Page 43 of The Duke's Mysterious Lover
“Madam,” she managed, in a slower part of the song, “your adam’s apple is showing.”
Instead of being surprised, Evie merely tossed “her” head back and laughed. “It is indeed, darling. I wondered how long it would take you to notice. Andyourballocks”—Kit’s partner pulled her flush against the taller body—“are missing.”
Indeed, beneath the layers of petticoat Evie must be wearing, Kit could feel a bulge. And likewise, she knew Evie could feel nothing of hers.
Flushing again, Kit moved to put space between them.
“You’re a marvelous dancer, darling,” Evie cooed, “even if you only know the woman’s part.”
Kit cleared her throat, finding it easier to focus her gaze across the room than on her partner, who’d seen through her easier than anyone else. “Yes, well, can I be blamed?”
“Oh, don’t be cross!” Evie was leading her toward the back wall. “I only noticed because I am very, very good at looking for people like us.”
People like us.
But while Kit wore men’s clothing because she appreciated the freedom of trousers and pockets and not having to be considered a second-class citizen because of her uterus, this wasn’twho she was.
It wasn’t that she felt more herself when wearing men’s clothes, as she imaged Evie felt about her gown. It was just…simpler. A means to an end.
Unintentionally, her gaze slammed into Thorne’s, who was finishing his dance with Molly.
She wanted to tell him.
She wanted him to know therealher.
Evie hummed and swung her to a stop, though Kit’s head still spun. “You look as if you’ve come to a realization, darling.”
Kit opened her mouth, her gaze focused on the person in front of her once more. The person who’d been born one gender, but dressed as the other. And she closed her mouth again.
There was nothing to say, really, was there?
Smiling softly, Evie’s hand rose to cup Kit’s cheek. “Smooth as a baby’s bottom. Either Thorne has very specific tastes, or he’s completely clueless.”
“Clueless,” Kit managed to choke out, which caused Evie to burst into peals of very feminine laughter.
When Thorne jogged over, breathing heavily, perspiration at his brow, and smiling, Evie turned to him.
“Thorne, darling, your friend is delightful. Do bringhimaround more often!”
Evie brushed a kiss across Thorne’s cheek, and he returned the embrace, his laughing, questioning gaze still on Kit.
Then Evie was gone and Thorne was reaching for her just as the band slowed the tempo to a more sedate waltz. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to step into Thorne’s arms and rest her hand above his shoulder and place her hand in his.
But he didn’t sweep her away. Instead, he went through the steps of the waltz, holding her close, each moving no more than a few feet in either direction.
“Do you know…Evie?” she asked softly, a stupid question, considering the embrace.
Thorne’s little huff of laughter ruffled the little hairs around her ears. “In daylight, Evie is one of my solicitor’s men. Here, though, she can be herself.”
Be herself.
It seemed an important lesson, if only Kit could grasp it.
Tucked in the shadows at the back of the dance hall, leaving the energetic dancing to those on the dance floor, this position felt…intimate. Private.
In fact, Thorne’s movements slowed further until he was merely swaying in place, holding her.
Kit’s heart pounded, wondering what this meant tohim. Was he as breathless in anticipation? Hesitantly, she stepped closer, wondering if she’d be bold enough to press her pelvis to his, to feel if he was as aroused as she was.
