Daniel nodded to indicate his approval. Patting the outside of his pocket, reassuring himself the two folded squares were neatly tucked inside, he inquired, “Where is she?”
He was promptly ushered toward the drawing room. “In here, my lord, in here. Miss Thea?” Samuels called upon reaching the doorway. “Lord Tremayne here to see you.” With a polite nod at both, he said, “Refreshments can be served any time you wish. Ring if you have need of us, otherwise we’ll be below. Enjoy your evening.”
Then the butler was gone, acting as though he didn’t know the sole purpose of Daniel’s visit was convenient fornication.
The moment she saw him, Thea scrambled from the small writing desk located across the room. Twin spots of fresh color stained her cheeks but he was comforted to see that her smile came naturally and the trembling that had been so very apparent last night was absent.
“My lord.” She gave him a deep curtsy, then spoiled the effect by rushing toward him with every appearance of eagerness. Eagerness she checked just three steps away, as though unsure of her reception.
Thinking how easily her inherent splendor overwhelmed the ratty state of her dress—he really needed to buy her a new wardrobe—Daniel covered the distance in one long stride and took hold of her hand. “Thea.” He lifted her arm and bowed low before her, straightening and tugging her closer. He’d rehearsed in the carriage so the words came—almost—easily. “Would ask how you spent your day but think I know.”
He couldn’t help the grin nor the glance toward her writing desk.
Her feet shuffled in place. He still maintained possession of her hand and she looked at where they were joined instead of his eyes. “Sleeping in, I confess. Then making the acquaintances of the wonderful Mr. and Mrs. Samuels. Exploring my new home.” All of that came out in a rush. Only afterward did she meet his gaze, and her breath wafted out on a sigh. “After that I enjoyed the most unexpected afternoon.”
Her fingers fidgeted in his and he reluctantly released them, reaching behind his back to clasp his palms together—it was either that or thread his hands through the luxuriant spill of dark hair that was piled up again, but not nearly as intricately as the night before. “Oh?”
“Reading.” Her eyes flashed at him. Wondering if he would take up the bawdy banter in person?
With every appearance of boredom, Daniel spun on his foot and walked sedately toward a garish red settee, frowning at the velvet upholstery—at the entire room—once he realized how very vulgar it was, echoing the gold and crimson tones, and the illicit décor, from the entryway.
Upon reaching the settee he planned to banish as soon as he ordered her new furnishings, he sank into a corner, crossed one ankle over the opposite knee, and very casually commented, “Reading? How…droll.”
She snickered and he knew she saw right through his act. “Not today. Today I had the most thumping time turning page after page. However”—she started heading toward him, slowly—“just when I was reaching the exceptionally good parts, I’m saddened to say, they disappeared.”
“Vanished?” He made a sound of dismay. And decided it was time to share the contents of his pocket. Before he made a cake of himself by talking too much.
“Completely! How shall I ever know how the story unfolds if—if—” She stumbled to a halt, both in words and in walking, when he held out the folded squares. “For me?”
Deuced amazing. One would have thought he’d given her diamonds instead of mere dispatches.
“For you,” he concurred, making sure she saw what he’d written on the outside of each before relinquishing them into her control.
Thea looked at the notes, one marked For Now; the other labeled For Tomorrow.
Two more letters to cherish! How could she be so fortunate?
Not attempting to disguise the smile lifting her cheeks, she tucked the one designated for tomorrow in the pocket of her dress and unfolded the other. Standing just shy of the settee where Lord Tremayne sprawled, she began to read, not realizing until she was partway through the first paragraph, that she was doing so out loud.
“Dear Thea, It occurs to me I was remiss. Unaccountably callous, in fact, and for that I beg your pardon.
“Last eve you so kindly saw to my needs while I—” Here she paused to glance at him over the sheet. Looking solemn but unembarrassed, his gaze unwavering on her face, he nodded for her to continue. She did, unable to help the lowering of her voice as though they shared a secret. “While I selfishly ignored your own.”
Her own needs? The page shook—following the tremor of her arm—and Thea resolutely stiffened her betraying limb and her resolve. Her resolve not to give in to any missish vapors. Of a certainty she did have needs! How wonderful of this man to recognize that. To acknowledge them. Something her late husband had never, never been considerate enough to do.
Granted, she’d not thought to contemplate her needs so soon, given how she wasn’t yet attired to receive Lord Tremayne in the boudoir. But she had reveled in the first sit-down bath with hot water she’d been treated to in ages, thanks to the efficient and indulging Mrs. Samuels. The sweet woman had even washed and pressed her dress. Though really—to greet him wearing the same ugly dress? It was not what Thea had planned. But she was clean, her hair simply but neatly arranged, and Lord Tremayne had looked as pleased as she’d felt when Samuels had shown him in.
Taking solace in that, she firmed her voice and read on, again admiring his fine penmanship (which was easier than fully processing what she was saying). “May I rectify that now perhaps? I need to, you see, for I did not mean to present myself as such a selfish lover. It was most insensitive of me,
