Steadying her head in his hands, he tried once more, managing naught but a couple of fleeting pecks. The carriage bucked over the cobblestones as though it had no springs at all, never mind it was the latest—and costliest—design.
Attempting another kiss, they jounced in and out of a pothole with a bone-rattling jolt that nearly cracked their teeth. “I don’t think this will work,” she said with a sigh.
Then, rounding a corner, she bounced right to the floor and stayed there, convulsed in laughter.
“It’s not going to work.” She steadied herself with her hands on his knees. Her skirts were twisted around her legs, and her tangled curls bounced on her shoulders in the same uneven rhythm as the carriage. “How long to your house?”
This late, traffic was negligible. With the exception of aristocratic carousers, Londoners kept inside at night. “Five more minutes.”
“Five minutes.” She sighed as though it were hours and hours.
He pulled her back up to sit beside him on the bench. “You know,” he said with a self-deprecating chuckle, “my brother brought a maiden to the town house last year and all he did was kiss her. Yet I was terribly righteous and told him he’d have to marry her.”
She sat upright, steadying herself with an arm across the seatback. “You mean Colin and Amy?”
“Yes.” He grunted when a bounce sent her careening into him. “Last month they had a lovely baby daughter.”
“That’s very nice. But you don’t have to marry me, Jason. In fact, I wouldn’t countenance it.” Her voice dropped until he could hardly hear it over the wheels rattling on the cobblestones. “My home is in Scotland.”
With a hand on her chin, he brought her gaze to his. “Caithren?”
“Hmm?” In the soft glow from the sidelight, her eyes looked hazy blue.
“Have you enjoyed yourself this night?”
She nodded seriously. “More than I ever thought possible.”
“Even though you’re in England?”
“Even though.” She kissed his cheek, apparently not trusting her aim enough to target his lips. “Maybe especially so. Because you’re here. In England.” Her words were almost shy, surprising him. His Cait was never shy.
“Will you remember that tomorrow? No matter what happens?”
Her gaze was steadfast—and perhaps a bit curious. “I’ll remember it forever.”
“Good. I’m counting on it.”
He was praying for it as the carriage drew to a halt. Because when the sun rose in the morning, what he had to tell her would surely ruin everything.
The house was dark and still when they entered. He eased the door shut and felt for the candle that was kept on the nearby table. Attempting to light it, he fumbled when her hands streaked under his surcoat and around him. He cursed softly, and Caithren giggled.
“Hush,” he whispered. “We cannot wake Kendra. I’m half-surprised she didn’t wait up to hear all about our evening.”
With a soft hiss, the flame came to life, and Cait settled her chin on his chest, her eyes a deep blue in the dim yellow light. Beneath the coat, her arms tightened around him. “Must we go to sleep so soon?”
Sleep was the farthest thing from his mind. Shedding his surcoat, he pulled her over to one of the brocade chairs and onto his lap. Their lips sought each other’s and seemed to meld, and she twisted round to face him, her hands curled around his neck, pressing closer to him than seemed possible. All was heat and excitement and humming—every nerve in his body seemed to be humming with awareness.
Would this be their last kiss ever? The possibility hit him like a punch in the stomach. He groaned aloud, but he didn’t break the kiss. Instead he deepened it, savoring her fierce response. There was his bold Caithren. His precious Caithren. He stroked her hair, her face, and up and down her sides. He tasted her, and breathed her in, and committed every sensation to memory.
A long time later, knowing he couldn’t allow this to go any farther, he reluctantly drew away.
Her eyes blazed, full of impatience. “Where is your room?” she asked.
“You’ll have your own room here,” he said. “We have plenty of rooms. And I presume I can trust you now not to escape me.”
He watched the heat in her gaze subside. “Of course,” she said with a sigh.
Not quite ready to let her go, he nuzzled her ear. Then words spilled out in a whisper. “I love you, Cait.”
She seemed to stop breathing. “I—”
“Hush.” He didn’t want to hear it, not tonight. Not when she wouldn’t be able to say it again on the morrow. “I love you, and I want you to remember that. No matter what happens tomorrow.”
“Why do you keep bringing up tomorrow?” she asked softly. “What is happening tomorrow? Besides the wedding and finding Adam? And hopefully apprehending Gothard?”
He pulled back and held her gaze with his. “You will wake to the morning sun. I will bring you breakfast in bed.” He tried to smile into her lovely hazel eyes, flickering in the candlelight. “And then—then I have something to tell you. And I want your promise that you’ll remember I love you.”
“That is something,” she whispered, “that I will never, ever forget.”
IN THE GRAY light of dawn, Jason jerked awake.
He lay there for a few minutes, not knowing why he’d awakened, but knowing he wouldn’t get back to sleep. He imagined Caithren sleeping in the room where he’d left her, imagined her looking happy and peaceful. But she would waken soon enough, and then it would be over…because then he would tell her the truth. And any feelings she had for him would die.
He’d never felt more wretched in his life. Could things get any worse?
Beneath his window, he heard the bellman call the hour of six, followed by muffled conversation. His skin prickled with a sudden, foreboding awareness. He slid from the bed and over to the window, parting the drapes just enough to see between.
Through the morning fog, he could barely make out the bellman,
