Page 32 of The Scoundrel of Drury Lane
The earth beneath her and the distant stars above were gone, and the brightness of the very sun vanished from her eyes. She and Kit existed somewhere within themselves, and that single kiss continued for endlessly. Until that moment, Suzannah had not believed in souls having a mate, or that two hearts could become as one. But as she felt Kit’s mouth against hers, his body shuddering with the force of emotions that she too felt, she knew soulmates had to be real. They were so alike, their hearts filled with the same flame. All she could think was love called upon love in moments such as these.
Kit tightened his arms around her, holding her close as their lips finally parted. He was breathing hard, as was she, as though they had fought in battle together and now must find peace within each other’s arms. He rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes.
“I know not what magic you wield nor why it casts such a spell upon me,” he breathed. “I should hate you because of your father. I shouldn’t hunger for your touch, your lips...” He trembled again, and she nuzzled her nose against his. “But I dohunger... so much that it hurts.”
“Youare the one who casts spells,” she said in the same breathless voice he had. “I should be terrified of you, and yet I cannot seem to stay away.”
At last, he opened his eyes and held her tight a moment longer.
“I must go. I will have you picked up outside the theater tomorrow evening.”
Before she could collect herself, she was gently set down on the chair, and then he vanished out the door before she could speak.
It was only after he left that the remnants of whatever magic had come to life between them seemed to fade. She looked about her room and noticed with delightful dizziness that her green hair ribbon was gone from the back of her chair.
She smiled, and the buzz of lazy, wonderful magic from Kit’s kiss that felt like an endless summer burned strong within her again.
9
Kit lay on the pallet of blankets that covered the floor beside his bed, watching the green ribbon glow in the clear morning light. He had this silly, boyish expectation that by holding the ribbon, he’d summon its owner to him.
He had slept halfway to noon, and his body was loose and warm in the sunlight. Warm, gentle sunlight—what a wonderful thing, he reflected. Bright, warm, healing. Like Suzannah. Perhaps that was what drew him to her, the sense of knowing that the more he basked in her glow, the stronger he felt. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so comfortable and relaxed. He had nowhere to be, nothing to do—he could just lie here and bathe in the sun, thinking of a woman whose kiss was pure magic.
With a soft smile, he smoothed his thumb over the hair ribbon and replayed the kiss from last night. He wasn’t sure what had possessed him to ask her to touch him, but he didn’t regret it. Suzannah’s touch had filled him with a bittersweet ache for all the things he had lost in the last seven years.
What if...?
The words tiptoed across his mind, whispering tempting fantasies of what might have been. What if he had never been arrested? What if he had met Suzannah at a ball? What if they had danced together and shared a kiss on a moonlit veranda? What if he had been hopelessly in love with her and proposed marriage? What if he’d had a chance at happiness with her?
But those what-ifs would never come to pass. He was abrokenman. Such a normal life was impossible for him, a sweet dream he could hold briefly in his hands before it vanished once again.
Vincent strode into the bedchamber and found Kit on the floor, holding Suzannah’s ribbon like a lovestruck fool. “Kit... what the devil are you doing?”
“Vin, I believe it’s still customary to knock before barging into someone’s bedchamber, isn’t it?” Kit growled as he shoved away his blankets and stood. He’d slept in his trousers as he’d often done in Australia, which his poor valet, Nolan, seemed to find frustrating.
“You slept close to noon, and poor Palmer came down the street to fetch me. He was afraid to have anyone else wake you up. What’s this nonsense about sleeping on the floor?” He waved a hand at the pile of blankets. “Have a care, man. The servants are worried sick over you.”
Vincent dragged a hand through his hair and scowled at Kit as if it was all his fault. It was clear that beneath his friend’s frustration there was a softer emotion at play: concern. He still wasn’t used to being around his friends and feeling the depth of their brotherly love for him.
“You need not worry about me, Vin. I’m all right,” Kit said, forcing his tone to be more gentle.
“Are you?Lionel said you went to see the Townsend girl last evening. He said you’re... fixated on her.” Vincent’s gaze fell to the green ribbon Kit was idly twisting about his fingers. His dark eyes narrowed. “Tell me you didn’t hurt her. We haven’t proved yet if she had any knowledge of her father’s false testimony.”
“Of course I didn’t.” Kit’s own temper returned a little.
“Then why—?”
“Because... somehow... I’ve gone mad and I’ve come to care for her.” He wouldn’t have admitted that to anyone except a friend.
“Youcareabout her?” Vincent’s shoulders relaxed, and he now smiled wickedly. “Well, that’s an entirely different matter, isn’t it?” He slapped Kit’s shoulder. “Get dressed. We have much to do today.”
He wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that. He was tired of doing things. He wanted to rest.
“Yes. You need to buy a decent horse to ride, and you need a carriage and a team of four horses to pull it. You can’t always be hiring out a hackney. It’s time to think of your place in polite society now.”
“That reminds me... When I left, my father had a nice coach and a team of four. I hadn’t even given it a thought until now. What happened to the coach?”
“I believe he sold it and the horses, not because he needed the money, but because he’d stopped going out that last year before he passed.”
