realize she wasn’t afraid. The truth was, she’d never felt so exhilarated in her life.
As he descended the ladder, Nicholas was mentally reeling. And not from their near miss with the house’s occupant. He’d had such close calls before. This was his second time in the tunnel, so he navigated it a bit easier going out than he had coming in. When he caught up with Poppy, he grabbed her hand.
“We’re all right,” he whispered, and gathered her close.
She clung to his neck like a drowning sailor, the papers in her bodice a small, stiff wall between them.
“You’re very brave,” he murmured in her ear.
She was still clinging, but she was also nuzzling—his ear, to be specific. “I
“Mm-hmm.”
He pulled her hard against him, and they kissed in the pitch-black darkness—kissed as if they were both starving and this kiss were their last meal.
Finally, reluctantly, he pulled back.
“Why do you make me feel so wanton, Your Grace?” she whispered. “We’re underground. We’re in someone else’s
“You what?”
“I crave your kisses,” she said simply.
Somehow that humble admission touched him like nothing she’d ever said before. She was so brave. And true to her feelings.
He pulled her to him for one more kiss. “I want you, too. Actually, I’m desperate for you. You’re the most maddening woman
“Really?” She placed little kisses along his jawline.
“Really,” he said, caressing her waist. “But—”
“But back to business.” She pulled away, her tone firm and Service-like. “I’m ready for my orders.”
He led her to the portion of the tunnel leading upward. Rain was falling hard now, and droplets of cold water dripped down on their heads.
“This Mr. Harlow can see out his back windows,” he said. “We can’t leave until we know he’s not looking,”
“How can we do that?” she asked.
“There’s a peephole at the top. We’re lucky, really, for the rain. It’s gotten darker and he’ll probably light a lantern. We’ll be able to see him more readily, and hopefully, he’ll retreat to his office behind the blanket.”
“I hope so.” Her whisper was thin.
“We’ll stand together on the ladder because we have to leave together. And we obviously have to leave fast. You’ll go first. Head to the barrels and pick up your milkmaid’s pail before you go.”
He heard her stifle something that sounded rather like a snort. “We’ve got chickens to get around,” she said. “They’re all huddled in the shed.”
“You’re supposed to be terrified.”
“I am. But it’s still funny.”
He chuckled, too. “You’re right. It is. But meanwhile, I need you to be our lookout. Leave as soon as the coast is clear. I need to slide that false wall back into place, and I’ve got to do it quickly.”
It was a good ten minutes before Poppy moved. But when she did, Nicholas was right behind her. She did a marvelous job of tiptoeing around the chickens without disturbing them. Then she clambered over the side of the coop and ran to the barrels.
The rain was falling in sheets, disguising any noise they might make. Nicholas took three seconds to replace the wall and sprang over the coop for the barrels, where he picked up the logs and the canvas roll.
He caught up with his partner in crime, who was already walking rapidly back up the alley to the north. When they reached the corner, they slowed their pace. She was breathing hard, she had rivulets of water running down her cheeks and nose, and her hair was a god-awful mess.
But he thought she’d never looked so beautiful.
CHAPTER 32
When Poppy arrived with Nicholas back at the hackney on Pearl Street, the driver barely spared her a glance. Nicholas had assured her he’d paid the man well not to ask questions. On trembling legs, she clambered in first with her little bucket, Nicholas not far behind with his logs and canvas roll.
Only when the vehicle lurched forward did she let herself fall apart … just a little. She fell against Nicholas’s equally wet shoulder and began to laugh.
“I can’t believe—” She giggled. “I mean, I really can’t believe—” She sat up ramrod straight and stared at him. “Did we just
Nicholas, even rougher-looking now than he was earlier, arched a brow. “Yes, we did, and the papers bulging out of your bodice are proof.”
Dear God. She’d forgotten about the papers in all the excitement. She pulled them out—luckily, they were mostly dry—and tossed them on the opposite seat.
“I don’t know if I can look at them quite yet. I need to recover.”
“I do, too,” he said. “And not just from breaking into that house. From
There was a beat of silence, and she let out a breathy sigh. “You’re appallingly good-looking in your workman’s disguise. Especially when wet.”
“Am I?”
“Yes.” She splayed her hands against his chest and stared into his eyes.
He tugged on one of her bodice laces and stopped, the lace taut in his hand.
She looked up at him.
And stopped breathing.
Something in his eyes melted her heart. He leaned forward … she met him. And they kissed. In the middle of it, Poppy realized it was the best kiss she’d ever had. Because that kiss told her everything her heart already knew.
She was in love.
With Nicholas.
A few seconds after the most riveting kiss he’d ever had, Nicholas admitted to himself that doing Service work with Poppy was much more exciting—and yes, more risky—than working alone.
But the risk seemed worth it.
She was becoming rather an addiction, and he’d have to be careful. After they married—a future he refused to consider wouldn’t come to pass—he was to deposit her at Seaward Hall. But he was already asking himself how he could go back to work in London knowing she was sleeping in
Because he was sure she would. Life at Seaward Hall would never be dull with her in residence.
“I’m ready,” she said, her lips cherry red from their kissing. She moved back to the other seat. “Tell me what surprised you at that house. Something did.”
“I’ll say.” Nicholas was still trying to take it in. “The house belongs to Mr. Groop. I immediately recognized his handwriting on the files. And on his desk, I saw a scarf he often wears to his office.”
Poppy held her hand to her mouth. “Heavens, what was it like, knowing you’d burgled your own employer’s
