Page 27 of Kiss Me Lady One More Time
Oh, yes. He did understand, and he wondered if she would be sending them off together if she knew what they’d just done.Damnation. He steeled himself and suggested the last thing he wished to do. “Perhaps we should delay any thought of the investigation.”
“No.” Miss Munroe put a hand on his arm. “You go home,” she told her friend. “Reassure your husband. Listen to the doctor. We’ll see you there, later.”
Lady Tensford shot her a grateful look. The earl climbed up and settled in next to his wife.
“I believe it is a good day to allow them some time alone together,” Miss Munroe said as she stepped back. Smiling, she waved.
Sterne blinked, before nodding and knocking on the side of the carriage to signal it the coachman. He watched it ease away into traffic, then turned to her, offering his arm. He gave her a nod as she took it.
“Let’s see to it, then.”
Chapter 7
“We won’t want to walk all the way to Great Russell Street, but we can head north and watch for a hack,” Sterne told her as they set out. “We’ll have better luck once we reach St. Andrew, no doubt.”
Nodding, Penelope tried to breathe slowly and rein her senses in. This was her first time walking in London, since she’d been a child. It was crowded, busy and loud, especially as they emerged onto Broad Street. It felt degrees more intimate and immediate than riding in a carriage.
But by far the most raucous rattle on the cage of her senses was . . . him. She felt as if she’d locked arms with an obelisk of heat and strength and safety. Excitement and pleasure sentfrissonsspeeding up and down her spine.
Fortunately, she wasn’t expected to talk. He was busy watching their surroundings and keeping an eye peeled for a hack. She could concentrate on trying to think past the storm of sensations that had been assaulting her since he’d pressed his lips to hers.
Good heavens. They’d kissed. Again.
And it had been a divine onslaught—No. She would wallow in and relive every moment of it later. Now she had to think.
Yes. The answer to all the questions. Did she still want him? Was he worth the toil and trouble of a chase? It was all still a resoundingyes. That kiss . . . The fizzing longing still bubbling in her veins . . . The sight of the same want reflected in his face . . . It was progress, was it not? He was still here. He had not withdrawn from her.
But she felt as if Hope was right and it was going to be a chase. All the signs showed that he felt as much for her as she did for him—but something held him back.
Very well. She would commit to the idea of burrowing it out, of changing his mind. She’d heard the stories of Hope and Tensford’s courtship. She would do as her friend had done and she would show him how incredible they could be for each other.
“Here we are,” he said suddenly. Letting go of her arm, he stepped to the street and hailed a passing hack. A few minutes later, they were settled in the dilapidated carriage and he was looking relieved and happy to be once again in pursuit of his goal.
First things first, then. He would not be ready to think of any sort of future until the mystery was solved and the fossil was found. She would begin here, then. She would take Hope’s advice and discover what it was that he wanted. And what caused him to struggle. She would prove herself invaluable to the search—and to all the days that would come after.
Straightening her shoulders, she regarded him with a serious mien.
He frowned. “Lady Tensford—will she be all right? Do you have any idea of it being serious?”
Her heart softened. “I believe she will be fine. Whatever it was, the illness came on quite suddenly and left her nearly as quickly. It just left her tired.”
“I hope you are right.”
“I should tell you, though, that we were not successful this morning.” She filled him in on their morning, then raised an expectant brow.
“We made slightly more progress.” He returned the favor and recounted their morning’s work. “Whiddon’s gone to check in at a few more hotels, looking for Stillwater.”
“I will be happy to meet him. I’ve heard so much of him from Tensford and Keswick. But we should discuss Mr. Simon. You met him at Greystone, yes?”
“Yes, I did.” He sounded hesitant. “It was the morning after I was struck down, however, and my recollection is a bit fuzzy.”
“Perfectly understandable,” she nodded. “I spent a decent amount of time with him, as he had quite an astounding number of questions about how we found the great fish.”
“The great fish?” he asked with a smile.
“It’s how I think of it,” she admitted. “Tensford’s great fish.”
“I like it. Now I’ll probably think of it so, as well.”
