Page 94 of A Whisper at Midnight

“I’m not sure she wants me to.”

The coach stopped in front of Tilda’s grandmother’s house. She still couldn’t be sure he was talking about her. Regardless, she was now thinking of what she would do if he did kiss her.

She’d kissed precisely one man. A boy, really. He’d been seventeen, and she’d been fifteen. It had been an experiment on her part—an investigation.

With Hadrian, she somehow knew it would be quite different. And she could not deny it intrigued her.

Leach opened the door, and Tilda once again spoke without thinking. “You may find the woman wouldn’t mind if you did.” She stepped out of the coach with Leach’s assistance and called back to Hadrian, “See you tomorrow.”

“I’ll pick you up at eleven to go to the drapery shop,” he said.

Hopefully by then Tilda would have stopped contemplating what it would be like to kiss him. She simply couldnotindulge such fancy.

Hadrian stepped out of his coach in front of Tilda’s grandmother’s house the following morning. The narrow terrace was neat and simple, a perfectly respectable home. But after his thoughts yesterday regarding what Tilda must think of his house, he was looking at hers in a new way.

Or perhaps it was the flirting they’d done yesterday.

He made his way slowly to the door, wondering how she would receive him. He feared he’d overstepped when he’d said there was only one woman he wanted to kiss. But he hadn’t thought about what he was saying. The words had shot from his mouth, a direct truth he’d never intended to share.

Because he hadn’t realized he wanted to kiss her until that moment.

Since then, the idea had occupied far too much of his mind. He needed to push it away and focus on their investigation.

Except she’d told him she wouldn’t mind him kissing her.

But had she, really? Perhaps she hadn’t even realized he was talking about her.

Hell, he was woefully out of practice with this sort of thing. He’d completely denied the potential for romantic entanglement since Beryl. This situation—allowing Beryl back into his life even for a short time—was making him think of things he’d buried for years, namely whether he truly wanted to forego marriage or if he was merely avoiding the possibility of anotherdisappointment. Of humiliation. Of wondering what he lacked and someone like Louis Chambers possessed.

Vaughn greeted him at the door just as a light rain started. Hadrian stepped inside to see Tilda waiting for him. She was back to wearing her regular wardrobe, which, after seeing her in yesterday’s new, extremely flattering gown, seemed lackluster. Still, regardless of what she wore, Hadrian found her beautiful. Perhaps even distractingly so after yesterday’s flirtation.

But he wasn’t going to think about that.

Tilda’s grandmother stepped into the entrance hall from the parlor and bade Hadrian good morning.

“Good morning, Mrs. Wren. I trust you are well.”

“Exceedingly, thank you.” She beamed at him.

Hadrian returned her smile. “I hope you don’t mind me taking Tilda away from you again.”

Mrs. Wren shook her head before looking upon her granddaughter with unabashed love and pride. “We shall never tire of your presence or your association with Tilda.”

Tilda drew on her second glove. “I’ll see you later, Grandmama.” She kissed her grandmother’s cheek before moving across the entrance hall.

Hadrian stepped aside as Vaughn opened the door. “It’s raining. I’ve a pair of umbrellas in the coach.”

She cocked a brow at him. “A pair?”

“Leach is always prepared,” Hadrian said with a chuckle.

“Well, they do us no good at the moment.” Her mouth curled into a grin. The expression was brief, but it lit the dreary day.

“I didn’t say good morning to you,” he said as they hurried to the coach. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” she replied as Leach opened the door and helped her inside.

Hadrian considered sitting opposite her. However, things did not seem to be awkward between them. Perhaps they were just going to ignore their conversation from yesterday.