Page 9 of Lady Elizabeth’s Winter Stranger

At her deepest level, she didn’t mean that at all.

But voices on the other side of the hedge signaled that a family passed by.

She was painfully conscious that someone just had to take the narrow path between the holly bushes to stumble upon her entangled in Tom’s arms. Despite those heady kisses, she wasn’t entirely lost to prudence.

Although if Tom kept kissing her, she wasn’t sure that her caution would persist.

“We should.” He sounded as reluctant as she did.

She wasn’t sure who shifted, her or Tom. But they were kissing again with a fervor that made her head spin. This time, breaking free of his embrace was so difficult that it verged on the impossible.

He groaned when at last she found the willpower to end the kiss. “We need to get back into the open,” he rasped out.

Her hands tightened on his shoulders, as if her body resisted that idea, even while her mind recognized its necessity. “Yes.”

Another kiss, but Elizabeth couldn’t forget the danger.

This time, when Tom lifted his head, she struggled onto her feet and held out her hand.

Standing presented a challenge. Those thrilling kisses had transformed her once perfectly functional knees to jelly.

“Come on, Tom. Let’s see if we can find some more winsome tots to rescue. ”

Heavy-lidded eyes dwelled on her. He looked like he hadn’t yet returned to the snowy reality of Hyde Park on Christmas Day. Her kisses had transported him as thoroughly as his had transported her. She stifled a surge of pleasure at the thought.

His face was flushed, and his lips were full and dark. Dear heaven, what delight those lips could deliver. For a prickling moment, Elizabeth considered returning to his arms. Then she straightened her backbone and stiffened her wobbly knees and told herself to be strong.

She watched him suck in a deep breath, as the dazed pleasure seeped from his face. The ardent lover faded from view. He became again the debonair stranger she’d met mere hours ago.

Although after those kisses, he’d never be a stranger again.

“I wouldn’t describe Cyril as winsome.”

Her laugh cracked. Despite her best efforts to appear calm, she was still shaky. Tom’s kisses made her blood churn, and his taste lingered on her lips. “I’m not sure I would either.”

With visible regret, he picked up his hat and placed it on his head. She shared his regret, but she could no longer forget that they were in a public place.

Would she find a chance to kiss Tom again, free from the fear of discovery?

The idea made her heart leap with forbidden elation.

Perhaps if they had privacy, he’d do more than kiss her.

The shocking idea made her breath catch in her throat.

The need to avoid a trip to Scotland became even more urgent.

To her relief, Tom rose and took her hand. The contact went a little way toward making up for her self-sacrifice in abandoning his kisses. She curled her fingers around his, as if making a silent vow of allegiance.

They emerged from the hedge to discover that the brighter weather had enticed more people into the park. Tom paused beside the holly hedge to pull up the hood of her cape. His care for her reputation warmed her heart in a different way from that passionate embrace.

To her dismay, the short winter’s day closed in, bringing an end to her freedom. Tom must have noticed, too, because he frowned and spoke with uncharacteristic force. “Damn it, I want you to stay. But you’re about to tell me that you have to go, aren’t you?”

Elizabeth was just as torn. She felt like she’d gained a friend and a lover, although their acquaintance was too short for him to qualify as the first and every rule of society barred him from becoming the second.

“And this time, I’ll mean it,” she said ruefully. If she was to have a hope of bringing her father around from his draconian plans, she needed to mind her manners for the next little while.

Should Lord Tierney discover that his oldest daughter had been romping around Hyde Park like an amorous milkmaid, he wouldn’t even give her the option of marrying the man of his choice. He’d pack her off to Great-Aunt Agatha before Elizabeth could say “I do” to her imposed bridegroom.

“Let me take you home.”

“Across Picadilly at least.”

It would be bad enough if she was caught alone out on the streets of London. If someone saw her with a man, her goose would be cooked.

But Elizabeth wasn’t yet ready to relinquish Tom’s company.

Goodness, given a choice, she’d never leave him.

Which was mad. Through four seasons, no swain had made her heart skip a beat.

After one snowy afternoon in Hyde Park, a stranger had enthralled her so completely that she had difficulty imagining they would never meet again.

“Thank you,” she said, pulling her hood further forward and slipping her hand around his elbow. Already the act of walking at his side seemed natural, something she could happily do for the rest of her life.

She waited for him to resume their playful banter, but he remained quiet as they walked toward the gates that she’d used to enter the park. She didn’t say much either. It was one of those awkward occasions when one said absolutely everything lurking in one’s heart or nothing at all.

To her relief, nobody spared the tall man and the caped woman at his side a second glance. Right now, being in Tom’s company made her less noticeable than if she was unescorted.

They wended their way through the streets to Piccadilly, crossed the road, and paused in the recessed doorway of a closed glove shop.

A few feet away, the world and his wife went on their merry way.

Traffic clattered past, and people hurried home out of the cold, looking forward to their Christmas revels.

Lucky them. Most years, Elizabeth enjoyed the Tierney family Christmas. Not this year. And not just because at the very least, she’d have to be civil to Stanton Morley-Bridges tonight.

In the shadows of the doorway, she could barely see Tom’s face. He was just a warm, solid presence in the gloom. Now that she couldn’t see him, that alluring, spicy scent flooded her nostrils in a most intoxicating way. She was more aware than ever of his imposing height.

“Can you get home without consequences?” His velvety baritone stroked her senses as powerfully as if he touched her.

“I should be able to sneak in through the kitchens.” As long as the servants weren’t back already. She really was taking a risk, lingering now. The timing grew dangerously tight.

