Page 92 of A Wicked Game

Harriet felt heat warming her cheeks, but Morgan seemed as at ease as ever.

“If that’s acceptable to you, sir?”

The subtext behind the words made Harriet’s stomach twist. Morgan wasn’t just asking permission for a carriage ride alone. He was asking if Father agreed to them courting in general. To them being a couple.

Father sent them both a long look. And then his face broke out into a smile as he opened his arms wide for Harriet to come and hug him. “If it would make Harriet happy, then you have my blessing.”

Harriet crossed the room and hugged him tightly. “I think it would make me very happy,” she murmured into his shoulder.

Father pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Oh, Harry. I know the sacrifices you’ve made for me these past few years. You’re the best daughter a man could have. Thank you.” His arms tightened as he bent and whispered in her ear, “Go. Take something for yourself. Even if itmustbe one of those devilish Davieses.”

He pulled back and shooed her away, but not before she saw the betraying sheen of tears in his eyes. He cleared his throat. “Well, off you go then. And Davies?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Take good care of my daughter.”

Morgan nodded, and sent Harriet a simmering look from beneath his lashes. “Yes, sir. I intend to.” He offered her his arm, elbow bent. “Come along, Miss Montgomery. Adventure awaits.”

When they were safely ensconced in the carriage and rattling down Bury Street, Harriet sent Morgan a questioning look. She’d expected him to sit next to her on the seat, but instead he’d kept his distance and settled his long, elegant frame on the bench across from hers.

“Well, what a night!” she breathed.

Morgan made a wry face. “Not exactly the evening Ihad planned, but no matter. One should never complain about a bit of excitement. Makes one appreciate the quiet times all the more.”

“I didn’t think you adventurous types liked quiet times?”

Her tone was teasing, but Morgan answered her with perfect seriousness.

“Of course we do. I can’t tell you how often I’velongedfor quiet times. Especially after weeks at sea on a boat with thirty other men, all shouting and laughing, singing and quarreling.”

Harriet smiled.

“There’s a lot to be said for being alone,” Morgan said quietly.

“Don’t you get lonely?”

He shrugged. “Being alone isn’t the same as being lonely. It’s possible to be lonely in a room full of people.” His gaze snagged on hers. “Do you ever get lonely, Harriet? Because I do.”

Harriet blinked at this unexpected admission. She’d never imagined Morgan would tell her something so personal, or make himself so vulnerable. “You? But you’re theton’s golden boy. Invited everywhere. Always surrounded by people.”

By women, she added silently.

His mouth made a cynical little quirk. “Yes, I have friends. Plenty of people I can go to the opera with, or drink with at the club. People I can converse with for an hour or so.”

Ladies to warm my bed at the click of my fingers.

“But that’s not the problem.”

“Then what is?”

His eyes bored into hers. “It’s finding someone to donothingwith, that’s the real test. Someone with whom tojust sit and read by the fire. Someone to eat dinner with. To converse with, ornotconverse, as the mood takes us.”

Harriet’s heart was hammering against her ribs.

I want to be that person. I want to do nothing and everything with you.

She didn’t say it. Instead, she reached into the pocket of her cloak and brought out the map he’d pressed into her hand in Lady Bressingham’s garden.