Looking suitably chastened, Louise dropped her chin. “I know.”
“Very well. Clean this mess and dry off that dog. Miss Gordon?”
His use of her name brought her head up. “Yes?”
“My office, if you please.” He spun on his heel and left.
Any thoughts of laughing faded. How haughty and arrogant he sounded. It made her bristle a bit, though on second thought, perhaps they should have washed the dog in the garden.
Smiles had fallen asleep near the bed. He let out a little doggy snore, and both Henrietta and Louise looked at each other and smiled.
“Go,” Louise said. “Dom is miffed and better for you to be reprimanded now. I shall take care of my shaggy mongrel.”
Henrietta nodded. She made her way to Dom’s office. Louise had accepted the fact that she was going to leave too easily. It bothered her, but she could not pinpoint why.
The office door was open. Dominic stood near the window, peering out at the busy streets, hands clasped behind his back, shoulders straight and proud.
A lump rose in Henrietta’s throat.
“When are you leaving?” he asked, his tone subdued, his voice low and husky.
She thought of her uncle’s letter wedged beneath her pillows. “I was not able to read Uncle William’s letter yet.”
“What do you think it says?” He turned then, moving away from the window, putting himself into a shadowed part of the room.
It was fanciful of her, but for a moment, a quiver of doom darted within her. She could not see his face.
Wetting her lips, she put her palms up. “Hopefully that he wants me back. That he will provide funds for me to join him.”
“You saw how upset Louise became.”
“Yes.” She wiped her palms on her skirts, but it didn’t help as they had not dried yet from Smiles’s bath. She felt soggy, suddenly. Unkempt and unsure. It was a foreign, vain feeling that she did not appreciate. “You are concerned she will revert when I leave.”
“How little you understand of human emotion, Miss Gordon.”
“And what exactly do you mean by that?”
“What I said.”
Now her temper was rising, drowning any sense of self as she understood that he was insulting her. Not her intelligence, but her humanity. “You think me cold?”
“No.” He left the shadows so quickly she did not process what he was on about until he stood in front of her, his gaze narrowed so tightly on her face that a shiver passed through her.
“Then what, pray tell, prompts you to so rudely accuse me of—”
“Of being logical and kind and utterly blind?”
How had he gotten so close? Her breath suspended and all she could see was the stone emerald of his eyes, and all she could smell was the cologne that invaded her thoughts at the most inopportune times. He dragged his gaze down her face. Her lips tingled. Her muscles clenched and a slow, viscous heat spread through her.
“I can see you very clearly,” she murmured. How had she never noticed the fullness of his lips before. Awareness skittered up her spine.
She had never before kissed a man. Never before even been tempted to. Was this what it felt like then, to want to press your lips against another’s, to feel the rasp of his cheek against your own?
Her uncle’s letter sat upstairs, unopened, containing secrets she longed to read. This might be her only chance to try out a kiss. Her only chance to feel what others spoke about in hushed voices, in the pages of those tiny novels about dim-witted heroines and dashing heroes.
In the Song of Solomon.
Heat cascaded through her. She knew what she wanted. And Henrietta Gordon did not let anything keep her from her goals. Let alone societal strictures.
She closed the gap between them, and put her lips upon his.
Her mind wanted to process the feelings, to categorize each sensation and label it for future reference, but when his arms went around her, when he pulled her tight against him, her mind stopped working.
Her arms slid up around his neck and any thoughts fled as her body and emotions took over. A sweet ache flowered in her heart.
She stopped the kiss, pulling away, feeling the coldness of her parting but unable to articulate why. His cravat hung crookedly and his face had lost that stony look that so alarmed her.
He was the first to speak.
“Just like a woman. Using tried and true methods to quiet me.”
She couldn’t respond. Her heart was beating entirely too fast. Surely that could not be normal. And her stomach...flip-flopping. Her fingers trembling. Is this what kissing did to someone? Or was it the fact that after she left to join her uncle, she might never see Dominic again?
It was a terrifying thought.
Dominic touched her cheek, his finger a gentle, warm pressure. “Don’t look so upset. Please.”
The plea in his voice hooked her, drawing her gaze to his eyes, which were intent and serious. His hand dropped, and she let out a shuddering sigh.
“What I meant earlier,” he said, “is that Louise will miss you, if you leave.”
And will you miss me? The words almost left her mouth, but she reined them in. She squared her shoulders. She willed the butterflies and nerves to still. They did not listen.
“I will miss her, too.”
His eyes darkened. “It occurred to me, today, that perhaps we could work out a mutually beneficial arrangement. One that even Louise would appreciate.”
Her thoughts halted. What was he saying? Surely he was not going to propose matrimony. She bit her lip, hard. The sting kept her grounded. “And what would that be?”
“You stay as governess until she no longer needs you. I will give you leave to attend various medical symposiums and to treat my tenants.”
She blinked. Her neck hurt from the strain of remaining utterly still. She must be practical about this. He had not said
