Page 62 of One Perfect Dance
Did he want to wed her or simply to bed her? Did men court their mistresses? He knew her to be a widow, and it was true that widows took lovers.
That was another thing. At some point, she was going to have to tell him about her own lack of experience. She trusted him, but not another soul alive today knew the truth of her marriage. Not even Cordelia.
On the other hand, he called her his darling. He kissed as if he was starving and she the only food that could save his life. He called her hislove.
He wanted to see her breasts! Even Annie, her maid, had only ever caught glimpses. The thought of displaying herself to him in such a way should outrage her, scandalize her. Not make her hot and tingling all over, curious to see his reaction.
She changed into a morning gown—shockingly informal for dinner with a guest. “I shall probably go to bed early after dinner,” she told her maid. “Do my hair in a plait, please, and pin it around my head. Leave my washing water by the fire. Then take the rest of the evening off.”
Annie’s eyes were alight with curiosity, and she had probably drawn her own conclusions about what might happen inside Elijah’s bed chamber. Regina reminded herself that she owed no one an explanation, that she was a widow with the freedom to make her own choices as long as she was discreet, that Elijah was too injured for them to go very far with their explorations of one another.
Even so, a lifetime of following the rules for a lady left her feeling nervous and vulnerable as she entered his room, his birthday present under her arm.
*
Ginny had leftto change for dinner. Ash asked a footman to help him wash and freshen up. A clean shirt. A slightly more formal cravat. Rex had brought over a bag of his clothes, so the banyan and the waistcoat under it were now his own—the banyan an ornate silk coat from China that he’d bought from a merchant in India.
He took particular care with brushing his teeth and started to shave, but had to let the footman complete the task, because the position his injury forced him into wasn’t conducive to a steady hand.
There.A smooth chin and a fresh mouth for the kisses that he hoped would follow dinner. If what he needed to say first didn’t send Ginny off to her own room and leave him bereft.
He was going to ask Ginny to marry him. He didn’t want to kiss her again without a promise between them. No. That was not true. He wanted to kiss her more than he wanted to breathe. But he wanted far more.
Ash wasn’t going to risk kissing her again without first finding out if she was only amusing herself. His heart was on the line. If she refused his name and his ring, but wanted his body, would he agree? He didn’t have the answer. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that, because he didn’t think he was strong enough to walk away, and he knew he wasn’t strong enough to survive loving her if she did not love him back.
“Faint heart never won fair lady,” he told himself, but the ancient saying gave him no comfort. Bold hearts often failed to win fair ladies, too.
Regina arrived at the same time as the servants with their dinner. She put the box she carried to one side and made light conversation until the servants exited the room. She had changed for dinner, into a gown with long sleeves that buttoned right up to the neck—a charming gown in a pale shade of blue that complemented her eyes. Very demure. Very chaste. Was she sending him a message? Had she already made up her mind to stop what was between them?
Even as Ash reminded himself not to jump to conclusions, Regina gave him a counterargument, leaping up to lock the door so they would not be disturbed.
His face must have shown the question he was thinking, for she blushed and said, “Let us eat first.”
First before what? He hoped they were both on the same path!
They ate and talked. In silent cooperation, neither introduced the topic of their relationship or the attacks or the investigation. Instead, Ginny asked about Ash’s banyan, which took them to a conversation about China, its exports, and its policy of keeping foreigners away from its lands, except in authorized port towns.
That, in turn, took them into a discussion of Britain’s trading empire, which led to Ash expressing his opinion about the Company.
“I do not like bullies,” he concluded, “whether they are individuals or organizations. Around the world, our land is regarded as a bully, and the policies of the East India Company are a large part of the reason why.”
“England is full of bullies,” Ginny argued. “Of course, we export them overseas. Look at the way that owners of businesses treat their workers, householders treat their servants, men treat the women dependent on them, and the aristocracy treat everyone else.”
She put up a hand when he opened his mouth to object. “Not all of them, I agree. But we do not, as a nation, treat those we consider lesser than ourselves with any degree of consideration and respect.”
He conceded her point but didn’t think it was exclusively an English trait. “Name me a nation that does,” Ash replied.
“I can name a few individuals who have power but use it for the benefit of others,” Ginny said. “Have you eaten enough, Elijah? I will put the trays out onto the table in the hall, if so.”
He nodded, and she began stacking the empty dishes and plates onto one of the trays. “Won’t those be heavy?” he asked, frustrated that he was unable to carry them for her.
She shook her head. “Not at all. I shall make several trips.” She blushed and mumbled, “This way, we shall not be disturbed.”
“Why, Ginny,” he joked, hoping to ease the tension. “Do you mean to be naughty? I hope so.”
She cast him an alarmed glance and her flush deepened. “Excuse me.” She unlocked the door and made several trips to clear the remains of their dinner. After locking the door again, she remained just inside it, her eyes wary.
“I embarrassed you,” Ash acknowledged. “That was not well done of me. If you wish, I am content just to be with you. We don’t have to…” He trailed off, not wanting to offend her again.
