Page 3 of The Viscount’s Second Chance (The Lovers’ Arch: Later in Life)

Five Years Later

"Y our dancing skills are atrocious!”

“Only as atrocious as the partner who is supposed to guide me,” Nora snapped back, trying her best to keep the smile from her face and her voice. “It is a wonder you haven’t been banned from Society for maiming the delicate toes of all the women in London.”

“I beg your pardon!” Thomas froze mid-step, nearly causing Nora to careen into him. She very well would have had he not been holding her so firmly within the circle of his arms. “I’ve yet to crush anyone’s feet. It is I who should be grateful that my boots are so solid and you are so light, else I would be the one hobbling around.”

Nora narrowed her eyes up at him, smoothly finding his great toe with her heel and pressing down.

He yanked his foot back, muttering a half-hearted curse beneath his breath even though his lips threatened to blossom into one of his full-blown grins. She adored his smile.

“If I am such a horrendous partner, then perhaps we should conclude this lesson,” Nora said sweetly.

“We cannot stop!” came a light voice from the nearby settee. “Your debut is not all that far away and you should know how to waltz.” Beth was watching their fumbling progress from her comfortable perch at the pianoforte where she plunked out a basic tune to help guide their movements. She’d spent the afternoon providing all manner of commentary and well-intentioned instruction, though Beth, herself, had only just mastered the dance the week before. “How mortifying would it be if a handsome man asked you to waltz with him and you didn’t know the steps?”

Was it her imagination, or did Thomas’s fingers tighten around hers? “No man will ask me to waltz, Beth,” sighed Nora. The dance was considered rather scandalous because of the intimate manner in which the partners were positioned. They both knew it was unlikely that a debutant would be asked to partake in a waltz, let alone that Lady Mylton would allow it.

Still, that made Nora all the more delighted to be learning the steps in secret…and in Thomas’s arms.

The past five years had seen a strengthening of the bond between Nora and Beth, with Nora spending weeks at a time in the Bexton household. They had become more like sisters than Nora was to her own blood relations. At home, she was the pest; at Glen House, she was like another daughter to the Viscountess. And she would have believed she was viewed as another sister to Thomas…were it not for the events of the past few months.

Having concluded his studies, Thomas flitted back and forth from London to his family’s country home with more frequency than most men of his age and social standing. He claimed it had been for his sister’s benefit—wanting to be there for her frail health—but it didn’t go beyond Nora’s notice that his visits were often timed when she was visiting Glen House…not that she minded.

Her first impression of Beth’s brother had remained true. He was kind and infinitely thoughtful when it came to Beth. Of course, he could also be vexing, but there was far more to admire about him than not.

He snuck them books from London bookshops; he brought them fine chocolates and ribbons in their favorite colors, he even appeared one day with a tiny kitten tucked into the deep pocket of his greatcoat when Nora had offhandedly expressed her desperate longing for a cat. The last had caused quite the uproar at home, but her mother had eventually come ‘round and now the calico cat was far too fat and far too spoiled.

Though he was now two-and-twenty while she and Beth were in their seventeenth year, he never forgot about them.

Case in point, Thomas had returned to the country at Beth’s bidding that she and Nora simply must learn to waltz or they would be an embarrassment. Of course, neither the viscountess nor Nora’s mother would permit the girls to learn the steps, so Thomas was summoned and dubbed their new instructor. He grumbled an appropriate amount, but even Nora could tell he was enjoying himself.

Nearly as much as Nora was.

She loved Beth, but there was no denying that another draw for her visits to Glen House were the chances to see Thomas.

The years had brought them closer, their shared adoration for Beth bonded them, his kindness endeared him to her, and the way he held her there in that sunny music room made her feel all kinds of new and thrilling things.

Somewhere between their first meeting and that first failed waltz, her heart had fallen hard for him. And, though she was admittedly naive to much of the world, she liked to believe that he felt a little of the same. She read it in the way she caught him watching her, the gentleness of his tone when he spoke to her, the way he smiled at her, the way he so obviously enjoyed making her laugh, and how close he held her just then…when his ice-blue eyes kept flitting down to her mouth. Thomas frequently sought her out during his visits home—and not only when she was in the company of his sister.

Beth was often urged by her mother to take a rest in the afternoon; this was most often when Thomas came to Nora. He walked with her in the orchard, scaling the limbs in his shirtsleeves with lithe grace and plucking ripe fruit for her pleasure. He never spoke over her or made her feel like a silly girl, inclining his head with the most intent, sincere glimmer in his entrancing eyes. In fact, he seemed to file away what he learned about her passions and interests, retrieving the knowledge and subtly displaying it in whatever token or treat he brought back with him from Town. The back of his hand had brushed hers on far too many occasions for it to have been accidental; it was the same with the way thumb was currently caressing her back where he held her as they attempted to stumble through the dance. It was no accident or coincidence. Thomas was nothing if not intentional in everything he did.

