Chapter Fifteen
Absolute, true, and mathematical time, of itself, and from its own nature flows equably without regard to anything external.
—Isaac Newton
Tarik St. Clair’s lips on mine felt like a fever dream. Like two planets colliding in the eternity of space. Like defying gravity.
It started soft, the barest featherlike brush of his mouth against mine as he pressed a kiss to each corner and then to the middle, the plush contours of his lips fitting snugly against mine.
I let out a dreamy sigh as he slanted his head, and suddenly, the tip of his soft, damp tongue flicked over my bottom lip.
I jolted, but my fingers dug into his collar, holding his mouth to mine as I mimicked the motion, tentatively tasting him, too.
Tarik groaned, his mouth opening wider, welcoming my entry.
My tongue swept shyly against his in a sleek, decadent graze.
He tasted sweet, with hints of the cherry brandy he’d sipped in the card room.
He wrapped his arms around me and deepened the kiss, exploring me with a tenderness that made me breathless.
I couldn’t even function, my entire being swept up in the staggering sensation of being consumed by him.
This kiss completely eclipsed the unremarkable one I’d had with Blake.
Not that I should be thinking about another boy while kissing Tarik, but I couldn’t help comparing the two, since I’d only ever done this once before.
Blake’s kiss had been barely tolerable, while Tarik’s was like a comet streaking across the night sky, incinerating everything in its path. Including me.
And all I wanted to do was burn.
His hands gripped my waist, winding into the fabric of my gown as if to anchor us from floating away.
Everything inside me felt like it was on fire as I kissed him back, my lips clinging to his while our mouths entangled in a dance that felt as natural as breathing.
Kissing Tarik felt like everything I’d always imagined it to be…
magical, and I never wanted it to end. I wanted to bask in him in forever.
I didn’t know how long we stood there, locked and lost in each other, but when we finally broke apart, we were both dazed.
Tarik leaned his forehead against mine. “God…that was…”
“Perfect,” I whispered, my lips feeling tender from our fervent efforts. I wondered if his felt the same, and I wished we had more light so I could commit the sight of them to memory.
“We should go,” he murmured, with a soft kiss to each of my cheeks as if he couldn’t stop touching me. “Before those men come back.”
That was a splash of cold water to the face.
Reluctantly, I disentangled my arms from around his neck, immediately missing the warmth and strength of his solid frame.
But when he grabbed my hand and threaded his fingers through mine, the flutters in the pit of my stomach returned.
With his guidance, we retraced our steps quickly and exited at a larger street.
Luckily, we were able to secure a hackney without being seen or chased. Tarik gave the driver my address. I would have to sneak in through the kitchens and hope I didn’t get caught.
Worth it.
My cheeks were hot as I gazed at the boy opposite me, knowing that my lips had just been on his, my fingers in his hair, his hands on my waist. Especially when said boy was staring at me like I was everything he’d ever dreamed of and more.
My chest ached.
“Stop looking at me like that,” I whispered.
“I can’t help it,” he said. “I like looking at you.” A wide smile made his eyes crinkle at the corners. “Because you’re an enigma. A puzzle, and I happen to be very fond of puzzles.”
“How so?”
“You’re delicate,” he began, and I scoffed at that, rolling my gaze skyward before he held a finger up, “but somehow hiding a will of pure steel.”
“Hardly,” I said, blushing.
“How many young ladies would stand up to a group of ruffians in Covent Garden with absolutely no fear? You’re dauntless, and you never do what I expect.
You’re intimidatingly intelligent and can track a deck of cards like the cleverest card sharp.
” He blinked and reached into his pocket.
“Speaking of, here are your spoils of battle.”
“You keep it,” I said, staring at the stuffed purse he held. He wasn’t poor, but his earnings as a tutor wouldn’t be excessive.
“But it belongs to both of us,” he said. “If you don’t want it, then I don’t either.”
I thought for a moment, a brilliant idea occurring to me.
“Then let’s do something amazing with it.
Let’s donate it to an orphanage to be used to buy books for children, including books on mathematics, science, and philosophy for the older ones and adventurous stories for the younger ones.
I think Zia has a connection to the Little Hands orphanage, part of Bellevue Chapel. ”
He handed the purse to me. “Perfect.”
“Are you sure you don’t need it?” I asked.
Tarik shook his head. “It feels right for it to go toward the shaping of young minds. They’re the future.”
He was staring at me again, but now conflicted emotions roamed his face. The whimsical wonder I’d seen before was eclipsed by other things. Likely the same desolate thoughts that were creeping up on the heels of all the good feelings in my own head the closer we got to Mayfair.
We’d both known tonight wouldn’t last forever…
I was certain my sudden despair and melancholy were written all over me, because Tarik frowned. He opened his mouth. “Lady Ros—”
“No,” I blurted out in a breathless whisper, not wanting to hear whatever it was he intended to say, especially if it was regret.
“Please don’t say that what happened between us was a mistake.
I couldn’t bear it if you did because tonight was the most extraordinary thing that has ever happened to me, and I never want to forget it. ”
“Extraordinary?” he asked, though his voice sounded much too forlorn for my liking.
