Page 14 of The Lord Meets His Lady
She put both hands on the cool, solid pine of the table, fine wisps of hair falling before her eyes. Lord Bowles scraped his chair nearer to the table and sat down without a word. Chin to his chest, he dragged his shirtsleeve down. They both took care to let this heady moment pass. Planting her bottom in the chair, she fumbled inside the crockery for the paring knife and a turnip.
Another tattoo flitted across her mind: a plain black dagger fashioned to look like a cross inside a triangular shield. She shook her head. Reinhard Wolf and Avo Thade were far away. They’d never find her.
She sliced the turnip, eyeing Lord Bowles from under her lashes. “Soldiers and sailors have tattoos. But you’d be the first real gentleman of my acquaintance with one.”
“I got it in Saint George’s Town when I was a soldier,” he said, clearing his throat. “Before I came home from the Seven Years’ War. My family doesn’t know I have it.”
“How could they not?”
He reached for his coat. “They never see me in a state of undress.”
How different her experience from his. Where she came from, half-dressed bodies were the standard. Most humble residents of Tavistock Street shared close confines. Men and women changed their garb behind large linens draped across lines indoors and counted that as privacy. Many didn’t care if they were seen half-dressed or not. More secluded rooms were to be had in other establishments, but she’d never lived that way.
Across the table, his lordship slipped on the rumpled velvet coat, his agile frame graceful. Her gaze flickered over his leanly muscled body. What else did he hide beneath his clothes?
“I’d guess you love horses.”
“Fast horses and fast women. Usually.”
The grin he flashed was infectious, sending a forbidden fluttery feeling across her chest. Nursing the connection between them wasn’t a good idea, but the lightness refused to be squashed.
“Then I shall have a care with my pace when I’m around you, milord.”
They recovered from that private turn, their conversation easing into safe territory. Lord Bowles sipped his coffee and regaled her with tales of childhood and horses. Lots of horses. By the way he spoke, she guessed the four-legged creatures owned him more than he owned them. He smiled often, revealing a dimple on his right cheek. She whittled away on one vegetable after another, aware his short visit to the kitchen had stretched long. His astonishing request for friendship lit up a hidden corner inside her.
Friendship. With him.
Shecouldask for his help. The urge sparked inside her like a tiny beacon. This was the beginning of a better life. She’d already taken bold steps to get here.
Warmth and light spread…until the letter crinkled in her pocket.
