Page 40 of Meet A Rogue At Midnight
“Here. Let me.” Jonas knelt before her and nudged her hem a discreet fraction. He was going to untie her shoes.
It was silly, watching him intently, his long, tanned fingers hooking the back of her shoe as he set the fripperies one at a time on the bench beside her. Wintry air nipped her. Toes curling, she started to hide them under her hem.
Big, warm hands wrapped around her silk-clad foot. Her arch tingled. A callused finger stroked a line from her ankle under her heel along her arch to the balls of her feet. The snagging sounds seduced her better than pretty words. She swallowed hard…last night’s passion. With fumbling hands, she raised her hood as if the cloth gave the privacy she craved with Jonas. He tucked her foot into one boot and took his time pulling up the leather.
His thumbs slid slowly up her calf.
“Jonas,” she whispered, glancing around the yard. At least they were alone.
Wide shoulders rose and fell with his measured breathing. Head bent and hat on, she couldn’t see his face, but he knew the impropriety of a man’s hands lingering under a woman’s hem. This was agony. To feel his warmth. To smell him and the spicy-scented soap he’d used to shave. Fisting in her cloak, she dare not touch him. If she did, they’d kiss. Full. Hot. Unguarded.
Jonas sought the second boot. His fingers dug into the leather. Would Mr. Haggerty with his grand plans to dress her be this affected? Her mouth clamped painfully. There was much to adore about Jonas and his silent strength, but even the best of men had to bare their hearts. Would Jonas count her worthy of the risk?
He tucked the second boot past her ankle, going faster. Officious hands left off with the leather half up her calf. “I expect to finish the chair in the next few days.” His voice was taut.
“That will be helpful.”
Jonas brushed her hem down and pushed off the ground. Hands clamped behind his back, he eyed the tower. His neck turned beet red, the color climbing up his cheeks. “About my conversation with the Captain…”
“Yes?” She rose from the bench, jamming her heel into the second boot.
The fit was awkward but they began their stroll to the tower, passing the kitchen garden with its rows of upturned soil. Chickens scratched through the snow, their beaks pecking the ground. She pulled the keys from her pocket and kept a respectable arm’s-length from Jonas.
“You know I came to settle things with the Captain,” he intoned. “It’s why I came back to Plumtree.”
Sunlight hurt her eyes, its blinding brightness bouncing off melting snow. She tugged her hood forward to shade her eyes. “Yes. To make your peace with him about the fire and your hasty departure.”
“And for being a neglectful grandson.” His baritone voice rumbled comfortingly at her side. “You, however, have been a fine example of family duty.”
They took a side path to the tower, but the manor’s back edifice was in full view. So, too, was the drawing room’s glass doors where Mr. Haggerty kept watch. Waving, she attempted a smile but her lips stuck to her gums. Mr. Haggerty scowled, giving her a curt nod.
“We do what we must,” she said, facing the tower again.
“Which brings me to you.”
“Me?”
“As I said, you are a shining example of family honor and responsibility.”
“Don’t you mean a liar? This past year I’ve managed to deceive my father’s publisher and his antiquarian friends. And though I’ve not said marriage vows, I feel like I’ve cuckolded the man standing in my mother’s drawing room. I could allow myself those first sins because they help my family. But the last? It was all for me.”
Muddy snow sucked her boots. Misery was a stone in the pit of her stomach. Had she mucked up her future for an unwise tumble? The corset banded her ribs in a painful grip and the skin between her legs was sore. Jonas would soon put Plumtree behind him. No, Jonas would soon put her behind him. It had to be the reason for his stiff gait and lack of eye contact. He was ready to run off the same as he did ten years ago.
But, this time he’d not come back.
They walked into the tower’s shadow, the sun’s loss chilling her. She fussed with her skirts, trying to save her hems. It was daft since she wished the gown gone forever.
“For me, too,” he said.
Her head snapped up. “What?”
“Last night was…” Words trailing, Jonas squinted at nothing in particular.
She leaned in. “Yes?”
The toes of her boots pushed deeper in the earth. Her heart expanded as if it climbed into her throat. She couldn’t swallow. She didn’t breathe. She teetered, waiting, hoping.
“I want to do what’s right. I’ll follow your excellent example and do my best for the Captain.” Hands firmly behind his back and feet spread wide, Jonas spewed words. “I think we should, that is, considering what happened last night, we ought to come to an arrangement ourselves. You are a fine woman. My income cannot rival what you’ve enjoyed. I established a decent annuity from my work with the earl…that and re-establishing Braithwaite Furniture should count as worthy for your consideration. We’ll muddle through.”
