Chapter 29
Atlas
Estelle’s soft smile was like a pink ribbon curling perfectly across her porcelain skin.
My free hand went to her shoulder, and I tilted my head, eager to capture her alluring mouth with my own.
Her words had eased the pain I carried like a healing balm.
There was nothing I wanted more than to tell her what it meant to me.
A hair before our lips met, a stark memory of my recklessness stilled my progress. I was diving into deep waters again without being completely sure of my bearings.
I could hurt Estelle.
I could hurt myself.
My asinine fears won. I straightened, my hand slipping from her shoulder. I pulled her hand off my cheek and slid from my seat on the counter. “Forgive me, I almost kissed you.” I stole a look, not ready for the anger or disappointment I would find.
She blinked softly, no trace of either of the expected emotions, her eyes lifting from my mouth to meet my eyes. “You did? I mean, why didn’t you?”
My brow rose, my heart pounding. “Did you want me to?”
A look of apprehension, and dare I say longing, passed over her. “It depends. Did you want to?”
She had no idea. I stepped in front of her. “I won’t kiss a woman unless I am fully committed to her.”
She fumbled with the tie on her wrapper. “That is a reasonable . . . reason.”
I loved the way she stumbled over her words, nervous but not condemning. “I hoped you would say so.”
“I know I could not let a man kiss me for lesser reasons.”
And yet she had been about to let me kiss her. Did that mean . . . ?
My feet moved forward again of their own accord, trapping her legs that were dangling from her seat.
In hearing my own words, my mind started to catch up with what my heart was already telling me.
I had grown attached to Estelle Lewis. Very attached.
And maybe kissing her was not the worst idea, but the very best.
“I do want to kiss you, Estelle. Very much.” I lifted one hand to her waist, while the other raised to smooth her hair, tucking a tendril behind her ear.
“And I want you to kiss me,” she swallowed. “But there is much we do not know about each other.”
“I want to learn it all.” My head naturally drew close to hers again. My nose met her smooth, ivory cheek. I tipped my head just enough for our faces to fit perfectly together but stopped myself just shy of kissing her.
“Are you toying with me?” she breathed.
I laughed against her cheek. “I’m not trying to. It’s rather the opposite. I’m trying to tell you how I feel, that I want to commit to you, but the right words aren’t coming to me.”
Estelle held her body still as a statue, her breath warm and her lips trembling. Please, I wanted to beg. Please accept my love.
“I think . . .” she said carefully, “that those words are sufficient.” Then she turned her chin and our lips met.
I wrapped my arms around her, my heart soaring.
Her sweet lilac smell and the feel of her against me heightened all my senses.
I had kissed a few women in my life, but it had been for sport.
Those kisses were nothing like this, and I was nothing like that man anymore. My heart was on the line, and my hopes tied up in every movement of our lips. It was not just a kiss. I was pledging myself to her and begging for her to accept a future with me.
Because nothing less would be enough.
Past three in the morning, I stumbled into my bed. It had been tempting to stay in the larder all night, but I had too much respect for Estelle and a hope to respect myself too. I led her to her bedchamber and placed a chaste kiss on her cheek before slipping away to my own room.
Exhaustion overcame me, and I slipped into a deep sleep. But my sleep was never uninterrupted. I began dreaming of the attack again. Sometimes I saw someone’s face. It was always one of the men I had beat at gambling, his eyes tormented and full of hatred.
All at once, my attackers disappeared and my rescuer was by my side. And this time she had the voice of Estelle. She smoothed my hair, sang to me, and pressed her mouth to my forehead.
I woke up remembering the feel of satin lips on my skin. Instead of being drenched in a cold sweat and bone-deep exhaustion, I felt invigorated. My nightmare finally had a different ending.
All because someone real and wonderful cared for me.
Estelle.
Could a man be so fortunate to have two rescuers in his life?
I believe the healing offered to my heart now by Estelle was as meaningful to me as the saving act by Miss Palmer.
I had plenty of experience with infatuation, but this was different.
Dare I say that it was the beginning of real love?
The pinnacle of this realization had to be knowing that this deep emotion growing inside me was reciprocated.
I had seen the affection in Estelle’s eyes last night and felt it the moment she had been in my arms.
If I wanted to court her properly, we could not be in the same house together. If she were not so wonderful with Augusta, there would be far more options. Regardless, before the day was through, I had to devise a plan.
Climbing from my bed covers, I moved to the window and pulled back the blue velvet drapes.
Sunlight poured into the room, bathing my face with perceived warmth.
After the theater last night, I imagined the whole house had slept in.
I could have used a few more hours myself, but I was too excited to fall back asleep.
While I had yet to discover the best way to alter our living situation, I knew exactly what to do with my time this morning.
And it had to be done before Estelle awakened.