Blushing, Charlotte hissed, “Lucy!”
Lucy bit her lip but didn’t retreat. “Did he do terrible things to you?”
“He was not a friend, but he did nothing to me,” said Emilia firmly. She gave Charlotte a wary look; how on earth did Charlotte know that vulgar term? And why had she taught it to Lucy? The girl ducked her head and looked away. “Never mind that now. We’re to pack for a journey. Mr. Dashwood has decided we’re leaving London.”
Someone tapped at the door. Henry came in, one small trunk on his shoulder and another in his hand. “Here you are, miss.” He winked at Lucy. “Mrs. Watson’s lamenting that she just baked a tray of lavender cakes and now you’re leaving. She wonders if you might like to take a basket with you.”
Lucy’s face brightened. “Oh, Millie, may we?”
Emilia smiled at Henry. “A marvelous idea! Thank you, Henry, please ask her to do that.” She went to the wardrobe and opened it. “Come help me, girls, or we’ll end up forgetting something important.”
