Chapter 6 #2
Many men had frowned at her over the years; men who had disapproved of her hobbies or thought her pitiable because of her disability.
“You—you know.” She couldn’t bear to draw attention to her foot, so she lifted her chin. “Someone with a limp.”
Understanding flickered in his eyes, his expression twisting into a dismissive scowl. “Barbara, I work with a man who is missing a foot, and another who cannae see from one eye. Yer body’s limitations dinnae limit yer opportunities.”
“They do if one is a female,” she said simply.
And his scowl deepened. “Yer mind is brilliant, and that isnae related to how ye were born—”
“I told you that I was not born this way.” It was her turn to interrupt him, so with a rueful twist of her lips, she continued.
“When I was nine years old, I was visiting the remains of the Roman wall with my father. I went climbing about, pretending I was a Roman centurion repelling the barbarians, having a grand time…and I fell. My foot was wedged between two boulders, breaking quite a few bones.”
It was only now, well over a decade later, that she could speak of it so dispassionately.
Of course she remembered the pain, the months of healing, the constant ache as she learned to walk again.
The ache that, when she was tired, returned.
But she didn’t have to dwell on it; she had her books, her antiquities…
and soon, she’d have her memories of Kenneth.
Who looked completely stricken.
His hat hit the ground as he reached for her other hand. “Love, I’m so sorry. How horrible, that ye had to endure that at such a young age.” As she shrugged, he squeezed, his brown eyes full of compassion. “I ken there’s nothing to be done now, but please allow me to grieve for yer pain.”
It was…it was the perfect response. Barbara found herself tearing up, and her voice was raspy when she said, “It was a long time ago.”
“Aye,” he said gently, pulling her closer, “but that doesnae mean we cannae mourn it. I’m sorry that happened to ye, love, and I am grateful ye have told me.”
“I am grateful you have given me the opportunity to have these adventures with you,” she sniffed. “To put my knowledge to good use? It makes me feel valid. Validated. My body may be broken, but my mind—”
“Yer body is perfect—ye are perfect.” He crushed her to him, wrapping his arms around her, his lips finding hers.
She surged upward, meeting him with desperation and hope and fear and everything jumbled inside her for the last few weeks.
This kiss was over far too soon, with Kenneth being the one to press his forehead to hers, his breathing harsh. They stood like that for a long moment and Barbara took strength from him.
Finally he brushed a kiss over her nose and straightened. “And my superiors agree with our conclusions, ye ken. We’re dealing with an antiquities forgery ring here, and the misfortunes our marks are experiencing are no’ a coincidence.”
Barbara glanced about to make certain they were alone. “The question is, are the misfortunes what cause the forgers to target them, or are they a result? What came first?”
When his smile bloomed, his dimple was on full display. “I said ye were brilliant, aye? I have to report this afternoon, after our visit to Woodcock, and I’ll let ye ken what the rest of the team says.”
“How?” Her brow twitched teasingly. “I know you are not yet invited for dinner. My mother remarked that three times already this week was quite enough, even for…for an ardent suitor.”
Something wicked gleamed in his eyes as he winked, then bent down to kiss her once more. “Leave yer bedchamber window unlocked, love, and I’ll find a way to report to ye,” he whispered against her lips, so lightly she wasn’t certain she’d heard it.
Before she could ask, she heard her father’s steps on the stairs. By the time he appeared, Kenneth was standing a respectable distance away, straightening his hat, and Barbara had schooled her expression into one of mild curiosity.
Not that they needed to have bothered; Papa was buried behind a newspaper, muttering to himself. She and Kenneth could have been making passionate love there on the tiled floor and he wouldn’t have noticed until he tripped over them.
The thought of making love to Kenneth—and the wicked promise he’d just made her—made her warm all over.
Leave yer bedchamber window unlocked.
Barbara had no idea what he intended, but she trusted him. She would absolutely be leaving her window unlocked, and knew she would spend the next eight hours in a heightened state of arousal.
It seemed that Papa finally noticed them. “Oh, right. Good morning.”
“Afternoon, Papa,” Barbara murmured.
“Good afternoon, milord.” Kenneth gave a respectful bow, which Papa completely missed. “The news is particularly engrossing today, is it?”
Papa made a noise which might have been agreement, might have been a chicken bone stuck in his throat, as he waved the paper about with one hand and reached for his hat with the other. “Damn fool lads, getting up to damn fool antics.”
“Oh?” Kenneth asked politely as he fetched Papa’s coat and held it open. Barbara liked how he had settled into the informality of their household. “Anyone I ken?”
Papa peered at him over the top of his spectacles. “I sincerely hope not, young man. It says here”—he smacked the paper against his thigh as he slid the other arm into the coat sleeve—”some theater owner swam naked in the Serpentine in the view of half the young ladies of the Ton.”
Kenneth’s expression lit. “Really? Remington Ives? Was the Rake Review printed in the gossip columns this month?”
Not terribly surprised he knew the reprobate in question, Barbara watched him take the paper as Papa buttoned himself, his eyes skimming over the newsprint.
“So you do know him?” she asked dryly.
“Just a friend—a little wager at the Standish Ball,” he murmured dismissively.
“But this isnae the Rake Review scandal sheet, so it likely doesnae count.” His shrug looked a little disappointed as he folded the newspaper and slid it under his arm before offering her his other arm.
“Shall we go call on Sir Horatio Woodcock?”
“Yes, yes, lad!” Papa led the way out the door to wave to the waiting carriage. “I know how eager you are to learn about antiquities.”
As they followed, Barbara was struck with a sudden, small wave of disappointment.
Kenneth was only doing this, only spending this time with her and her family, because of his case.
What would it be like for him to want to learn about steles and ushabtis and canopic jars with her?
What would it be like to share her passions with someone like him?
No use bemoaning what might have been.
Right. There might not be a future for them, but for now, Sir Kenneth Fraser was eager to spend time with her, and she would luxuriate in that knowledge. And while she could, she would learn everything she could from him about the art of pleasure.
Leave yer bedchamber window unlocked.
Oh yes, indeed.