“Emma, this dress does not seem daring to you?”
“You look beautiful, Mina. Lavender becomes you so well.”
“I should have worn my shawl.” A ridiculous statement. No one would pay her décolletage any mind. The ballroom of the Government House was massive, and scores of women filled the space—with nary a shawl in sight.
Emma lowered her voice so as not to be overhead. “You are not used to the neckline, that’s all. You disguise your figure too well. You always have.”
Mina ignored the urge to tug her dress high over her bosom. Life in Chesterfield did not include formal balls—and never a gown as revealing as the one she wore now. But perhaps a lady did appear to full advantage in such a dress. And she needed every advantage.
Emma noticed someone and stiffened. “Mr. Block is behind you. His waistcoat is a houndstooth pattern in navy and green.”
Mina turned, discreetly studying the man swirling his whiskey. “He does not look recently widowed.”
“He looks aware that he is most eligible.”
Mr. Block caught their study and flashed an enormous smile to them.
But his smile didn’t crinkle his eyes.
Emma was caught by Genevieve and pulled into a circle of their friends. Mina started to follow but a hand touched her arm.
“Minnie?”
She turned, and there stood the man she was unfortunately always thinking of, with his deep voice and tilted smile and large hands that were always fussing with something. Tonight it appeared to be a long seedpod.
“Mr. Mayhew?” He was so handsome in his suit, and with his golden hair combed into a sleek queue, her heart whimpered before she could steel it. “Good evening. I did not expect to see you here.”
“Neither did anyone else. I wasn’t invited.”
She checked if anyone had overheard. “How did you—”
“In all my days, Minnie, I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as you tonight.”
A terrible flirt…and yet she still blushed down to her bosom. She really should have brought her shawl. “Thank you, Mr. Mayhew. And you”—my goodness, the man’s shoulders—“you look very handsome this evening.”
His grin broke into a smile. And that was adorable.
“Thank you.” He wiped a big hand over his smile but didn’t manage to erase it. “It’s not so easy finding a good coat, my height being unnatural. You wouldn’t understand, being normal-shaped.” His eyes swept her from tip to toe, stopping on her bosom before leaping back up to her face. But they dipped down again before darting up toward the ceiling.
Her corset was suddenly suffocating, and she surreptitiously checked her décolletage—oh.
Oh. From his high vantage point, he might be seeing even more of her than others.
She held her chin up, trying for an air of nonchalance in the matter of all her exposed parts. “What is that in your hand, Mr. Mayhew?”
He didn’t seem to hear her for a moment, and then raised his brow in question. “Ay?”
The word was a tug on her heart. Pure Midlands in that. She pointed to his hand, and he presented the pod he was holding in his massive hand.
“Don’t know,” he said. “Wanted to ask Tom. Saw it on my way here.”
“It isn’t familiar to you?”
“I’m not all that skilled in identifying trees.”
Confused, she searched his face but he only smiled down at her with the usual kind, appreciative light in his eyes. “Are trees not your specialty, then?”
“I’m no botanist, Minnie.” He dropped his gaze. “I studied for a certificate in horticulture, but East India mainly needed a man to journey into the jungles and collect anything that looked useful. And who wouldn’t die. That was probably the more important skill—the not dying. But I had a talent for finding the useful, too. I probably overlooked a bit that was valuable, but not much.”
She shook her head. “No, you wouldn’t have.”
He looked into her eyes as if gauging the truth in them, which confused her until his eyes crinkled with something like pride.
He caught her hand and gave her the seedpod. “What they don’t tell you in the Company is to talk to the native peoples. I don’t know why they don’t—it’s the best way to find the medicinals.
“Once, I was in a village off the Rio Cupijó—that’s in Brazil—and I saw the tribal women shaving the bark of a tree and steeping it in hot water. They used that for their digestive troubles, so I sketched the tree and leaves, took myself cuttings and seeds, and sent it back to the company with that note. The tribal women had no fear of me and seemed to want to share all their skills.” He winked at her. “I think they thought me some sort of novelty. Like a talking ape.”
“I doubt that very much.” She studied him, bemused that Mr. Mayhew, a plant collector, wasn’t a botanist and yet… “I think you must have been very good at your work.”
He shrugged, but his smile grew. “The Company never complained.” Something sobering flickered across his face. “They said they couldn’t pay me what a real botanist might earn, one that read science and botany at university. But they said any new ornamentals I found, I could keep.”