“Lady Beth.”

Nora jolted back from Thomas’s embrace as if a white-hot current of lightning had separated them instead of the voice of one of the maids. The young woman advised Beth that the seamstress had arrived and her presence was required for fittings and alterations.

“How unfortunate,” sighed Beth. She’d moved from the pianoforte to a sofa and her slim, fragile frame slumped back into the cradle of cushions piled around her.

Meanwhile, Thomas’s palm had yet to remove itself from the curve of Nora’s lower back, masked from their audience by the angle at which they stood. Her entire body tingled, the ripples of it emanating from the warm plane of his palm, seeping through the layers of her clothing.

“I’ll spare you, Nora,” Beth said in a rather magnanimous tone. “The weather is so fine and I know how you enjoy your walks. Save yourself and enjoy your freedom whilst I am Mother’s captive for the next three hours.”

“So dramatic,” Nora giggled.

“You really should consider a career on the stage,” Thomas added with a quirk of his brow.

“Wouldn’t that be quite the sight?” Nora and Thomas shared a conspiratorial smile. “Beth would no doubt send the viscountess into conniptions while winning over the hearts of all of London.”

“Poor Mother. She’d never survive her daughter’s success.” The gravity in Thomas’s tone was finally enough to break her resolve. A little unladylike snort of laughter sneaked past her barriers.

“Laugh away,” Beth said, standing and waving off their jest while she shook the wrinkles from her pale pink dress. “Maybe you two had best continue your dancing practice. Three hours should be sufficient time to become less laughable in your efforts.” From anyone else, the words might have been biting. From Beth, however, they were infused with her uniquely dry sense of humor, underscored by the most breathtaking depth of love.

“Doubtful,” Nora murmured, her heart skipping dangerously when Thomas’s hand curved around her waist in an intimately affectionate gesture. “I’d much rather—”

“Take a turn around the gardens?” Thomas finished for her, turning to look down into her face with a gentle, knowing smile.

He’d already begun guiding her to the door when she began to nod.

They walked and chatted, but Nora quickly recognized an unfamiliar reticence in Thomas’s demeanor. He nodded and smiled at all the right times, he escorted her with all his usual grace and attentiveness, but she’d come to know him well enough at that point to say with confidence that something had driven him to distraction.

She halted her steps and a small frown knitted Thomas’s dark brows together. “What troubles you so?” The words were more statement than question as if his honest reply was a foregone conclusion—there was no question that something was wrong, only the unknown cause.

Thomas loosed an exasperated breath of resigned laughter. “I should have known…” He gave a little shake of his head and guided her to a nearby bench.

“Should have known what?” She tried to keep her tone light, but the penetrating way Thomas was gazing at her was as palpable as a fingertip upon her skin.

“That you would…never you mind.”

Nora was annoyed by his vagueness, but she settled for smoothing her pale lavender skirts and biting the inside of her cheek. There was clearly something of gravity on Thomas’s mind.

“Don’t become sullen,” Thomas said lightly, capturing one of her hands in his. Neither of them wore gloves and the sensation of his hot skin on hers was absurdly thrilling. Her eyes were riveted upon the sight of their clasped hands; her breath stopped when his fingers wove through hers.

“Nora…” Thomas rasped.

With some difficulty, she looked up into his dear face, now so close to hers that she could see the deep blue streaks in the icy discs of his irises, the strong brow and bold nose, his expressive mouth set above his handsomely angular jaw. There was something in his eyes she did not recognize—something powerful enough that made her feel as if they were teetering at a precipice…and whatever was about to transpire would change them forever.

“Thomas…” His name upon her lips was a plea that made his eyelids flutter and his fingers tighten between hers.

Her grip tightened, too.

Pulses pounding in anticipation, they sat there for several minutes with the lengths of their sides pressed intimately close and their faces tilted toward one another.

