Page 56 of Dalliances & Devotion (The Truitts 2)

“Oh.” She ducked her head a little at that. “I’m really sorry now.”

“For what?” He drew out the words because a note in her tone prickled the hair on the back of his neck again. David clutched the handle tighter. He needed to listen, not puff up in righteous indignation, no matter how tempting.

“Asking like that was unfair and accusatory.” She paused to glance upward. White puffs spread over the blue sky, muting the sun. David waited but Amalia said nothing else. He increased their pace as a warm wind rippled through the leaves, rustling her petticoats and even his half-stuck jacket. He should really remove it.

“He did it. Not you,” David finally managed to answer.

They’d reached the forest, a dense grove of ash and birch and pine against a climbing rock formation—somewhere between a full mountainside and a large hill. Almost reminiscent of...no, he wouldn’t remember that day, that part of Pennsylvania, much farther south.

“I was unfair too. Not in that way, but in others. And careless and reckless and impetuous. Not only with my future, but with your feelings.” She stopped at the edge of the tree line, next to the roots of a gnarled oak.

“More than reckless. I said s

ome things, things designed to hurt you that New Year’s. I implied that you weren’t good enough, not what I wanted, but that was a lie—a complete lie.” Amalia gazed up at him, her eyes dark in the shade. “I’m so sorry, David.”

His heart swelled. Those words, that confession, that apology, unknotted something deep within him. When she locked eyes with him, as if she was seeing him, all of him, once again. In that moment, he’d have given her anything, despite the past hurt. With those words, all could be unmuddled, somehow, that they could find a way forward even with their limitations. In that moment, they could really start anew.

“Because I did want you.” She swallowed. “Very much and you said things that made me question whether you felt the same way. And I looked at all of my siblings and wondered, why would you? I’m not beautiful and graceful like Roseanna. I’m not smart like Thad and my mother. I’m not charming like my father and you certainly know that I’m not kind like Simon was and I—”

Whatever Amalia was about to ramble was lost to the crack of lightning flashing across the sky.

David muttered a million curses in Yiddish and English under his breath as he shifted his mind back to what it did best. “All right.” He drew in a deep breath. “We are going to run towards the rocks. There has to be a small cave there.”

Amalia nodded as the wind whipped her hair. Thunder rumbled and the gray of the sky deepened. A sprinkle of rain landed on her forehead. In minutes they’d be in a deluge.

“While you run, grab any dry branches you can and protect them with your body—left hand only.” He squeezed her shoulder. “If you can’t don’t worry about it. No matter what though, stick with me.”

“I can do that.” Amalia’s voice was bolder and calmer than the paleness in her cheeks would suggest possible. “I promise.”

A droplet hit his nose. “All right,” he repeated. “Let’s go.”

Chapter Nineteen

Amalia rubbed her hands over the fire and glanced at David. Fashion dictated a trim and styling, but somehow the unkempt locks and shadow beard suited him. Either that, or all her senses were skewed when it came to David Zisskind. A longing stirred beneath her ribs. Probably, some combination of the two.

David threw another log on the blaze and scooted next to her. They huddled next to the wall of the narrow, fortunately animal-free cave. The space was almost too shallow to lie or stand in, and the two, along with the fire, made it a tight squeeze. Not an unpleasant position.

She picked at her muddy skirts, still wet despite the blaze. “I should get out of these.”

Without a word David rocked to his knees and settled behind her, working her buttons. He really would be the best lady’s maid. The heavy satin slid off her shoulders and he grazed her bare skin with his knuckles setting off a set of chills which had nothing to do with the cool evening air.

“Corset too?” he asked.

“Please.” She nodded. “All the way off.”

David’s hands froze. “Amalia, I already told you...”

“And I was about to tell you that you were wrong.” She tossed her hair so it hit him in the face. Hopefully, there were still traces of perfume in it, not just soot. Despite the boring color and stubborn texture, her tresses were thick enough that she didn’t need enhancements to make them seem fuller. “If it makes you more comfortable, you can throw your jacket over my shoulders.”

The rumpled garment lay in a heap next to the fire. Amalia swiveled around. David frowned. “I’m not going to win, am I?”

“It depends on how you define winning.” She licked her lips. “Come on, David. We’re in a cave, lost in the woods. Let’s pretend all the good reasons you have for not finishing what we started the other night don’t exist. Please?”

She held her breath and waited. Time stopped for a moment. Neither moved.

Her heart thudded against her ribs. He was going to reject her, wasn’t he? She opened her mouth, searching for a line to deflect the flirtation as a joke when mischief sparked in his eye and a slow smile spread on his lips. “All right, but no coat. I think I’d like to watch you in the firelight, in only, what? Stockings and knickers? Or are they drawers? Or bloomers?”

And that was all the inspiration she needed. Hands only shaking a little, she whipped off her unlaced corset and tossed it away. With her good hand, Amalia plucked her dress and petticoats from around her feet before adding them to the pile. “I’m going to call them ‘knickers’ today. I think that sounds naughtier.”

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