Page 39 of From Duke Till Dawn
She planned on sitting at the opposite end of the large table, but a footman stepped forward and pulled out a chair for her, right next to Alex. Cassandra tried to calm her racing heartbeat enough to eat.Push away fear and sadness. Think of something else.
By God, he was something fine to look upon. His nose might be considered a little large, but it suited the proportions of his face, and those full lips...
She shook herself. Now wasn’t the time to think of kissing him. But he’d kissed her with such hunger, such desire. She’d be long cold in her grave before she forgot the way his lips felt against hers.
Or the heat they’d created together in bed. Or the way he’d once looked at her, as if she was something rare and wondrous.
He’d never look at her that way again.
She sighed.
Alex glanced at her, then waved over a footman. “Tea for Mrs.—I mean—Miss Blake.”
She nodded her gratitude as the servant filled a cup and brought her a sugar bowl. Such a heap of small luxuries, almost hidden, like diamonds sewn on the inside of one’s glove.
He eyed her plate, seemingly unhappy that she’d taken so little, but said nothing about it, thank God.
“I trust you slept well,” he said as she ate.
“Well enough,” she answered. “And yourself?” She chose her words with care, trying to be scrupulously polite.
His mouth curled into a wry smile. “Hardly ever.”
She put a forkful of eggs into her mouth and had to keep from sighing. They were pillowy and light. Perfect. Next, she took a placid sip of tea. But she couldn’t stop the exhale of pleasure curling up from the back of her throat at the taste. It was floral and rich, the best tea she’d ever had.
Opening her eyes, she caught him staring at her with naked hunger in his gaze. But the heat of their past connection disappeared into the murkiness of their current circumstance, and he looked away.
“I... Thank you again for helping yesterday,” she said in the silence. “They would’ve drawn and quartered me otherwise.”
“You’ll pay me back,” he answered.
She had no answer to that. “Last night went as well as I could’ve hoped,” she went on after taking a bite of bacon. “Considering that half of London thinks I’m a liar and a thief.”
“Part of that is true,” he said pointedly.
She felt her lips twist. “I’ve never before been caught in a lie, so my record is spotless.”
“Until yesterday,” he noted.
“True.”
They were quiet for a time, with her eating her luxurious but minimal breakfast, and him reading the newspaper.
It felt almost domestic. Except she sat on the blade of a sword, waiting to be cut in two.
“What are your plans for finding Hamish?” he asked, breaking the silence. “You said you’ll want me for protection—I assume that means we’ll be traveling to less savory venues in search of him.”
“It’s Hughes, not Hamish.” She gave a bitter little laugh. “He’s as Scottish as Ceylon tea.”
“I don’t know the world of the underground like you do,” Alex said. “We should go to the constabulary. Or hire a Bow Street Runner.”
“Most likely, I’d wind up in irons,” she said. She went over her options. She was going to have to do something she truly didn’t want to. “The place we need to go is also where I’m least welcome.”
“The House of Lords?”
She decided it was best not to dignify that with a response. “It’s a secret spot in London,” she explained, “hidden and unknown to the rest of the city—a haunt just for people like me and Martin.”
“Criminals.”