“Like your slipper orchid?”
His grin returned. “My Wilhelmina orchid.”
“That flower bought you a home.”
“Bought me the land, anyway, didn’t it? The best beauty I ever found. Spent the last farthing on the land, which I found wasn’t the best thinking.”
“No?”
“I should’ve kept a bit aside, for all the repairs and setting up that’s needed.”
“I see,” she said. Land would be terribly expensive to maintain, and it seemed Mr. Mayhew had not set aside a reserve of funds to do so.
His face was flushed, his gaze aimed over her head. “But I told you of those other orchids and ornamentals. They arrived in London just when I was to sail. I don’t know if those plants survived the crossing, but my mates, the Skinner boys, will do all they can. I won’t know for months if those seeds were viable.”
The prospect was full of risk. As kind as he was, she could never marry a man like him. It was not in her nature to bear uncertainty. Though an explorer would always risk, and do so with ease. Except…looking at Mr. Mayhew now as he spoke so quietly, she somehow doubted he was easy with such a chance future himself.
She handed him back his seedpod and smiled. “You’ll sell all your other flowers, too. And set up your land and cottage, and marry and have your children.”
“You think so?”
He looked at her so long she had to drop her eyes. And yet, she answered truthfully when she said, “I do.”
He chuckled. “Do you want to know how I found most of the flowers?”
“How?”
“Climbing. The treetops and cliffs. I wasn’t ever afraid of any height, and climbing’s how you find all the treasures. That’s where you find the plants that don’t mind the variability of English weather. Hardy little flowers. Clinging in places you don’t think a plant would dream of taking root. A flash of scarlet in a meadow is already known to the world. Only one simple as me would crawl up the ledge of a cliff so narrow he’d have to do it on all fours. Stopping every foot or so, praying that vertigo you only get when you’re staring down four hundred feet of granite will pass.”
Her heart pounded at the thought. She clutched his arm. “You mustn’t ever do such a thing. Not ever again.”
He looked at her hand on his sleeve. The last time she’d touched him, he’d kissed her. She slipped her hand away.
“I’ve been talking about myself all this time, Minnie. And I know that’s not a topic of any lasting interest.”
“I like your stories. Most men don’t talk to me as you do. They don’t know what to say to me, or I to them.”
“Why not?” His eyes followed the arc of her headdress. The silk flowers and vines dangled from her temples and ended in glass beads, which, to her alarm, he captured between his fingers.
“I…I don’t know,” she breathed. “I think I’m too serious.”
He moved closer, his eyes sweeping her face. “You’re not too anything. You’re just right,” he murmured. His finger played with her hair ornament. “What’s this little sprig of ribbons called, Minnie?”
That crooked smile…it might have been a harpoon in her heart. Trying to ignore the radiating warmth of his hand, she shrugged. “It’s just a bit of decoration. To match my dress.”
His eyes locked on hers. “You’re all the beauty a man can take and you go and add a frame like this.” His voice deepened, the words thrumming beneath her skin. “Not even Shakespeare could describe how you look tonight.”
Oh dear… She should move. She should breathe.
His finger touched her cheek for a moment, and he released her gaze to watch where he touched her. Instantly, his gaze sharpened and his hand dropped from her. He straightened from her and only then did she realize how close he’d been standing.
Had anyone seen? Emma was in conversation, and no one seemed to pay the least bit of attention. She cleared her throat. What had they been talking about? “You are always full of compliments, Mr. Mayhew—”
“Why don’t you call me Seth?”
She had to smile at that. “Why don’t you call me Mina?”
“Everyone calls you Mina.”
He was incorrigible. “You are a terrible flirt.”
“I never flirted with you, Minnie.”
She covered her lips, but a laugh escaped. “A flirt would say that.”
His eyes narrowed, studying her. “I don’t flirt with you, Minnie. I never have. I can’t say you ever flirted with me, either.”
Her smile vanished and she tore free of his intense gaze to check her ear baubles, smooth her skirt—anything to derail his attention. “I’m told I must engage the men with conversation, but I don’t know how. Do you have any suggestions?”
He shrugged, looking irritated by the question. “With these gents?” He propped his hands on his hips to survey the room. “Men like to feel useful. Just ask them for advice you don’t need.”
“That’s not what I was told.”
