Page 106 of The Keeper and I

Whoever he was, he pulled her into him for a long, adoring kiss that banished all her questions from her mind. When they parted, she was breathless.

“You didn’t think I’d forgotten, did you?” he asked.

She shook her head, her eyes still fluttering. “Of course not. It’s…I wasn’t able to tell my family last night, about us.”

He nodded, understanding in his eyes. “I thought as much with your brother announcing his engagement and all.”

“I didn’t want to cause a stir when they were all so happy. I’m sorry.”

He tilted her chin to look at him. “It’s alright. We don’t have to tell them right away. We’ve got time.”

“I’m not so sure.” She chewed her bottom lip. “I’m certain my father is in favor of a match between me and Seymour. He’s come to call three times this week. My mother is ecstatic, saying he’s sure to propose any day.”

His brow furrowed. “Has he said as much?”

“I don’t know. I was missing for part of the ball,” she replied with a sly grin.

When he didn’t return it, she grew worried. He tapped his chin with his forefinger, silent for so long, she feared he wouldn’t answer at all.

“Did you dance with him?” he asked.

“Only twice. No more than proper. I assure you, the man is as much of a bully on the dance floor as he is off it.”

“We should tell them soon. The longer we wait, the more likely it is that Lord Seymour will ask for your hand.”

“I hope not. He frightens me so.”

“I’d never let him hurt you.”

“I know. But I was thinking…what if we didn’t have to say anything? We could sneak away in the night, leave a note explaining ourselves, and go to Scotland together like we planned, and—”

“Caroline, no.” He stopped her. “I’ll not steal away with you in the night like a thief.”

“But we could—”

“Are you having doubts?”

“No,” she assured him, putting her hand on his forearm. “I love you. I’d marry you this instant if I could. I worry that now there’s an eligible match available, my family might not take it as well. They may not allow us to leave.”

He placed his hand over hers, curling his fingers around her palm and lifting them to his lips, pressing a feather light kiss across her knuckles. It gave her butterflies from her stomach to the ends of her hair.

“I’ll give you anything, Caroline,” he said like a promise.

She stepped closer and stood on her toes, getting close enough that their noses touched. “You have given me everything already. Simply by being mine.”

She kissed him properly—deep, passionate, and slow. Every time she kissed him, she wondered how the things they did could be called a sin when he brought her to heaven with every touch. Whatever life existed beyond this one, she would carry the memory of his kisses with her.

They parted for breath, and she held his gaze.

“I should go,” she said ruefully. “Mama will be looking for me soon.”

“Will I see you tonight?”

“Of course, here, as usual.”

“Good. I’ve got a new painting to show you that I think you’ll love.”

He pressed his lips to her forehead and departed. She waited two minutes before she would leave in the opposite direction.

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