Page 30 of Unmasking the Silver Heiress
"Won't you come sit?" she finally said with a little smile, kneeling down onto the pillow closest to the screen. Her robe and nightgown spilled out around her legs in shades of ink and turquoise. She reached for the wine and poured a modest amount in both cups, her hand steady despite her previous indulgence.
"I know it looks silly, but I have been reading so many tales of the Orient where they described eating this way, and I desperately wanted to try. I wouldn't have been able to justify it once we were properly sorted with furniture here."
Nate took a bracing breath, unsure about the wisdom of standing in his current condition, but he quickly moved to kneel opposite her while she was distracted with the beverages. He cleared his throat, chiding himself to get his impulses under control, and gave her what he hoped was an assuring smile. "It is charming, Nell. I am so pleased that you approve of the items I chose," he said softly. "If I may say so, this particular ensemble suits you very well."
She blushed, lifting her wine to her lips to cover a smile. "Thank you," she said after a moment. "It was a very productive outing. In addition to collecting some of my new clothes, I have made the acquaintance of one of the Dempierres."
"Have you?" he marveled, this bit of information at least pulling his mind in a safer direction. "How did you manage that?"
"It was pure happenstance," she told him. "She was in Madame Bisset's shop when I arrived and she ... she stayed throughout my fitting. I believe she found me amusing."
"You are amusing," he assured her, carving a bite of his steak.
"Not amusing in the way of someone who tells jests," she said slowly, tilting her head in thought. "More like one is amused by an uncoordinated puppy or a man who slips and falls on the street. I was a curiosity, I believe."
Nathaniel frowned. He knew exactly what she meant. He had often found her amusing in much the same way, though he saw his own amusement as affectionate and this stranger's as hostile. He felt suddenly stifled and pushed himself to his feet, making to remove his jacket.
She watched him, her expression more curious than anything else, and nibbled at her dinner as he shook off his cuffs, cravat, and waistcoat, drawing a deep and satisfying breath of air, unrestricted. "I've a mind to change into my pyjamas as well," he said to her, giving her a smile that he had been told was friendly. "You look so very comfortable there in your own."
"I am, yes," she said brightly. "I have never owned anything half so fine. I could live in this one ensemble forever and never want again, and yet, I've brought home several more! It will make me presentable for dinner with your family or to send my card along to the Dempierre household."
"Is that what you plan to do?" he asked, returning to his cushion with significantly more freedom of movement. "Send a card?"
"Well, Gigi—that is, the Dempierre girl—she scheduled another fitting with Madame Bisset in a week's time. I thought perhaps I would happen into the shop on that same day and hope for another chance encounter. If that fails, then yes, I think sending a card is our best option, now that I am known to one of them."
He nodded, considering it. "I think it's simple and straightforward," he said. "If she finds you amusing, as you say, she may be eager to interact with you further."
"Once the house is ready, we should host a gathering here and invite them all," Nell continued, popping a small piece of potato into her mouth. As she reached for her wine glass to take another sip, Nathaniel was treated to a tantalizing glance of cleavage. "Something intimate that will garner conversation. Depending on when this masquerade is held, we may have precious little time to ingratiate ourselves with this family."
"Hm? Oh, yes, naturally," he said, perhaps taking a bit too deep a drink of his own wine and forcing himself to focus on his plate.
She went quiet for a moment, perhaps simply out of enjoyment of the dinner. He did not know, for he was trying his damndest to keep his head down. The crackle of the fire and the scraping of their forks on the plates were the only sound for a stretch of time, then the clatter of cherry pits into a dish as Nell sampled the fruit from the bowl.
"Why did you kiss me?" she asked suddenly, her voice piercing the silence like birdsong.
"What a question!" he replied immediately, unable to hide the curl of his lips. "Must a man have a reason to kiss his own wife?"
She leaned back on her hands, studying him, illuminated by the glow of the lanterns that lined the perimeter of the room. "You hadn't done it before."
"No," he allowed. "But I should have."
She pursed her lips, considering this, but could not make sense of it based on the way she shook her head. "But what made you kiss me then, in that particular moment?"
"I couldn't say for sure," he confessed, allowing his eyes to roam over her form. Did she know what she was doing? Did she know how she looked, reclining like that? "It seemed like the natural thing to do and I desired it. Do you wish for me to refrain from doing so in the future?"
"What!" she exclaimed, pushing herself up to a rigid posture with her eyes wide. "Of course not! I simply haven’t the faintest idea which behavior to replicate if I’m to inspire you to do it again!"
This admission hung heavy in the air for a beat, with Nathaniel uncertain he had heard her correctly.
"Oh," she groaned, burying her face in her hands. "I'm sorry. The wine loosened my tongue, and I did not think before speaking."
"Perhaps we should both think a little less and speak our minds more freely," he suggested, reaching across the table to pull one of her hands from her face and into his own. "Do you want me to kiss you again?"
She peeked up at him through her one revealed eye and gave an almost imperceptible nod.
"Good," he whispered. "Come here."
She swallowed, blinking a few times as though she had to assure herself she had heard correctly. Perhaps without her spectacles, she had come to be distrusting of all of her senses.