“See—that’s wrong, what you just did.” He grinned. “What did the venture girls tell you to do, to lure a man?”
Lure a man… How had she come to this? She breathed deep. “They said I ought to touch the gentleman on his arm—which I did not mean to do to you, though I realize I just did. Truly it was not meant to…”
“Seduce me?”
“Yes. I mean, no. Not meant to.”
He frowned. “I know it,” he grumbled. “What else?”
“They said I should walk to display my”—figure—“my dress.”
His eyes crinkled with mirth. “Your dress, is it?” He dipped his head to speak close. “Shall I tell you what draws a man’s eye, Minnie?”
His deep voice sent tremors down the back of her neck, so she nodded quickly.
“Happiness. You’re already easy to look on, but a happy woman is easy to be with. Makes the man think you’ll forgive him for all the mistakes he’s sure to make.”
She bit her lip against a smile. Which made Mr. Mayhew’s gaze drop to her mouth and go still.
“Do you care to know what holds my eye in particular?” he murmured.
“Not happiness?”
Odd how Mr. Mayhew could somehow seem so shy. He looked at her as if deciding whether or not to tell her. “I don’t know what to call it, but I know it when I see it. My mum had it. She’d been left with two babies and nothing else—but Lucifer himself couldn’t have led her on any path but the one that saw us warm and fed.
“Some might say that was just a woman being practical, but it was more. It was defending who you love, no matter what was testing you. A woman like that…” He smiled sheepishly. Shy again, but proud, too. “Who wouldn’t love a woman like that?”
“She was formidable,” she said.
“Damn me,” he said quietly, as if realizing something. “She was. She was mighty.” His eyes roamed her face. “She was like you.”
Her lips parted to scoff, but she caught herself at the look on his face. To imagine her brave or mighty was astonishingly mistaken. “I’m not at all.”
She feigned interest in the ballroom, but when she turned back around, Mr. Mayhew’s eyes still watched her. She clasped her hands, rather than crossing her arms and shrinking into herself. Men did not look at her like that, and when Mr. Mayhew did…she actually didn’t mind at all.
But she rather felt like she might need to drop to all fours to keep her balance.
His warm hand came to rest on the small of her back. “Why don’t you go on now?” he said gently. “I wager that Captain Ravenshaw and Mr. Block are counting the seconds till they can know your name.”
The strangest pain shot through her heart. This was impossible. He was impossible.
With a final look at his sea-green eyes, she turned for the deep waters of Bombay Society.
* * *
There was nothing worse than seeing a woman you wanted for yourself walk toward another man.
A long spiral of hair had slipped from her pins and bounced behind her ear. He wanted to catch it, comb his fingers into all that brown silk, and hold her just so. Just at that perfect angle to kiss those warm, full lips again and watch those brown eyes melt and close. Then she’d go soft in his arms so he could kiss her in earnest. Kiss her the best way he knew how.
He rubbed the seedpod in his hand, needing something other than her to look at. It didn’t help that his roger had been stiffening in his pants all the while he was near her. Damn if she didn’t have a body to match that gorgeous face of hers. But there’d be no more kissing or touching her.
She was meant for a Company man.
“Mina is in fine looks tonight.”
Seth started at Tom’s voice, and turned to find him holding out a glass of wine. “You’re a damn puzzle, Tom, you know that?”
“Still in a pleasant mood, I see.” Tom drained his wine and started on the glass Seth refused. “When do you plan to forgive me? It’s been two days.”
“I know it.”
“I told you why I can’t marry her. Several times now, in fact.”
He shook his head and grumbled, “You could have married her. You earn a good living. You’ve got some sense. You’re not out gambling or catching diseases or keeping a harem of women like some maharaja.”
Tom brooded into the distance. “I shouldn’t expect you to understand. Hell, Mayhew, no man’s going to be right enough for her, is he?”
Christ, he was getting turned around—because deep down he did understand Tom not being able to marry, not when he was in love with someone else. “Where’ve you been, anyway?”
“Asking after that Captain Ravenshaw. The Fishing Fleet had his credentials right, but I’ve not found one man that likes him. He sounds like a pompous ass from many accounts.”
“Could be sore feelings, couldn’t it? Envy over his post?”
Tom wiped a weary hand over his face. “Yes, perhaps that’s it. Didn’t know how difficult finding a husband would be.”
“Wouldn’t have been if you’d kept your end of the bargain,” he couldn’t help grumbling.
