Page 69 of Beyond Scandal and Desire
All the children scattered except for the thumb-sucking lass who now clutched a rag doll and stared up at him. He glowered in return. “Off you go, Amy girl. I’ll give you a ride on my back later.”
Fortunately, it was enough to appease her and send her scampering away. Approaching Aslyn, he held out his hand. She placed hers in it and he drew her to her feet, fought the urge to draw her into his arms. Her ever vigilant maid was standing watch.
“They adore you,” Aslyn said. “How often do you come?”
“Every couple of weeks or so. We all rotate checking in, making sure it’s all as it should be.”
“It’s a magnificent residence. You pay a pretty penny for it.”
“We wanted to give the children something as close to a home as we could.”
“Because you grew up without one.”
“We didn’t grow up in anything fancy, but our mum’s love made it a home.”
“Of course it did. I didn’t mean to imply otherwise.”
He almost offered to show her where he grew up, but she didn’t need to see or understand the exact harshness of his life. He’d moved beyond it. All that mattered was where he stood now.
“Mr. Trewlove?”
He glanced over at the matron. “Yes, Nancy.”
“The tea is set up on the terrace as you asked.”
“Thank you.” He turned back to Aslyn. “Would you care for some tea?”
That smile again, the one that would haunt him if his actions caused it to fade away. “Practicing for the day you’re invited into a nobleman’s parlor?”
It pleased him that she remembered. “No, simply an excuse to spend more time in your company.”
Her cheeks flushed pink, and he wondered if he could make other areas of her turn pink with strategically placed kisses.
“Tea would be grand,” she said.
All the guilt she’d felt at coming here against the duchess’s wishes dissipated the moment she’d walked through the door and seen him waiting for her. His eyes had warmed with pleasure, his mouth had tipped up slightly at the corners. Joy had surged through her, and she’d known that she would willingly go against any of the duchess’s wishes in order to spend more time in his company.
Here was further proof that Mick had no interest in using her to elevate himself, because there was no one of any consequence to see them together. He was ever mindful of her reputation, carefully guarding it by keeping his distance when he should. The one time he’d overstepped the bounds they’d been alone, with no witnesses, and while the kiss may have been inappropriate, her reputation had remained intact. Sitting here with him on the terrace, sipping tea, she wished it was night, all the children abed, and they were alone to indulge their desires.
And she did desire him, but what future was there for them? Last night the duchess had once again made her position clear regarding those she saw as beneath her. But in five years, Aslyn’s trust would be handed over to her in full. She would move out of Hedley Hall, into her own residence. She would be on the shelf, no longer a woman men sought for marriage. She would have complete and full independence, absolute say in all the decisions affecting her life. Would Mick Trewlove wait five years for her?
She nearly laughed aloud at the absurd thought. He’d made no claims on her, professed no love, although he did offer sweet endearments. Still, it was likely he wouldn’t wait so long as a week for her, that she was to him what she had carried in her arms into the orphanage: merely a toy to be played with until broken or grown weary of, forgotten. He had once played with a duke’s widow. Why not an earl’s daughter?
“I’m not certain I like where those thoughts are taking you,” he said quietly, sending her morose musings scattering.
She focused her attention on him, his hand resting near a china teacup it would dwarf when he picked it up. “I’m sorry. My thoughts were drifting.”
“Not toward happy places if that tiny dent that formed between your eyebrows was any indication.”
She was flattered by how closely he watched her, how much attention he paid to her. “Are you ever invited to balls?”
“Hosted by the lords and ladies of London? No.”
“The duchess never hosts balls. If she did, I would invite you.”
“I would weather the censure and cuts for you.”
“Perhaps there would be none.”
