Resting her parasol on her shoulder, Sarah smiled widely at those who passed them by as they meandered around Hyde Park. She received a few smiles in return and one scowl from a man in a too-thin overcoat with red cheeks and wet eyes. No doubt the cold was affecting him, and she refused to take his response as anything other than that. It was too beautiful a day to think anything other.
The path fairly teemed with people, out to enjoy the sunshine this late March day had chosen to display. Though it still bitingly cold, spring crept over London and went a ways to warming a woman as she took a turn around Hyde Park, and Arthur took care of the rest.
Curling her hand around his arm, she pressed closer against him. At her action, he looked down at her, the corner of his mouth lifting. She knew what that meant now. She knew he was highly amused, and, though he returned his gaze again to negotiating the path before them, she knew he was as aware of her as she was of him.
In the month and a half since she had first engaged his services, so much had changed. Winter had bled into spring, and her opinion of Arthur Davenport had undergone a dramatic reversal. These walks about the park were now a thrice-weekly occurrence, begun when he’d mentioned how he longed for the hills and dales of Clemmens-Upon-Avon, how he missed frolicking amongst the greenery with the children of his youth.
She grinned. Well, perhaps she had rewritten his words and colored them with more longing than the passing thought he’d no doubt intended, but when it meant she could spend time with him away from his law chambers, and he didn’t argue, where was the harm?
“Sarah, how many times are we to walk this park?”
She roused herself from her musing with a fairly intelligent, “Hmm?”
Chestnut brows drew over brilliant hazel eyes. She’d not before thought hazel to be a brilliant kind of color, but on him, it could be nothing else. “How many times are we to walk this path? My feet are close to resembling blocks of ice.”
He was also a singularly unromantic soul. “Can you not enjoy this beautiful day?”
He looked about them, then back at her. “I should enjoy it more if my feet weren’t subject to frostbite.”
She sighed. “Once more? It’s such a lovely day, and we’ve not seen many.”
“Once more.” He fell silent a moment. “It’s only I have work I should be doing.”
“I know.”
“And we should talk of your case. I’ve had another letter from Wetherall.”
The joy she’d taken in the day soured. “Have you?”
“He seems to believe if he inundates Lord Beecham’s chambers in letters proclaiming himself correct, then it shall come to pass. It’s like the man who believes if he talks the loudest he is the most correct.”
She didn’t respond.
He stopped. “Sarah?”
A kind of churn began in her and she focused on her hand on his arm. She felt his gaze upon her.
“Does this not concern you?” he asked.
“It does. Of course, it does. It’s only…. Our walks are one of the few times I do not think of my troubles for less than five minutes together. I had hoped….” She tried for a smile, but the shape of it felt too tremulous to truly be termed such. Damnation, she hated uncertainty. “I wanted to enjoy the sunshine is all.”
For a long moment he held her gaze, and then he broke it to stare straight ahead. Before, it would have annoyed her, him looking from her, the lack of response. Now, though, she could see him weighing his options, deciding the best course. How was it she’d come to know him so well so quickly?
Gaze still ahead, he said quietly, “I do not wish for you to hurt. ’Tis better to get this thing done.”
A familiar warmth filled her, one he caused with increasing frequency. “Arthur.” A gentle pressure on his arm bade him stop. “This time with you does more for me than anything else. Let us enjoy the sunshine and talk of this later.”
He was silent for the longest time. Then, curtly, he nodded.
They walked in silence. She was unsure what to make of him. She could read some of his expressions, but not all and his response had been…confusing. “You realize you can speak more than three words.”
He turned a frown upon her. “What?”
She swallowed the ire that rose to the fore. When had anger ever brought her clarity with him? “We could perhaps have a whole conversation.”
“Oh. Yes.”
Clearly, his mind was elsewhere. “Or instead we could show…affection.”
“What?” This time, his question held a completely different tone.
“We could show affection. Toward each other.” Raising her brows, she grinned cheekily. “In Hyde Park.”
“We are not alone.”
A flirty grin tugged at her. “That’s what makes it so fun.”
Gaze leveled upon her, he did not reply.
Uncertainty crept over her. Damnation, where were his tells now? She had no clue what he was thinking. He could be amenable, or he could be thinking her the silliest flirt in all the Empire.
Grip tightening on her parasol, she broke their gaze.
An awkward silence rose between them. Around them, people passed, merrily conversing, laughing.
“Why are you quiet?”
She glanced at him. His brows had drawn slightly, as if quizzical. Perhaps he was. She just didn’t know. Annoyance, old and familiar, rose.
His brows drew further. “Sarah?”
She exhaled. Lord, this was how it always started. She knew him better now. She was better now. They were grown adult humans, and she would not presume.
She pushed ire aside. “Stop here with me.”
“Why?”
She concealed a smile at the wariness of his tone. This she could read. “Because I want to.”
Clearly suspicious, he stopped. Because she wanted him to.
A little bubble of joy rioted inside her. “See the hedge?”
“Of course I see it.”
With a grin, she tugged him behind the waist-high thicket. “Do you know why I brought a parasol?”
He lifted a brow. “Because you wished to shield your skin from the nonexistent sun?”
“There’s sun. The clouds are just covering it at this particular moment in time. But that isn’t the only reason I brought it.”
He didn’t reply, but the corner of his mouth lifted.
Curling her fingers in his lapel, she lowered the parasol until they were concealed. Drawing him close, she murmured against his lips, “Do you know what I’m going to do next?”
She felt his mouth curve. “I have an idea,” he said, and she stole the sound of his husky words with her kiss.
He tasted like he always did, of smoke and Arthur and the mints he liked to chew. He made her feel so much, powerful and weak all at the same time, that she could make him break with just a whisper of her lips if she could but find the right combination, but she knew he could just as easily make her break. His hand curled around her neck was warm, comforting, and she wanted that touch on her shoulder, her chest, her breasts. She wanted him, and all while hidden behind a flimsy parasol in the middle of Hyde Park.
Pulling back, she trailed kisses along his jaw before resting her head on his shoulder.
“I like your use of a parasol,” he said.
She smiled against the fabric of his coat. “Many do.”
“Do they?”
Surprised at his tone, she looked up and had no need to decipher a tell. Despite the coldness of his words, anger burned in his eyes. “It’s a trick I learned at finishing school. Many girls spoke of its power.”
He stared down at her for a moment, another, and then he closed his eyes. “I am sorry. I’m a fool.”
Wholly confused, she said, “Why?”
“I…I did not think your words through before I….” His face bled of expression. “My pardon, Sarah. I thought ill of you without basis. I have no excuse.”
He thought she had…he believed…. She burst out laughing. At the expression of outright shock on his face, she could only laugh harder.
“I was unaware my words were amusing,” he said stiffly.
“Oh. Oh, Arthur. It’s only—” She dissolved into giggles once more. Recovering somewhat, she cupped his cheek. “You silly man. I’ve kissed exactly two men in my life.”
His brows shot up. “What? But you’re…you. You’re Sarah. What are they all, blind?”
“Oh, Arthur.” Gently, she brushed his lips with hers. “Now,” she said, leaning back. “Take me for a turn around the park and stop all these distractions.”
Again, his lips quirked. His tell. “Of course. My apologies.” He held out his arm.
As she took it, as they walked about the park, the day suddenly seemed a lot brighter.