Tom’s jaw tightened. He set his empty glass down hard and turned on his heel. “I’m going to ask after that Block fellow.”
“Good,” Seth ground out. He wasn’t ready to feel any charity for Tom. Might not be for a long time.
Seth tensed. The lady named Samantha was walking Captain Ravenshaw over to Mina to be introduced. The captain’s red coat was real smart, crossed all over with gold braids and buttons, and his black boots were outfitted with brass spurs. And he had good, curling hair. Styled neat as Prince Albert’s. For a pompous ass, he wasn’t a bad-looking gent—
Wait, where were they going? The man was leading Mina out of the ballroom. That probably wasn’t any of his business.
But it didn’t take half a second to decide to follow anyway.
Mina hadn’t let the captain take her far. They stood at the other end of the crowded hall. Seth edged closer and kept enough of a distance not to be noticed, but he heard them well enough.
“Chesterfield, you say? In the Midlands?” Ravenshaw laughed. “I’ve no idea. Where is that near? And tell me a town a man might know of.”
Seth gritted his teeth. Pompous ass.
“Do you know Clay Cross or Bolsover, Captain Ravenshaw?” Mina asked.
Ravenshaw snickered and shook his head.
“Sheffield, then?”
“Yes, Sheffield, of course,” Ravenshaw said. “So smack in the middle, is it, then?”
“Yes.” Mina said in her soft, calm voice. “In the Midlands.”
Ravenshaw smiled, his eyes lingering on her breasts. “This is a lovely gown, Miss Adams.” He edged closer to her. “And you are lovely in it.”
“I… Thank you.”
“Shall we seek a kala juggah for ourselves?”
“What is that?”
He chuckled. “A useful addition to your vocabulary, I daresay. A kala juggah is a private place, arranged near assembly rooms for, well…privacy and sharing secrets, whatever is desired. And I should like us to be better acquainted.”
“Can we not become better acquainted here?”
“We really can’t.”
Mina clutched the pocket of her skirt. “I should not leave my sister long.”
“Nonsense. A man and a woman cannot hope to know each other without more intimate conversation.” He traced her bare shoulder with a gloved finger and Mina, startled, stepped backward.
That was all Seth could stand. “Excuse me.” Seth didn’t bother to subdue his voice and the ass ducked his head in alarm.
Ravenshaw popped straight back up. His brass spurs jangled as he pivoted, and the hand he propped on his hip sent his scabbard off-kilter. “What is it?” The captain didn’t bother to subdue his voice, either.
Seth bristled at the tone and sized up the man. His hair was slick with pomade and the ends of his mustache were waxed into stiff needles. No, he wouldn’t do at all.
And the bastard shouldn’t have touched her.
An icy anger was flowing through his veins, so Seth turned his back on the stuffed uniform. “Minnie—Miss Adams, I’ve come to collect you.”
She blinked at his offered elbow, which hovered under her chin. “Collect me?”
Would she refuse to leave with him? She might at that, and it’d be damn awkward. Angry as he was, it was a relief when she took his arm.
“Of course, Mr. Mayhew,” she murmured.
Ravenshaw wedged his head between the two of them. “Hold your steam there, man. I was talking to her.”
He turned to growl, but Mina squeezed his arm. “Excuse me, Captain,” she said. “I’m afraid I forgot a previous engagement.”
Ravenshaw frowned, his mustache drooping. “A previous—?”
“Geography lessons, mate,” Seth grumbled, before staring down at Mina, who returned his look with a warning in her own as he led her back to the ballroom.
“Was there an actual reason you came to collect me?” she asked.
“Didn’t like him.”
Mina sighed but said nothing. Good. She was in agreement, then.
She shifted her hold on his arm to walk closer. She didn’t seem to notice she’d done it, and something in that little adjustment stopped the words he was preparing to spout about her wandering off with pompous asses.
Mad as he was, he shouldn’t like that little touch so much. Shouldn’t like that she had to reach a little to place her hand on his arm. Or like knowing he could protect her against men like Ravenshaw—or any man for that matter. For the next three days, at least.
Then she’d have to protect herself.
That thought stretched every one of his nerves. He secured her hand more fully about his arm, pulling her closer. Mina was so small. Her head barely reached his shoulder, and he could lift her with one hand if he had a mind to.