Suddenly, Thomas cleared his throat and averted his eyes. “You know I’ve grown quite fond of you, Nora.” Heart in her throat, she could only nod in response. “The years have afforded us the opportunity to garner an uncommon closeness…a closeness which has come to mean a great deal to me.” Nora remained still, hardly daring to breathe—especially when Thomas’s eyes finally met hers once more. “Nora…” he breathed, using his free hand to tuck a chestnut curl behind her ear. “The thought of you making your debut…of other men paying call upon you drives me mad. I cannot bear to imagine any of them escorting you, flirting with you…” She didn’t think she imagined the faint pinkness on his cheeks. Good lord, Thomas was actually blushing! Over her! “I kept telling myself that it was for the best. You deserve to be wooed and courted and danced attendance upon like the princess you are. But today…waltzing with you…holding you in my arms…I faced the truth that nothing—no one—would ever feel so right.” Thomas’s fingers tickled the back of Nora’s neck and she barely managed to stifle a shiver of pleasure before the most wonderful words tumbled from his lips: “May I kiss you, Nora?”

She swallowed thickly and nodded, adding, “Please,” for good measure in case he misunderstood her reply. She needn’t have worried, however, because no sooner had the word taken flight from her lips than his beautiful mouth slanted over hers.

Though she’d been expecting it, the contact was still startling in its passionate urgency. Thomas’s lips were soft, but firm. His hand cupped the back of her neck and his hot body leaned into her. Nora leaned as well, like a sunflower reaching for the light, as she sighed. How long had she hoped he might kiss her? That Thomas would see her as more than his sister’s closest companion? And it was heady to finally learn that he, too, had been pining after her all these years. Her hand curled around his forearm, holding him in place and prolonging the moment.

Thomas broke the contact first, though he didn’t retreat far. He pressed his forehead to hers and their tremulous breaths mingled in the slim space between them. He sighed her name and a shiver danced up and down her spine. She’d never thought her name could be so…sensuous.

Could make her tingle.

Unable to resist, Nora wound her arms around his neck and pulled his lips down to meet hers once more. The action seemed to cause his restraint to snap.

Gone was the tentative, chaste behavior reserved for their first kiss. This one spoke of years of aching desire and something else Nora felt but was unable to name. Whatever it was made her skin zing with awareness at every point Thomas touched her; her flesh flushed with sudden overwhelming heat when his tongue—his tongue —swept across the seam of her lips; her thighs pressed together in a vain attempt to assuage the ache that blossomed there when Thomas uttered a deep groan of approval when she allowed him access to her mouth.

His tongue began stroking hers and, while it took Nora several seconds to settle in, she’d always been a quick study. She learned his rhythm and began responding in kind to every stroke. He tasted of tea and Cook’s shortbread—sweet and buttery and warm.

“Good God, Nora,” Thomas hissed in between kisses. He pressed his thumb at the point where her jaw met her throat, guiding her to tilt her head slightly and provide him with better access for his machinations. She might have been worried her technique was inadequate, but, as always, Thomas had a way of making her comfortable. It emboldened her. They took turns nipping and tasting, savoring their newfound connection and sinking into the realization of long-held desires.

Once again, Thomas had to be the reasonable one and he broke the kiss. Both of them were panting, and Thomas had to clear his throat before he could speak. “We should stop,” he rasped and adjusted his seat. Nora barely resisted the urge to fan her flaming cheeks.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No!” Thomas rushed to reassure her and took her hands in his, engulfing them in his large palms. “Not at all.” He glanced over her shoulder at the house. “I wouldn’t wish you to be embarrassed if we were to be happened upon.”

“Oh.” Nora’s cheeks burned brighter. She’d entirely forgotten that they were not the only two beings in the world. She cast her eyes down and watched as his blunt thumb circled the petite bumps of her knuckles. She gnawed on her kiss-plumped lower lip, thrilled that she could still taste a hint of Thomas there. “What does this mean for us?” she asked, feeling embarrassingly naive. Thomas’s reaction, however, only solidified her feelings for him.

Crooking a finger beneath her chin, he raised her face so she had no choice but to meet his ice-blue eyes. “What do you want this to mean?” Nora opened her mouth to speak, but he interrupted her with, “And tell the truth, not what you think you are supposed to say.”

She couldn’t help but offer him a small smile. “I want more of this…” she replied, her cheeks heating uncomfortably until she saw Thomas’s brilliant smile.

“As do I.” Emboldened by his reaction and his response, she forged on. “And…I’ve never imagined any man other than you being the one who danced attendance.”

His deep chuckle made her shiver. “What tricks will you have me do to earn another kiss?” he asked, cupping her cheek in his large palm.

“Are you able to stand on your head? Juggle?” she asked, tapping a finger on her chin in a thoughtful expression. Thomas’s laugh that time was full-bodied and earth-shakingly attractive.

Was this flirting? If it was, she never wanted it to end.

“For you, Princess? I shall endeavor to learn.” His breath tickled her lips as he leaned in again.