Page 69 of Once More, My Darling Rogue
Goliath grinned, pleased as punch. “Shall I include a bottle of our fanciest wine?”
Drake had wine in his residence, but it wasn’t the fine vintage that Dodger’s had on hand. He shrugged. “Wouldn’t hurt.”
Chapter 18
He found her in the library, in a chair beside the fireplace, her legs tucked beneath her. The burgundy fabric would absorb her scent. When she was no longer here, it would no doubt become his favorite chair in the residence.
He didn’t think he made a noise, but she looked up and smiled at him, her lips forming the slight curve that he had begun to crave. “I wasn’t expecting you back tonight.”
“I wanted to ensure the horse got fed properly.” Walking to the fireplace, he set his elbow on the mantel, striving to ignore her bruised and battered face. He should have hit Morris once more, just for good measure. No, twice more. A dozen times more.
“How did things go with Morris?” she asked, as though reading his mind.
“He and I came to an understanding. He won’t be abusing any more horseflesh.”
Her smile widened, gratitude filled those lovely green eyes, and he felt like a rotten bastard. He should tell her everything now. Take her home. Before he’d left, he’d seen Somerdale on the gambling floor. He would only gain access to her dowry if people knew she was dead. He was either patiently waiting for her to wash ashore, not knowing she’d already washed up, or he didn’t know she’d been in danger of drowning. The latter seemed more likely. Which meant he was probably telling the truth about the uncle. But why was the uncle not trying to find her?
If she regained her memories, she might know what had happened. If he told her what he knew she might remember—and in the remembering he would lose her. “Have you had your dinner?”
“No. I didn’t want to go for my lesson when I knew packages would be arriving. By the time they were all delivered, I was quite exhausted from the day. I had a bit of cheese.”
The silk, satin, and lace he’d spotted on Ebenezer Whistler’s counter was in his residence, might even be on her person if she’d been impatient about feeling it next to her skin. He imagined skimming his hands over silk and flesh, slipping things off, slipping things in. Christ, he should return to the club before his imagination prodded him to do something they’d both regret. He saw her again, bravely facing down Morris. Courageous girl. Foolish but courageous.
He didn’t want to admire her, but dammit all to hell, he did.
I’m back off to the clubwas what he’d meant to say. But what he heard coming from his traitorous mouth was “I brought some food from the club. Care to joinme?”
They spread a blanket in the garden, set the large wicker basket at one end, and served themselves. Twilight eased in around them as the bustling noises from the streets quieted, creating an intimacy that Phee wasn’t certain she could ignore. While he didn’t have a proper garden with flowers adorning it, she no longer minded. Daisy wandered along the brick wall where the grass was tallest, nibbling here and there, obviously content with her lack of duties. Phee was equally content.
Drake still wore his jacket, waistcoat, and neck cloth. She wished she had changed out of her uniform, but she wanted to save her other clothing for a special occasion, although tonight seemed rather special. Marla’s earlier words echoed through Phee’s mind, and she couldn’t deny that an unusual camaraderie existed between her and Drake that seemed to defy the societal conventions of master and servant. If it wasn’t allowed for her to have tea with Mrs. Turner, how was it that she could enjoy a picnic with Drake? She didn’t know quite how to define their relationship. She knew only that she was terribly glad he was here.
She was also extremely grateful for everything that had come from the basket. The wine was superb. The beef was the most tender she’d ever eaten. Or at least that she recalled ever eating. She thought she should be more bothered by her lack of memories, and yet new ones were being created and she wanted to treasure them.
“I don’t understand why you don’t dine at the club every night,” she said. “It seems it has the most incredible cook.”
“I did eat there before you came here,” he said.
“I think you should return to eating there, and just send dinners ’round for me. This”—she held up a Brussels sprout she’d speared—“is remarkably tasty.”
“I suppose I could consider altering your duties.”
“A smart man would, as it will take me forever to learn to prepare food that is this delicious.”
“Forever? You have no doubt you’ll become an amazing cook?”
“I believe I can do anything I set my mind to.” She stopped, considered. “Yes, I really do believe that. Sometimes I have a thought and it feels as though it’s part of my soul, something I pulled up from deep down in that well of nothingness. Like today with Daisy. I knew I could not stand by and watch that horse be abused. I saw people walking by as though nothing were amiss, and I just couldn’t do the same, carry on as though I wasn’t witnessing an injustice.”
“I had no idea you could move so quickly. One moment you were examining asparagus and the next you were loping toward that brute. At first I thought you’d caught sight of someone from your past, that your memories had returned.” Grinning, he peered at her over the lip of his wineglass. “But then you were terrifying the poor gent.”
“He’s hardly a gent, and I don’t believe I terrified him in the least, but I was so angry. I didn’t know I had it in me to be that furious. I’ve been thinking about it, though, and I’m rather certain I’ve done it before.”
“Beaten men to a bloody pulp?”
She smiled, so enjoying the ease with which they conversed. She could tell him anything, trust him with her deepest secrets. If she had any. “Rescued animals. I think that’s why I had such a hard time with the pheasant, looking at me as it was.” She thought some more, nodded with certainty as images came to mind. “I want to have a place in the country where I can nurture animals that are broken in body or spirit.” She beamed with wonder. “Yes, that’s my dream. I knew I had one but I couldn’t remember it. But that’s what it is. I know that’s what it is.”
“Most ladies dream of marrying.”
She shook her head, conviction in the depths of her soul. “I don’t want to marry.”