Even her skin was delicate, protected under all her bonnets. Would a man like Ravenshaw be mindful of how easy her skin would burn in India? Or how her rose scent would draw mosquitoes? Or how she had to be handled delicately, even if she was crisp, composed, and orderly-like? Maybe even more so because of it. Mina might have the bearing of an officer, but he knew she liked being reminded she was a woman.
She stopped at the edge of the ballroom. “We need to talk, Mr. Mayhew. Outside would be best.”
Outside? Well…hell. She wasn’t looking at him, and she didn’t appear all that bothered. But then, Mina never looked bothered. That didn’t mean she wasn’t wanting to snap his head off.
They maneuvered through the crowded room onto the terrace, but the company here was as lively as the one inside. And that was no wonder, with the view. The stars shone and the ocean glinted under a full moon.
“Pretty night, isn’t—” But there wasn’t any air left to finish his words. By moonlight, Mina’s skin gleamed like pearl, and her brown eyes were soft and liquid. They’d melted like that when they’d kissed.
Christ, she was a beauty. She’d be the perfect wife for any of these men—You have the sign.
He was jostled from behind. Damn, they were never alone, ever.
“Mr. Mayhew, you cannot—”
“Not here,” he said hoarsely. And, before she could question him, he gripped her hand and led her past all the milling couples and down into the garden. In the corner of the landscape, a grove of banyan trees, with their low canopy, smothered the lamplight. Like a dark forest or a…a kala juggah.
Like a damn good idea.
“Mr. Mayhew—”
“Seth.”
“Where are we going?”
A couple sauntered by, but they were the only ones to pass. He and Mina would finally be alone. And he’d look into her eyes again. Maybe for the last time.
“I mustn’t go far,” she said.
Mina’s hand flexed in his—he must have squeezed it. He relaxed his grip and Mina stumbled, holding him tight now to keep her balance. Her head was down, watching the ground as she nearly ran beside him to stay abreast.
Christ. He slowed his step. “Minnie—sorry. I’m sorry.”
Her pretty headdress slipped, and with her free hand, she fumbled with a pin to secure it. She glanced sharply behind her. “I shouldn’t be this far from the others.”
A strange ache cramped his chest. He stopped and breathed deep. God, what was he doing? She couldn’t do this, couldn’t be seen with him like this.
“Are you listening to me, Mr. Mayhew?”
She never called him Seth. Not even now. Because Mina was sensible and kept her thoughts in a straight line. And she could turn all that common sense and straight thinking on him like the swing of an axe.
Or just the shutting of a door.
Mina wouldn’t be led astray, not from the path of knowing what she had to do. It was damn stupid of him to take her from company, to want her alone, to…to panic seeing her with another man.
But he’d never been one to think in straight lines.
Even now, words and feelings and pictures of home and Mina, and Tom, and Georgie swelled and crashed like waves in his head, and he couldn’t hold one still. They tumbled over each other and rolled away again.
“I’m listening. I’m sorry, Minnie.” He stood still, the two of them exposed in the middle of the garden. “Go on and say what you were wanting to say.” He squared his shoulders. “But the captain wasn’t right for you, laughing at where we’re from. Like he comes from better. And he wasn’t respectful, with that talk of intimate conversation. And what was he wearing spurs for anyway?”
Mina’s upturned face was beautiful and composed. As usual.
He would drive a woman like her to Bedlam. He’d forever be saying and doing the wrong thing, being out of pocket, embarrassing her. She deserved a man she didn’t have to manage and apologize for. And Mina would’ve known that the instant they met.
The shame of that cooled his temper better than a dousing of ice water.
“This isn’t proper, Mr. Mayhew.” She pulled her hand from his and he had to let her loose. But she curled her hand around his elbow, like a lady.
“I know it. So ye can give me your tidy doing off”—he cringed at his ignorant speech—“I mean, you can scold me here. If you’re of a mind to.”
But Mina didn’t say anything. And she suddenly looked different. Still like the little officer she was but…harder.
“There’s some sort of summerhouse over there,” she said.
Within the cluster of trees, a faint structure took shape in the shadows. A walled gazebo, remote and secret. “I see it.”
“Is that where you planned to lead me?”
Miserable, he nodded. But Mina dropped her hand from his arm and marched toward the trees.
“Minnie?” Now what? He started after her, ducking a little like that would help his oversize carcass not be seen. “Minnie?”
She kept walking.
