Tilting his head, he disclaimed, “I prefer not to disclose my secrets.”
Inferring that he had leapt between balconies, she was impressed. Nevertheless, he shouldn’t be here and if he were caught she didn’t like to think of the scandal—not to mention Bing would not be so compliant in the future. “I believe you are uninvited,” she chided in a teasing tone, smiling so that he knew she wasn’t offended.
Instead of heeding her, he approached to stand very close. “Send me away, then.” Placing his hands at her waist, he pulled her to him and bent his head to gently kiss her mouth.
Her pulse beating erratically, Hattie hoped they couldn’t be seen from the street, although she was too paralyzed with exultation to do anything about it. It was clear he had seized upon this opportunity to take advantage—now that Bing was otherwise occupied—and she struggled with her conscience for a moment. It wasn’t a fair fight, with his warm, probing mouth upon hers—and her conscience didn’t win. Only for a few moments, she promised herself; then we will descend to the courtyard for a decorous stroll.
Sinking into the bliss of sensation, she pressed her hands against his chest as he deepened the kiss, slanting his mouth against hers and pulling her closer to him with one arm while the other hand rose to caress the side of her face. As though she had done so a hundred times, her arms went around him and she was beyond concern—it was so natural and right, as though they had been slated to be together from the first—the attraction that drew them together was elemental; unstoppable.
With escalating heat, he broke away from her mouth to kiss the side of her face, her throat, her neck—no easy feat as he was so much taller. Surrendering to the heady sensations, she raised her chin to allow his delightful mouth full access to her neck, feeling his fingers move along the base of her throat with a feather-light touch.
“Daniel?”
Hattie froze in horror. Berry paused, then straightened up and turned toward the sound without any show of discomfiture.
“Do I interrupt?” The young woman who watched them from the balcony next door was amused. She was blondly beautiful, tall, and dressed in the first stare of fashion.
“Mademoiselle Blackhouse, allow me to introduce Mademoiselle Eugenie Leone.”
Hattie wished the ground would open up beneath her. “How do you do?” she stammered instead.
“Not as well as you, I think. When you have a moment, Daniel.” With a twinkling eye, the other woman disappeared from view.
Mortified, Hattie turned to gaze up at him, and he laid a gentle finger on the tip of her nose. “I should go,” he said softly, his tone tender.
“Yes.” This much seemed evident.
She had the impression he wanted to tell her something, then thought the better of it. “May I exit through the door?”
Still struggling to recover her equilibrium, she agreed, “That would be more in keeping, I suppose.”
They walked across the room, his hand once again resting on the small of her back. “If you would return to Mademoiselle Bing, I will be there directly.”
“Certainly,” she replied, trying not to betray her continuing embarrassment.
She detected a gleam of amusement in the brown eyes as he paused to gently kiss her mouth. “We will continue our discussion at another time—yes?”
“We shall see,” she equivocated, not wanting him to believe she was as malleable as she had proved thus far. He chuckled as he made his exit, not deceived by her show of coyness.
Hattie closed the door behind him and leaned against it in acute distress. To be discovered in such a compromising position—she held her breath for a moment to see if she could hear raised voices next door, but heard nothing. Mademoiselle Leone is not what she seems, he had told her, but one certainly could believe they were on intimate terms if she was looking for him in his room—and she had called him “Daniel,” which was equal parts interesting and infuriating, as Hattie had never been offered his name, and certainly one would think she had earned the right. Although it probably wasn’t his true name, which was apparently as much a secret as the wretched mummy’s. I don’t understand any of this, she thought a bit crossly—and it is so annoying that we are constantly being interrupted. Brought up short, she took herself in hand; you have no business allowing such liberties—exercise some restraint, for the love of heaven.
She then ruined the effect by wishing she had at least one low-cut gown in the manner of Mademoiselle Leone’s—Hattie’s décolletage was just as impressive.
Chapter 20
The new arrival joined them at breakfast the next morning, and Hattie was given an opportunity to study the unflappable Mademoiselle Leone, who was entirely French, with a vivacious and charming manner. She also made a point of openly flirting with Berry, which Hattie took in good part as the other girl was witness to Berry’s preferences, and could be forgiven for her pique. If the newcomer thought to get a reaction out of Hattie she was to be disappointed, particularly because Berry’s hand kept finding hers under the table. But when the gentleman bent his head to Hattie his murmured words were far from lover-like: “Did you mention our concerns to Mademoiselle Bing?”