Page 28 of The Lost Lord
“I want you to…” Miriam licked her lips. Richard’s arousal hardened. Mrs. Kent’s embarrassment flared.
“I’ll come,” he conceded, too quickly, as guilt tempered his joy at Miriam’s boldness. No matter how it had come about, Richard liked Miriam. Had they met under other circumstances he would have courted her anyway, though he was humbled enough to know that she would not have liked his previous incarnation nearly as much. “Tomorrow afternoon.”
“Yes. Please. It might be the last opportunity.” Miriam glanced sidelong at Mrs. Kent. “Before we return to Cliffside. Ordinarily I don’t spend much time in the city, and after the…incident a few days ago, my father insists we leave town.”
“I see.”
If he wanted her, Richard had to act. Not because Lizzie had blackmailed him. Because Miriam wanted him badly enough to risk her father’s rebuke and her sterling reputation enough to come here to a warehouse to findhim.
The thought thrilled him as nothing ever had before.
Chapter 13
What had she done, going in search of a man who’d withdrawn his courtship to issue an invitation to court her?
Miriam licked her lips and glanced at the wharf where men ambled about in varying states of dishabille. Embarrassment hotter than the sun beating down on her neck flooded through her. Her muscles tensed. Her shoulders her neck her abdomen. Richard and his naked glory brought to mind the god Helios. She didn’t know where to look. Desire was a living thing inside her making her damp beneath her layers of petticoats. She breathed. The breeze off the Hudson made it easy. Sea air had always agreed with her. Despite this, Mrs. Kent waved the fan directly at her face. Miriam glared over her shoulder. The lady glared right back.
Mrs. Kent had not approved of this mission. Yet she was here, stalwart, at Miriam’s side as always. Inviting a man to visit was simply not done. Her father had been suspiciously quiet after her asthma attack. It was too much to hope that her force of nature of a father had been chastened by her sadness. Hurt had welled up inside her like an endless fountain of pain, and Miriam had made sure her keepers were aware of her unending sadness. Especially her father. She moped at mealtimes. When Livingston invited her for their afternoon promenade, Miriam had refused. When asked why, she sighed and said, “I wouldn’t want the dusty road to set off an attack.”
Livingston had cast her a narrow glare and gone off on his own, muttering beneath his breath.
“Perhaps the man cares enough about you to stay away. I doubt he wants to harm you further,” Mrs. Kent had ventured gingerly.
“I wasn’t harmed,” Miriam insisted. “I made a full recovery.”
“This time,” Mrs. Kent replied darkly. “One day, you mightn’t be so lucky.”
Fair enough, yet Miriam had decided that living a bit longer was not worth the sacrifice of things she wanted. Love. Children, though they came at great risk. An opportunity to see the world. The portion of it available to her might be a smaller slice than for most people, yet Miriam had made up her mind that she was not going to let it stop her.
The one thing her father couldn’t tolerate was an excess of feminine emotion. Miriam may have been of age, but she was not above giving him a dose of the female feelings he’d sought to avoid by sending her to girls’ school. Livingston used pistols to get what he wanted. They had proven remarkably ineffective against her onslaught of exaggerated moodiness ever since the scene outside her bedroom window. Miriam was not above using any weapon at her disposal to seize the thread of her opportunity. She had decided that if she wanted an adventure, she was going to have to fight for it.
Miriam experienced a searing flash of satisfaction as she gazed upon the magnificent form of her beloved. Heat pickled over her skin, and not only from the warmth of the day. Richard’s assured, mocking smile made her fingers shake. Miriam tried to swallow and found her throat dry.
Richard clasped her hand to draw her close. His earthy, salty scent filled her. Marion gasped with the need to inhale deeper, longer, more.
“When do you depart?” he asked warily.
“Thursday,” Miriam managed to say as her head spun. Livingston’s decision to pack up and head to Cliffside had been the impetus for her visit. Miriam had sensed her window of opportunity to experiencemoreclosing.
“Then, I shall call tomorrow, Miri.” He stalked closer. Miriam ought to be offended by the sweat of his body, but instead, his pungently masculine scent made her thighs weak and her belly spasm. All those glistening muscles could be hers to touch if…
Richard advanced upon her. He raised her face and bent over her, his dark eyes alight with a dark flame of hunger. He kissed her, hard and possessive. Miriam tasted salt and man as his stubble roughened her skin. Miriam leaned up to meet him, opening. Around them, men jeered boorishly.
“Miriam Walsh, that isenough,” seethed Mrs. Kent. Miriam grinned against Richard’s mouth. His lips curved to match hers. Reluctantly they separated. First a breath of space between them, then a wobbly step backward. Mrs. Kent caught her elbow.
“Yes, yes. I’m coming.” Her gaze never left Richard’s face. His hair curled above his ears, glowing in the harsh light.
“I shall speak with Howard about taking the afternoon off,” he promised in a low rumble.
Miriam blew him a kiss, her heart pounding. Richard still wanted her in a way that made her knees weak and her heart race. She was worthy of a man’s affections, and this time, Miriam was determined not to lose him.
* * *
“You saw nothing,”declared Howard. He surveyed the workers below from his office perch above the storehouse floor with a pensive expression. From here he could spot light fingers or sloppy work. Papers and ink pots stacked in messy piles covered every available surface. In the back was a makeshift bed, where Howard slept most nights.
“I won’t be here tomorrow afternoon,” Richard stated. He never asked Howard to leave. Only when he could work. “I need the freedom to visit Miriam.”
Howard fisted his hands in his hair, standing it on end. “I need you here,” his friend responded slowly. “You saw nothing in the crate I asked you to move. There is another shipment of equally invisible, delicate goods arriving tomorrow. We are packed to the rafters. I need your help moving this nonexistent box uptown.”
