Chapter 14 #2
Her breath caught as the full reality of where she was — and who she was beside — struck her with the force of cold water.
Damon lay still, one arm flung carelessly over the empty half of the bed, hair tousled, lips parted slightly in sleep.
For a moment she simply stared, dazed by the sight of him, by the strange peace on his face that she had not once seen there before.
Then she snapped into motion.
"Oh — no. No, no, no." She scrambled from the bed in a tangle of limbs and rumpled nightclothes. Her dress from the night before lay crumpled over the nearby chair, and she seized it the way a drowning woman seizes a rope, already half into her skirt by the time Damon stirred behind her.
A low, lazy sound escaped him — something between a groan and a laugh. "Did the house catch fire?"
Elizabeth glared at him over her shoulder as she wrestled with the buttons of her bodice. "I cannot believe your composure."
He rolled onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow, entirely unbothered by his own state of undress. "You are panicking. How very legal of you."
"My uncle will be here soon." She yanked the bodice closed with more force than the fabric strictly deserved. "If he learns I stayed the night — if he so much as suspects what occurred here — the consequences will not be gentle."
"Spoken like a woman well acquainted with consequence." His grin was tousled and entirely too pleased with itself. "Though I wonder, Counselor, how precisely you intend to explain wearing the same dress as yesterday."
Elizabeth froze mid-button.
She swore under her breath — a word Charles would not have approved of hearing from his niece, and one she would not have used in any company but this.
Damon swung his legs over the side of the bed and stretched, entirely too pleased with himself for a man in his current state of undress. "Because Charles notices everything," he said. "Particularly where you are concerned."
She began to pace, already constructing the shape of an explanation. "I stayed to work. After Henry's confession, I found I could not rest — an unstoppable urge to review the documents overtook me. I collapsed on the settee somewhere near dawn, buried in parchment, entirely spent from the effort."
Damon laughed as he reached for his shirt. "Weak. But not impossible."
"I shall take that as approval."
He came nearer, fastening his collar, watching her smooth her skirts and pin back the loose strands of her hair with fingers that had not quite stopped trembling.
She turned to leave — but his hand caught her wrist.
Before she could object, his mouth found hers, warm and unhurried, drawing a startled breath from her that she had not meant to give.
The kiss lingered a moment longer than either of them had intended — long enough to remind her precisely what they now carried between them, and precisely what they meant to keep behind closed doors.
When he drew back, she was breathless. And, unmistakably, blushing.
"I confess I look forward to seeing how you explain that particular color to him."
She gave him a shove that carried no real force behind it, and together they made their way downstairs to set the kettle and assemble, as best they could, the appearance of an ordinary morning.
Because daylight, whatever else it brought, always brought the world with it. And whatever passed quietly between two people after dark had a way of demanding, by morning, to be kept very carefully out of sight.
◆◆◆
The tea had gone cold on the table by the time Charles arrived.
Elizabeth opened the door before he had finished knocking, a breath already forming. "Uncle, yesterday I—"
Charles held up a hand. His face was drawn, his eyes hard in a way she had rarely seen.
"We have a matter to discuss."
Her stomach tightened. "What sort of matter?"
He stepped inside, his coat still carrying the chill of the street. "A constable came to the magistrate's chambers an hour after we left the house last night. He reported that men had been seen watching the carriage that carried Henry to the second location."
Damon rose from his chair. "Watching him? Was there—"
"No altercation," Charles said. "No approach was made. But he was observed. Someone knew precisely where to look."
The room went quiet.
"Then they know," Elizabeth said. "They know we have him."
"They likely suspected it the moment he failed to reappear," Charles said. "This merely confirms it." He removed his gloves slowly, methodically, the way he did when his hands needed something to occupy them while his mind worked through the rest. "We proceed as planned. But carefully."
Elizabeth was already reaching for her satchel. "I must get to the office. There is a great deal to prepare, and I—"
She moved toward the door.
Damon caught her hand.
He said nothing dramatic — no speech, no declaration. Only, quietly, so that it was meant for her alone rather than the room: "Be careful."
She looked at him for a moment. Something passed between them that neither Charles nor the morning light fully accounted for.