“Minnie, no,” he hissed. “It’s not respectable.”
“You had no fear of ruining my reputation pulling me across the lawn.”
“But—”
“And you are hardly a rogue, Mr. Mayhew, much as you would like to pretend.”
Was that supposed to be some kind of compliment?
“And it appears I need to make something clear to you, so while no one is looking, please put on some haste.” She walked faster and disappeared into the summerhouse.
Well…hell. He scanned the lawn behind him—she was right; nobody seemed to be watching—and ran to duck in after her.
The room was a small octagon, the walls patched with panes of colored glass and pierced with carved openings that streamed the garden light into the dim room in delicate shapes and jeweled shards. She faced him with her shoulders back and chin high. Little diamonds of emerald and gold light played on the mounds of her breasts, which he was trying hard not to look at—and failing.
This wasn’t romantic. It wasn’t.
“Mr. Mayhew, I appreciate your wanting to help me, but you mustn’t interfere again.”
Mr. Mayhew. Like she didn’t even know him. “You didn’t like that Ravenshaw, either.”
“That is not the point. I must marry.”
“I know it. But you don’t have to marry the first gent that offers. You can choose. That one wasn’t even soldierlike or a gentleman. And what about liking the look of the man? Are you even partial to dark hair? Or side-whiskers?”
“His appearance is of no importance.”
“You can’t want to marry an ugly man.”
“Not every man is handsome.”
“I want you feeling something for your husband, Minnie.”
She threw her hands up and huffed an odd, squeaky sound, and he stared in surprise. He didn’t know she did that. But if that was all the vexation he caused, maybe that wasn’t so bad, was it?
Her hands dropped back to her sides, but they were clenched into fists and her eyes were closed. “I know you are trying to help,” she said. “But love is not my concern.”
His heart sank. She sounded like she meant that.
“You must devote your attention to helping Georgiana. She needs you.”
“And you’re saying you don’t.”
She opened her eyes, and looked at him without a word.
No, she didn’t need him. And she was right not to, but knowing she was right didn’t make it hurt any less. He rubbed his eyes, careful to catch the wetness there. “You think that Captain will do? Or that Henry Block?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know if I will do for him. But that is my task—not yours or Thomas’s, or even my friends, with all their lists and rankings.”
“There’s a ranking?”
“I am the one on offer here, not them. That ballroom is my marketplace—”
“Minnie—”
“—so please let’s not pretend I have any real choice in the matter. Unless you wish to add to my humiliation.”
Christ. He caught her hand. She pulled at his hold but he couldn’t let her go. “Minnie—”
“We should return.”
“Wait.” What the hell could he say? He probably had something in his book. If he could just keep her a minute more, he might help—
She stayed his hand from opening his notebook. “There is no Shakespeare here. Not in this. And nothing at all that poetry would serve.”
He stared at her hand, too embarrassed to meet her eye. He wasn’t smart enough even to use his own words. “I just thought…”
“I know.”
She moved closer, and even in the dark, he could see the soft brown of her eyes.
“I know,” she whispered. “Thank you. No matter whom I choose, he will not be as kind and compassionate as you.” She smiled a little. “Or as handsome, sadly.”
Christ, she was such a lady. Saying things like that to him, like no one ever had. And she was brave and beautiful and smelling of roses and sunshine. Like England. Like home.
“Minnie, won’t you even try to leave India?”
Her lids lowered and his heart cracked in two. There wasn’t anything he could say to persuade her. No way to rescue her.
And then she rose on her toes, her sweet weight leaning against him. Soft lips pressed against his cheek, and his body tightened and fought against every emotion that kiss stirred.
“Please, Minnie…” He didn’t recognize the hoarse rasp of his voice, or have any control over his hands sliding around her slender waist and holding her against him. He wouldn’t rest his cheek on her fancy headdress, so he bent lower to nestle against her neck.
And her lips were at his ear, whispering, “The minute I saw you, I wanted to choose you.”
He clenched his eyes tight and wrote those words into his heart. He’d write them in his book and read them again and again. He hugged her tight and she hugged him back. Only her round breasts resisted his body sealing against hers but, ah, Christ, that was fine. The valley of her slim back and the swell of her backside fit the palms of his hands as if he’d sculpted her body himself.
“God, Minnie…” He moved to kiss her. And she stopped him with a hand over his lips.