I nodded. “Beyond so. The truth is I don’t want to let you go, Tarik. It feels like walking away from this would be the biggest blunder of our lives.”
His eyes fluttered shut at the sound of his name. He swallowed, so many sentiments crashing and tangling in his expression when those eyes opened. “I’m not who your father would choose for you, Rosalin. I cannot offer you the life you deserve.”
“I don’t care,” I said urgently, leaning forward to grasp his hands. “We will figure it out.”
“You’re a lady, accustomed to all the finer things in life. Diamonds, jewels, fancy balls, carriages, a glorious home. I can’t afford to give you any of those things.”
“I don’t need any of that as long as I have you,” I replied, but I could feel him pulling away with every ragged heartbeat between us.
His voice was soft. “Rosalin, I’m common born. Even if I am wildly successful with my business venture, the fruits of my labor are far away. Years, even.”
“Then we’ll talk to my father, and I will wait as long as it takes. Because I have no doubt you’ll succeed.”
Face tight, he exhaled. “Even if your father agrees, which we both know he won’t, what of your friends in the ton?
Lady Ela? Lady Zia? Your cousin Ansel? Even Lord Blake.
You’ll stop seeing them and going to grand parties and balls because you’ll have given up the life of a lady? I could never make you do that.”
As his words sank in, underscored by his defeated tone as though he’d already given up on the idea of us, I bit my lip so hard I winced.
“Do you think that’s all I want? That I’m so shallow?
In truth, I would live in a hovel if I could look up at the stars every day with the person I cherish most in the world.
” I sucked in a breath as the possibility of us shone like a beacon of hope in my imaginings.
“The promise of more is worth any sacrifice, is it not?”
His fingers squeezed mine, that beautiful face sad and solemn.
“Have you ever gone hungry? So hungry that you drank water just to fill your belly from one day to the next, not knowing how or when your next meal would come? Have you done the one thing you swore you would never do—steal—just to snatch a burned crust of bread to feed your siblings?”
Shocked, I loosened my grasp and recoiled at the insinuation.
That I didn’t know what it meant to suffer hardship.
I might not have experienced it myself, but I wasn’t na?ve.
I knew that there were people in London who were starving—Mama had made sure to educate us on the importance of helping the less fortunate.
Several of her charitable organizations regularly donated food and medicine to the poor, and easing the plight of the less fortunate was one of the reasons I volunteered my help at my local parish.
“What do you mean? Have you?”
“I know people who have, and I’ve seen what it does to them.
” Tarik reached forward and gripped my hands again, despite my reluctance.
“I’m not judging you or saying that you don’t empathize.
I only mean that it’s easy to say you could live without something from the vantage point of never having experienced the loss of it.
Poverty is adversity at its most distressing.
And I would never want anything bad to ever touch you.
” He squeezed, his throat working with emotion as he fought to get the words out.
“No, if you were mine, I would want to give you everything…a life of love and laughter, and especially one without discomfort. You deserve that and more.”
“Is that what you want? For me to be yours?” The feelings flying through me were exhilarated one moment and despondent the next.
It sounded like he wanted to pursue a future with me while trying to convince himself and me that he was not good enough.
I had to make him understand that he was. “Because I want you to be mine.”
One side of his lip curved up into a half smile as he reached out to cup my cheek. “You’re not afraid of anything, are you?”
“Me? I’m terrified of everything,” I sputtered.
“I’m terrified of who I am, of my future and being auctioned off to some poxy peer, of not taking chances…
of what’s happening between us right now…
” I trailed off, the words sticking like honey in my throat.
“And most of all, of never feeling like this ever again. I don’t want to lose you.
” I whispered the last bit, my eyes lifting and colliding with his just as the carriage came to a halt.
“I don’t want to lose you either.”
I turned my face into his palm. “Then don’t.”
“It’s that easy?” he said softly.
“Nothing worth keeping is ever easy. We have to fight for what we want, even when all the odds might be against us.”
He exhaled, staring at me with that same look of wonder. “I’ve never known anyone like you, Rosalin. So full of optimism and hope. Utterly indomitable. I want you to know that no matter what happens, I’ll never forget what you’ve done for me. I owe you and Roz so much.”
My heart, flying so impossibly high, sank like a stone as the cold weight of reality hit with those words. He didn’t owe me anything, much less my lying alter ego. Heavens, I had to be honest. I had to tell him the truth of who I really was.
“Tarik, I need to tell—”
But the moment was lost when the coachman rapped sharply on the door, making us both jump. And then Tarik’s lips were erasing the sense from my brain as he cupped my cheeks and kissed me passionately. He pulled away much too quickly for my liking.
“Before you go, I want to request you meet me next Saturday evening,” he said huskily.
I blinked. “The night of Mama’s ball?”
His eyes gleamed as he reached into his pocket and pushed a folded piece of paper into my palm. “Yes. Instruct your driver to take you here. It won’t take long, I promise. We’ll both be back in time.”
“What’s this?” I asked, staring down at the neatly written but unfamiliar address.
“Something I wish to do for you in return.”