Page 46 of The Duke's Mysterious Lover
Those lips…those lips were a woman’s.
Nay, they’re Kit’s.
Well, aye, they were still a woman’s. But they wereKit’sfirst.
The logic was circling something important, but Thorne couldn’t quite grasp it. Couldn’t quite make himself—still reeling from the casual discovery—process through to the solution.
“I meant…” he managed, his hands still on what were undeniably tits, but then trailed off, uncertain what he’d meant.
I meant, how long have ye been lying to me?
But was dressing like a man a lie? She’d never saidI’m a boy, he’d just assumed, based on how she dressed.
“Is this who yeare?” he finally managed, forcing himself to drop his hands. “Like Evie, are ye…?”
She was still smiling.She. He was having a hard time wrapping his head around it.
“I thought going into service would be the best way to spy on my father, honestly,” Kit confessed, “and my mother refused to agree to the plan if I went as myself. I look too much like her, you see. He’d be able to recognize me if I dressed as myself.”
“So ye became a man. A footman,” Thorne finished hoarsely, his gaze still darting over her incredulously, looking for more secrets. She hadn’t done this because she felt uncomfortable in her own skin, like Evie; the deception had just been a means to an end.
She shrugged, and the movement was soKitthat he was hit with a gut-punch of realization.
This was the same person.
This was the same person he’d been falling in love with.
Today, when Fawkes and Bull made him see what he’d really wanted, Thorne had to accept the fact that while he’d always assumed he’d fall in love with a woman—a woman he could make his wife—he instead was falling for alad.
And now he wasn’t.I mean, ye are falling for her. She’s just no’ a man.
This wasKit. This was the person he laughed with, the person who’d cared for him. The person who held him, the person whosawhim. The person who had seen him at his most vulnerable. The person whom he loved.
Damnation.
“I think…” Thorne rasped, then shook his head. “I think we need to leave.Now.”
He grabbed her wrist and tugged, Kit willingly trotting along beside him. In fact, by the time they reached the front door to the dance hall, somehow Kit’s fingers had become entwined with his, and they held each other as if they’d never let go.
“Take yer time getting home,” Thorne growled to hiscoachman as they climbed inside the town coach, and heard Kit’s muffled giggle.
Christ, shewasgiggling. That wasn’t a chuckle, wasn’t a masculine snort. But it was a sound he’d heard dozens of times in the last weeks, one of the things he’d liked so much about this new valet of his.
Kit had been his footman.
Then his valet.
Then his friend.
And now…
“Ye’re a woman.” The accusation was part amazed, part angry, as Thorne settled across from her.
It was dark in the carriage, but he couldhearKit shrug, the way he—shedid when she was being practical. “I am. I’m sorry if this isn’t what you wanted to hear. I’m sorry I’m not a lad, but I thought it important to tell you before—”
“Fook,” he growled out, reaching blindly across the seat to her. His hand snagged hers. “I amthrilled. Delighted,Kit.”
A pause, and he could tell he’d confused her. “So when you thought I was a boy—”
