Relief swept through Steven when he and Miss Faulkner left Nigel behind at the hotel later. He’d been trying to find a reason to rid himself of his brother the entire morning – to get Miss Faulkner alone somehow. Thankfully, Nigel had blundered in his dismissal of Miss Faulkner’s kite flying suggestion.
Had he and his brother been closer, had Nigel been Edward, Steven would simply have asked him to leave. But Nigel was different. He always came with ulterior motives and would never walk away willingly, unless he was made to believe he did so of his own volition.
“What prompted you to mention kites?” he asked Miss Faulkner while they drove the short distance to the toy shop.
“You said flying kites with your grandfather was one of your fondest memories. Since I’ve never tried flying a kite myself, I thought you might show me, much like I showed you how to skip stones.”
“Thank you, Miss Faulkner.”
She tilted her head. “For what?”
He couldn’t quite stop his lips from quirking. “For not murdering my brother.”
Shock widened her eyes. “I would never even consider—”
“He seems all right at first, but I think you’ll agree with me when I say he can be intolerable at times.”
She flattened her lips and huffed a breath. Gradually, her features relaxed and when she spoke, her voice was softer than it had been all day. “He accused me of being a social climbing fortune huntress, then suggested I could only be interested in you because of your wealth. It was offensive and…and frankly I cannot believe he would speak so freely with a woman he’s only just met.”
Anger prompted Steven to curl his fingers inward until his hands tightened into fists. He was equally offended, mostly on Miss Faulkner’s behalf. How dare Nigel accuse her so? “Is that why you told him of your plan to wed Mr. Thorkilson?”
“Yes. I’m sorry. I realize it upset you though I’m not sure why it would. After all, it’s nothing you don’t know already.”
“No, but that doesn’t make the notion less unappealing.” The carriage stopped, preventing him from elaborating on that point any further. Judging by Miss Faulkner’s curious expression, however, she dearly wished he would have. “Give me a minute. I’ll be right back.”
He returned with a red silk kite five minutes later and set it on the bench beside him. Seated across from Miss Faulkner, he met her gaze. She said nothing, but he sensed a quiet understanding between them. Even so, it was important to him that he clarify his position, even if she did not share his interest.
But if she did, perhaps knowing where he stood and how he felt would make her own choices simpler?
“Will you permit me to call you Calista?” he carefully asked, venturing out into deeper waters.
When she nodded, it felt like a vice was removed from his chest and he could breathe freely again. Encouraged, he leaned forward and held out his hand. It seemed like forever before she placed her palm in his, allowing him to close his fingers around hers.
He took a steadying breath. “I like you a great deal, Calista. Indeed, I more than like you. I…I find it hard to express the depth of my regard. It may seem strange, given our brief acquaintance, but when we’re together it feels so incredibly right that the thought of your leaving physically pains me.”
Words – conveying emotion – had never been his strong suit. Practicality, business, and finance ruled his mind and guided his actions, so the overwhelming need he experienced when he was with Calista – a need for more than bed sport alone – was unfamiliar, frightening, and challenging.
“I wish I didn’t have to go,” she admitted. “If it were up to me I would stay and see where our friendship takes us. But I have a duty I must fulfill and I have been gone too long already. Lord knows, I might return to discover that Thorkilson has returned to New York, learned of my absence, and ruined my father.” Pain stared back at him with such force he wished he could take it from her and carry it as his own. “Please know that I will always remember you with the greatest fondness.”
Chest tight, Steven held her gaze and prayed she would close the distance and kiss him. Hoping to offer encouragement, he inched a little bit closer and was pleased to notice she did the same. Her throat worked as if it took effort to bolster her courage, but then her gaze dropped to his lips and the air stilled between them, and Steven knew… He knew she would soon be in his arms and that somehow they’d figure the rest out from there.
Except, the carriage came to a jarring halt, pushing her back onto her seat with a gasp while Steven nearly went sprawling onto the floor. He steadied himself and straightened his posture while cursing his lack of good fortune. Calista’s kiss had been imminent. He’d almost been able to feel her breath on his skin and now it was gone. Wrecked by the stopping of a carriage.
Damn!
He scraped his hand across his jaw and glanced at her, only to be struck unaware by the humor that danced in her eyes. Her lips quirked. “What horrible timing.”
An unhappy chuckle escaped his throat. “I couldn’t agree more.”
“Well, the day isn’t over yet, Mr. Donahue. Perhaps another chance will present itself later.”
She smoothed her skirts while Steven came to grips with the fact that while neither had said the word ‘kiss’ or ‘kissing’, there could be no mistaking her meaning. She wanted this as much as he did and that alone convinced him he was done waiting. She’d given her consent and in so doing, it no longer mattered which of them made the first move. If she did not, then he most certainly would. Before the day was done.