Out of sight of the street, Tom rested one hand on her hip where it pressed against the shop’s wooden door. The heat that radiated from his touch vied with the creeping chill in her heart at having to forsake him.

“I don’t want you to go.” His voice turned low and savage. “These hours with you have been magic. I can’t even kiss you goodbye.”

She tipped her face toward him. “We should have gone back to our hidden place in the holly.”

When he shook his head, she knew he smiled. “No, we shouldn’t.”

“Oh?”

“Because we’d still be there.”

They would. “You can’t take me all the way home. If anyone sees us together, there will be the devil to pay.”

“I’m not leaving you alone in the middle of this crowd.”

From the start, she’d recognized his strong protective streak. He’d demonstrated it when he climbed an oak to save the presumptuous Cyril. It had made him offer Elizabeth his company when he saw her.

“I live in a square off Piccadilly.” That was an admission of her status. He’d know even more about her, if he accompanied her to the short side street leading to Lorimer Square. But she’d decided that she didn’t want to be a mystery to Tom. She wanted him to be able to find her again.

“Then I’ll take you that far.”

“Thank you.” She rested her hands on his chest, wishing several layers of fine English wool didn’t muffle his heartbeat. A winter meeting involved far too much heavy clothing. She wished to heaven that they’d met in summer, so when she touched him, she could feel the warmth of his skin.

Although in summer, the park would be so crowded, she’d never risk a solitary walk.

Their kisses had sparked a craving for more than his conversation. She loved talking to him. She loved his sense of humor. She loved his transparent interest in what she said. Pretty girls were used to men admiring their looks, but less used to men being curious about their thoughts and feelings.

But Tom had awoken her animal impulses. Now above all, she wanted physical contact. Kisses. Touches. His breath on her skin. His heart thundering beneath her palms.

“Damn it, I want to see you again.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. Could her hands on him have the same incendiary effect as his on her? “Can you get away tomorrow?”

While hearing that he didn’t want things to end was no surprise, it made her happy. “I don’t know.”

How dictatorial was Papa likely to be? Would he forbid her from leaving the house?

A faint frown drew those expressive brows together. “Do you want to see me again?”

“Of course I do,” she said, before she thought of playing flirtatious games.

He smiled at her. One of those lovely smiles that made her silly heart turn cartwheels. “I hoped you would.”

“I kissed you.” She was grateful that her hood and the unreliable light hid her blush. “It’s a sign that I like you.”

“I could say the same.”

She smiled back, enraptured despite the looming disaster of tonight’s Christmas party. Because chance or fate or providence had tossed this marvelous man in her path when under normal circumstances, it was likely that they’d never have met.

“If I can, I’ll come out riding at dawn. If not, I’ll do my best to get you a message.” It was a pity Flossie was with her family. Elizabeth could trust her with a note.

“I’ll wait near the gates.”

“I’ll look for you.”

“I won’t be able to steal you away for a kiss.”

Her dour groom Stubbs would have a fit if she ran off into the bushes to kiss Tom. He’d make sure that Papa heard about her sins, the minute she got home. “No. But perhaps—”

“We could talk about future meetings?”

“I’d like that.” In the restricted space, she made herself shift away from him. “Now I really must go.”

She prayed that the servants hadn’t come back early. She prayed that her parents hadn’t had a quick trip south. The idea of being sent away to Scotland now, when life in London turned so intriguing, was too awful to contemplate.

Tom took her arm, and they stepped out of the doorway together. She kept her head down so the loose hood concealed her face. She’d managed to escape discovery so far, but this close to home, the risk became more immediate.

Elizabeth was glad of Tom’s arm, and not just because she liked touching him.

The crowd on the street was rowdy with Christmas cheer.

Carol singers stood in front of Hatchards, and a host of vendors had set up on the footpath, hawking mulled wine and sweets and decorative sprigs of holly.

Their old friend, the chestnut seller, had even found himself a new patch, although he was busy with customers and didn’t notice Tom and Elizabeth passing.

“This is where I turn off,” she said when they reached her corner.

“This leads to Lorimer Square,” Tom said with audible surprise. While he must have already guessed that she was a lady, Lorimer Square was one of the most exclusive addresses in London.

“Yes, it’s where I live.” She tugged free of his arm. Whatever she might prefer, she couldn’t linger for a long farewell. “I should be safe going on from here. Even if someone sees me in the square, I can make some excuse that I slipped out for a breath of air.”

“I’ll wait here. I can watch until you turn off into the square. Call out if you run into trouble.”

“I doubt you’d hear me over the din.”

“I’ll always hear you, Flossie.”

She paused to look deep into his eyes. “My name isn’t Flossie.”

Elizabeth was acutely aware of this moment’s significance. So far, they’d played an enjoyable game, but once Tom knew who she was and where she lived, the game ended and real life took over. This budding attraction between them might blossom into something very significant indeed.

His lips turned down with the humor that she’d liked from the first. “You don’t say.”

“It’s Elizabeth.”

“Elizabeth?” He looked ridiculously pleased.

She supposed he recognized that she was ready to put an end to the mysteries between them.

Next time they were alone together – and she was sure that time would come – they’d learn everything they needed to know about each other.

Although they’d already learned the most important thing: that a raging fire of desire burned between them.

“Goodbye, Tom. And happy Christmas.”

He caught her hand and squeezed it in a way that somehow translated to her heart cramping with yearning. “Happy Christmas, Elizabeth. It’s been marvelous.”

“Yes, it has.” She mustered a mighty effort to tug her hand free and rush down the snowy street toward her house. She didn’t look back. But all the way, she could feel his gaze on her.