Hearing her admission touched him deeper than any release—pending or otherwise—and he knew tonight was not the time. “Your husband was a…” Bastard! A doltish groutnoll. Not to cherish and charm such a pleasing, passionate creature. Words he would have loved to utter. But he settled for, “A chub.”
She gave a tiny shake of her head but didn’t try to subdue the blossoming smile. “Nay, he was decent enough. Just uninspired in the bedroom.” Her lashes veiled her eyes when she added, “In everything, truth be told.”
“A clump,” he told her with conviction. Then he dropped his forehead to rest on hers. “Thea.” Daniel licked his lips, tasted her all over again. His softening erection surged against her honeyed center, so moist and receptive—thanks to his efforts and her wondrous response. Had a man ever been blessed with such an exquisite mistress?
He forced his hips back and she instinctively followed, wringing a deep groan from his throat, one that originated in the vicinity of his blazing ballocks. “Thea! I must go. I…” Don’t want to.
Damn, how he didn’t want to. But it was for the best—if he stayed, they’d talk more. Either now or later, and he could only hide his defect for so long.
With Louise, it had been easy. She prittled and prattled on about anything and everything, not really caring, and certainly not curious what his views were—on anything—or how he spent his time. With Thea, soft, sexually un-awakened Thea—though he’d certainly awakened her tonight, he couldn’t help but acknowledge with a surge of pure male pride that had his cock stiffening within its sticky confines—with her, he had an urge to discuss. To ask for details on how she occupied her day. To seek her advice on matters troubling him.
To beg her to massage his shoulders and neck—much as she was doing now—but with his shirt and coat off, with him not feeling the pressure of the upcoming evening in the company of two people he cared about and had thought happily settled.
“Gad, how I d-d—” Don’t want to leave. He masked the slip by kissing her nose, then by whispering his new favorite word. “Thea.”
Had he ever loved forming syllables as much?
She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his jaw. “’Tis all right. I know you have commitments outside of our…um…ah…”
“Friendship?” he hazarded, rewarded immeasurably when she nodded beneath him, when she stroked his shoulder down to his biceps as though she wanted more than anything else for him to linger all through the night.
“Aye, friendship,” she confirmed without a hint of hesitation. “Passionate friendship.”
He laughed and kissed her cheek, then hauled off her. As it was, he’d need to return home for new breeches before venturing out again, and if he didn’t leave Thea’s presence now—all tempting and warm and flushed from release—he’d surely miss dinner at Ellie’s…and that wouldn’t do.
He already had enough guilt heaped upon him by his wretched conscience, based on how things had gone with Tom Everson the previous night, to invite more regret.
Marshaling his strength, Daniel gained his feet and turned to her. She’d flung her dress down to hide the treat he’d just dined on and her color was as high as ever. But she held his gaze. “Thank you, my lord, for a most, um…erotically enjoyable evening.”
“’Twas my…pleasure.” He gave her his most formal bow, even clicking his heels together to the accompaniment of her chuckle. Straightening, he vowed, “Until…tomorrow.”
“You’ll be back tomorrow?” Every blasted minute he had to endure in his release-ruined drawers was erased right then by the solace of her sweet smile. “Wonderful.”
“In…deed. I shall count the hours.”
“As will I.”
2
Expectations Mount, Only to Be Dealt a Crushing Blow
7:21 a.m.
Though the looming clouds promised another drizzly, grey day, Thea awoke feeling as though rays of sunshine frolicked across her bed, as though a flock of songbirds chorused within her breast.
7:37 a.m.
“Has there ever been a lovelier morning?” she greeted Mrs. Samuels as she descended the stairs.
“The follies of youth must be upon ye, to welcome such a morn with open arms.”
Undeterred, she patted the pocket that held the two folded notes Lord Tremayne had given her the night before. “Folly or a blind eye,” Thea excused, pausing when she reached the bottom of the staircase and noticed the laden tray the woman held. “I confess, my attention ’tis on a letter I must compose. My, you’ve been busy, to cook so much this early.”
Her new housekeeper’s smile contained a wealth of understanding. “I hoped the scents of a hearty meal might lure you awake. And must compose?” The woman chuckled. “Like as not you cannot wait to begin. Aye, I know to whom you’re writing with such haste. Think ye I missed that rascally Buttons sitting in my kitchen twice over yesterday? Here now, I was bringing up your breakfast—”
“For me?” Why, there were no less than five full plates: fried ham, shirred eggs, tarts (strawberry this time, judging by the heavenly scent), kippers, high stacks of bread and more. “I thought all that was for Mr. Samuels and yourself.”
“Ye’ll please both me and my Sam by making a noble attempt to clear each and every plate.” While Thea sputtered, the housekeeper surveyed her with grandmotherly affection. “Child, a brisk wind would keel you over. Breakfast first and then I’ll see you settled at your desk with a pot of hot tea.”
“You’re too kind.” When Mrs. Samuels would have headed toward the formal dining room, Thea stopped her. “Nay. I’d prefer to eat in the kitchen. With you both.”
“Kind?” Mrs. Samuels clucked, spinning around and heading back down the stairs. “You’re easy to care for, I daresay. Our last mistress, God rest her rotten soul, was a crotchety crone. Always ready to harp a complaint but nary anything else. You’re twice the woman she was even if she did have the
