Stephanie frowned. ‘Mr Hook has agreed to give his lecture on newts. Apparently Mr Hook has decided that it would be best if they stay in the neighbourhood while Sir Christopher recuperates. That young man has a sound head on his shoulders. After you became separated from Livvy, he made certain that she was escorted back to me. I just pray he finds some confidence from somewhere or otherwise poor Livvy will be dreadfully disappointed.’
Hattie hid her smile behind her hand. It appeared that Livvy and Mr Hook were enjoying a romance, despite Stephanie’s interference and she found that she wasn’t inclined to stop it. It was no one’s business and she had to trust that Livvy would be sensible. ‘Is that so?’
‘He is far too diffident. I doubt he has any idea about women.’
Hattie moved the conversation on to much safer topics. When she next saw Kit, she’d tackle him about the gloves. But whatever he had intended, the gloves now belonged to Livvy. Hattie quite looked forward to quizzing him about it.
The sickroom was immaculate. No sign beyond the tidily folded laundry that Kit had ever slept here. Hattie regarded it with distaste. She had come up immediately after Stephanie left, hoping for a little clue or perhaps a forgotten article which would enable her to visit him.
Hattie caught sight of her stricken reflection in the little mirror over the chest of drawers.
‘What did you expect, my girl? You knew he had suffered from a concussion. He probably doesn’t even remember.’
The irony did not escape her. How could she go to him and ask? What did one say—when you were suffering from a concussion, you promised to make love to me? Will you do so now? The mere thought made her feel sick to her stomach.
A great wave of tiredness came over her and she stumbled to her bedroom. Everything would be clearer after a sleep.
She put her hand to her head as a wave of dizziness passed through her. Whatever happened, she was not going to humiliate herself again. She was going to retreat and lie down.
There, propped up on the middle of her bed, was a single red rose and a note. Hattie’s tiredness melted away.
With trembling fingers, Hattie undid the sealing wax and opened to the note.
Summer house in your garden. Four p.m. Tomorrow. If you are still willing. Kit.
Hattie sank down on the soft bed. He’d left her a note where only she would find it.
She pressed the note to her lips, trying to think. He’d given her an option and had preserved her reputation in case she changed her mind.
Hattie tightened her grip on the paper. Retreating was the last thing she wanted to do.
She’d be naïve if she thought she was anything but a distraction. She knew the boundaries going in. This was not about love or finer feelings. She’d had all those words from Charles and had believed them. This was about proving her independence.
She could stop living the life that Charles had chosen for her now. She had a choice and she intended to take it.
She gulped twice. What did one wear to a seduction?
The garden was bathed in warm golden sun the next afternoon. Hattie had sent Mrs Hampstead to Highfield on the pretext of helping Livvy get ready for the dinner party the Dents were giving. She claimed tiredness and the wish to have some peace after the turmoil of the last few days. Mrs Hampstead had taken Moth with her so that Hattie could sleep properly and undisturbed.
A life of half-truths had begun, Hattie thought with a wry smile. Perhaps it said something about her that they sprang so easily to her lips. She had been certain that Mrs Hampstead guessed, but she accepted Hattie’s rather garbled explanation.
At first, Hattie considered that no one was there, but then she saw movement in the shadows.
‘Kit?’ she called softly, wondering precisely how one went about this new life of sin.
When she had gone to the summer house with Charles, he had led the way, insisting that she could see the fireworks better from there. She had been far too young and in love with love to question him. It had seemed a dream that someone so handsome and at ease with society, not to mention brave, should be interested in her. She had never thought about it until far too late. Then, looking back with the benefit of hindsight, she had seen the signs—the unexplained absences, the moodiness, the perfunctory love-making. It was not going to happen again. This time, she wasn’t going to give her heart.
He appeared in the doorway. He was simply dressed and bareheaded. The bruising on his face was starting to come out and gave him a decidedly roguish appearance.
‘You made your decision.’
‘It was painfully easy.’ She held out her hands. ‘I’m not certain about what happens next.’
He crossed the short distance between them. His fingers touched her jaw. ‘We go slowly. It happens at the pace you want it to happen.’
‘I sent Mrs Hampstead to Highfield. We have about two hours before she returns, I imagine.’
He cocked his head to one side. ‘And that will be long enough?’
‘More than ample. I want to do everything in my power to prevent Mrs Hampstead from guessing.’
‘Mrs Hampstead is no fool.’ His face sobered. ‘You will need her as an ally rather than as an enemy. On another note, while we are together in public, we must not take chances.’
She refused to think about his words—while we are together. He had played this sort of game before, but she was a novice. The future was going to happen whether she wanted it to or not. She had stopped believing in for ever a long time ago.
‘I know.’ She moved closer to him. Her hand touched the broad cloth of his coat. ‘But …’ she stood on her tiptoes and brushed his lips ‘… I understand the rules, perfectly.’
He put his hands on her upper arms and held her from him. He searched her face. ‘Why are you doing this? Is it because you want me or because you want to get back at some man who has been dead for seven years?’
‘It is because I want you. What I might have felt for Charles vanished years ago. I am tired of living in fear. I want my life back.’
He lowered his mouth and drank from her lips. The kiss teased her senses and increased in urgency. Hattie twined her arms about his neck and pulled him closer. Her body arched towards his.
It was as if she had been encased in ice and his breath was setting her free. She mimicked his actions and slipped her tongue into his mouth, revelling in her new-found power.
His hands roamed down her body, arms, shoulders, sides. The light touch sent a series of tremors coursing through her body. He stilled when his hand reached her bottom.
‘What are you wearing under that dress?’ he rasped.
‘Nothing. I came dressed for seduction.’
He gave a husky laugh and pulled her closer, leaving her in no doubt of his approval. ‘Once you make up your mind, you are very determined.’
‘I
