Page 30 of A Gentleman's Reckoning
Fortunately, he did not hesitate and moved to sit beside her in the most natural way. That gesture alone caused her heart to start beating pitifully. Although she had had no designs when she suggested he sit by her, now that they were side by side, she could feel the warmth of his arm next to hers. It was a comforting, inviting sensation, and she understood why such proximity was generally avoided between unmarried ladies and gentlemen. She also suffered a pang of conscience that she hadnotinsisted that Charity accompany her.
Mr. Rowles skimmed the paper and pointed to the first name. “Gabriel seems to be an interesting choice. If he has such a prodigious memory, he may have a knack for more than just sums. I am less certain of Timothy, but I certainly trust your judgment, for you know them well.”
He turned to look at her and froze, as though he had only just been made aware of their closeness. With his gaze intent upon her, she could not answer for the space of a heartbeat. It was as though her breath had been knocked from her lungs.
She licked her lips and that drew his eyes downward, although this, too, had not been her intention. Suddenly, despite the fresh air of springtime pouring into the carriage, their confined space had grown too warm.
“Gabriel was the first person I thought of.” It was not without a struggle that she managed to get the words out, and not for the life of her could she pull her eyes from his. After she swallowed over her dry throat, she reached over with her gloved hand and pointed to the second name. His gaze followed reluctantly to where she pointed, and she drew a deep breath, striving for normalcy.
“Timothy is perhaps not as bright as some others, and certainly not as bright as Gabriel. However, he has an understanding of the way things work. He can fix just about anything, and his solutions are innovative. For that reason, I would like to see him have a chance at a position that will put these talents to use.”
“I will certainly follow your recommendations on this matter since you know the orphans better than I do.”
Mr. Rowles lifted his head and turned back to her, then went still as his regard held her captive. They remained like this for a charged moment, their gazes locked.
“My lady, forgive me for saying this, but I find that you unsettle me.” His voice was soft, but every word rang out like a bell and resonated in her heart.
Geny was breathless. “In what way?”
“You are unlike anyone I have ever met.” He broke the gaze, then immediately brought it back. “I confess that I am developing feelings for you that are inappropriate, given our difference in station.”
“I am not sure… It is perhaps unladylike of me to admit this, but…” Geny stopped, heart pounding, and yet unable to refrain from saying the rest. “I admit to feeling the same way.”
Something flashed in his eyes then. “Since that night at the Sookholme ball, I have longed to do this.” Mr. Rowles reached over and grazed his fingers along her cheek.
She closed her eyes and leaned into his hand. And as if he needed no more invitation, she flickered her eyes open just in time to see him bend his face downward. He touched his lips to hers, and white flashes like bursts of light came from behind her eyelids. He brought his other hand up and cradled her face as he continued to kiss her.
Geny’s heart pattered in her chest like the wings of a sparrow, and she rested one hand on his arm, leaning forward into the kiss. He slipped his other arm around her waist and focused only on kissing her, his fingers caressing the skin on her cheeks and neck. For one heavenly moment, she knew only the tenderness of his kiss. Not how lonely she was, not the difference between their stations. Inhaling deeply, he pulled her closer.
The carriage jerked forward, throwing them nearly onto the seat across from them. Outside, the groom cried out an oath, and the carriage rattled to a sharp halt. Mr. Rowles placed a protective hand on Geny’s side as he settled her back into her seat, his worried eyes examining her for injury. The carriage tilted, signaling the groom’s descent from the box, and Mr. Rowles leapt to the seat across from her, his chest heaving.
The groom opened the door and peered in with concern. “My lady, are you well? You appear overset. My apologies. Acow-handed gent cut off my path and left me with no choice but to rein in suddenly.”
“I am flustered,” she said. “But I do not blame you. Pray, do drive on.” Before he could close the door, she asked, “How much longer until we reach the asylum, Higgins?”
“In two minutes we’ll be there, my lady.”
The door shut, and they were once again in the dusky interior of the carriage. Geny folded her hands and attempted to regain her composure, a nearly impossible feat but one that must be done.
“My lady,” he began.
She feared what he would say and held up her hand, smiling feebly. “Please do not say anything about…that.” She could not bear to hear that he regretted having kissed her. It would spoil everything. “Would you tell me instead? What is your first name?
He looked at her in surprise, and then smiled faintly. “My name is John.”
John.Somewhere in her subconscious she recalled that Mr. Aubin’s Christian name was John as well. Margery had told her that the night after Mrs. Sookholme’s party, and she remembered it because she liked the name. It was a solid, reassuring sort of name. What an odd chance it was. She received his confidence with a smile but did not make free use of it.
Another shout came from outside, but this time it was followed by the sounds of iron gates being unlocked and opened. The carriage rattled over the cobblestones into the interior courtyard and came to a stop.
John and Geny locked eyes for a brief moment. He opened his mouth as if to say something but seemed to decide against it. The groom opened the door a second later, and he climbed out. Then he held out his hand to assist her, so she might alight.
In the full view of everyone, he became formal and bowedover her hand. “My lady, I wish to thank you for your assistance. I will bid you good day and return to my work.”
Geny nodded and mumbled something inarticulate about it having been no trouble. The disappointment of such formality after their closeness threatened to crush her. The fact that he could hardly have behaved in a different manner did not weigh with her, not when it came to her emotions. She wanted to prolong their time together and discuss what had just happened—to see that he had been affected by what they had shared as well. She wanted to know if…if they had a future together after such intimacy.
She turned to watch him walk toward the entrance and suddenly could not leave the asylum quickly enough. She called out to the groom, who had begun to lead the horses to the stable.
“Higgins, there is no need to unhitch the horses. I will stand here with them. Charity should be in the room where the girls are setting stitches. Fetch her for me, if you will.”