He clenched his eyes against the pain in his chest. Christ, it hurt. She wouldn’t let him, and he wanted to feel that again—the way their first kiss was a surprise, and then it wasn’t. Because he knew, he knew, she was going to be special. But she didn’t want him, didn’t want his kiss—
Her hand slid from his mouth and touched his eyelids. And then she pulled him the rest of the way down. And the instant their lips met, he was whole again.
And it wasn’t a surprise at all.
There wasn’t a kiss in his life he would ever count as more natural or tender. Mina’s body was made to be loved by his. And he’d be gentle. He’d never be anything but gentle with a lady as precious as this.
His tongue coaxed the seal of her lips apart and with a groan, he plundered the sweetness there until his body began to quake and demand more. He tore his mouth away and gasped for air. “God, Minnie. I was the first to kiss you, wasn’t I?”
She pulled at his neck, straining for his lips. “The first.”
With a groan, he sealed his lips to hers again. He’d wanted to hold her like this the moment he saw her, the very moment they met—You have the sign.
No, he didn’t believe in fate. Fate wasn’t—Christ…the way she kissed him, the way she held him—
Or was it opportunity? On such a full sea we are now afloat—
Did he sail this current? If he didn’t… What if he didn’t? Without Mina, would his life be stuck in the shallows? In misery?
Could he do this? He forced his eyes open. Mina clung to him. Her sweet, lush body was a fire threatening to burn every thought in his brain to ash. He wasn’t ready, but would she trust him? Would she have him?
The possibility slammed into him and his head reared back, breaking their kiss.
Mina’s eyes were unfocused, soft with desire, and that look set the flames roaring into the sky. His whole body was swollen with wanting, his roger strained against his trousers, but he had to think.
“Minnie?” He waited for her eyes to focus. “Could you have me?”
Her breath didn’t follow any sort of rhythm and her brows knit in confusion. “Have you?”
He swallowed against the damnably thick lump in his throat. “Yes.” His heart was pounding and he was suddenly afraid of her next words. But his little officer wouldn’t ever shy from anything.
“I don’t understand,” she said. “Have you… To marry? Did you ask me to marry you?”
That lump wasn’t going anywhere. But Mina did talk plain; he knew that. He’d talk plain, too.
“Yes. The second thing, the marrying.” His voice was a stupid croak, and he cleared his throat roughly. “I’ll work. Every day, I’ll be up with the lark. And I’d work hard to take care of you and we’d be together; we’d be home—I’d give you my home. I don’t have much, but I might, once I meet with the Skinners, and I promise, I’d never leave you or our children. I never would. I’d never want to. I’d always be with you—which may not be all that appealing, now that I’m hearing it—but I’m saying I’ll be faithful. I’d never go loose on you.”
She stared at him. And his heart stopped when tears welled in her brown eyes.
“You should put me down,” she said.
Down? Her eyes were level with his. And he was standing upright. He had to look to know he’d picked her up to kiss her. Carefully, he set her down but couldn’t bring himself to let her go. “Minnie, if you’re to be had, I’ll have you.” Why wasn’t she saying anything? “Will you have me?”
She backed away as far as the little room allowed, till her back was at the wall. “I wish it had been you.”
His heart stilled in his chest, and it made every word she spoke too loud and too clear.
“I wish it had been you—really you—holding my sign on the dock that day.” She shook her head. “You were the most beautiful man I’d ever seen, and the kindest, and you make me feel pretty like I’ve never—”
“You’re beautiful.”
“But you’re not ready.”
“I—”
“And you’re not safe.”
The breath rushed out of him. Safe? Mina didn’t trust him. He couldn’t push a word past his lips if his life depended on it.
“You have no employment. Your search for Georgiana may take weeks, or months, or longer. And it will be perilous and…you will return to England, and I cannot leave Emma, even if she marries, I will never leave her.”
“But I—”
“I can’t. I feel too much with you, and I must keep my wits and reason about me.”
He struggled to keep his voice even, but failed. “Maybe you love me, then?”
“Love doesn’t matter.”
A tear raced down her cheek and he started for her. If he could just hold her… He couldn’t say the right words, but if he could touch her…
But her arms held him away. “No. You don’t even know me. You called me brave.”
“Minnie—”
“You don’t know me at all.” She shook her head. “If you did, you’d know I could never marry a man like you.”
And before Seth could say another word, Mina pushed past him and out the door.