Page 30 of A Scandalous Bargain
“I see. He was the start of it all?” She traced her finger over his wrist. Was she even aware? Thomas was. His entire body sang with want. “You should be the Handsome Duke.”
He felt absurdly pleased. “You think I’m handsome?”
“Very.” The word came out on a rasp. She abruptly pulled her hand away. He nearly snatched it back. “I should probably go.” She started to rise, and Thomas wanted to stop her. He yearned to cup her neck and lean over her, to press his lips to hers and forget every disappointment he’d ever known.
When she was on her feet, she looked down at him. “I really did just want to come and make sure you were all right—with the inquiry. If you think nothing will happen, I won’t worry.”
“I don’t think anything will happen. It’s been several days, and I haven’t heard another word about it.”
“I’m still going to ask Harry next time I see him. I think we’re having dinner at his parents’ house tomorrow night.”
“I’d rather you didn’t. I’d just prefer if the entire matter could…fade away.” He felt a pang of guilt for wanting that. He ought to mourn Thea, but in some ways, he already had. Years ago, when he’d realized his marriage was never going to be what he’d hoped, that she wasn’t the woman he thought. Now he was just eager to put the entire mess behind him, for that’s what their union had been—a mess.
Beatrix looked a bit disappointed by his request. Even so, she agreed. “If you change your mind, I hope you’ll tell me. As your friend, I want to help.”
Thomas stood. “You’ve already done so. We’re friends, then?”
“I think so. Don’t you?”
“I hope so.” In truth, he could imagine her being much more.
She went to the desk and drew on her gloves. Next, she set her hat over her curls, obstructing them from his view.
“Your hair is lovely tonight,” he said.
She touched her face. “Thank you. You should have seen it earlier.”
“I did, actually.” He hadn’t meant to tell her, but found he couldn’t help himself. “You looked beautiful.”
Her mouth opened as she stared at him. “How…?”
“I was spying on you outside Almack’s. Like how you spy on your father.” He cracked a smile.
“How naughty of you.”
“Then you must be too.”
“I suppose so, and not just for spying on my father.” She grinned. “Coming here in the middle of the night qualifies as naughty.”
“It does indeed. The only thing naughtier would be if you thought you could walk home alone. I’m coming with you.”
“That isn’t necessary.”
“I disagree, and tonight you won’t talk me out of it. Let me fetch my coat.”
She looked down at his feet. “You might need footwear.”
He wasn’t wearing boots. Or a cravat. “Promise you won’t leave while I get dressed?”
“No. You’d better hurry.”
He dashed into his chamber and shoved his feet into his boots, then he grabbed a cravat and threw it around his neck. Plucking up the coat he’d taken off earlier, he hurried back into the sitting room. She had her hand on the door to the balcony.
“You want me to climb down the trellis?”
She arched a taunting, pale brow at him. “Are you saying you can’t?”
He narrowed his eyes at her and went to open the door. “I’ll wager I can do it faster. After you, Miss Whitford.”
