Part 12 (2/2)

But what?

Thanks to Nicole and a lifetime of watching her do her mischief, Lydia had developed a talent for sniffing out mischief, conniving. Nicole's mischiefs had always been harmless, if at times bordering on the dangerous-like her midnight rides on her Juliet, dressed in the cast off trousers of their male cousins. But they had never been sly or mean.

Lydia didn't think she could say the same about whatever Jasmine was up to, she and her Mr. Beattie.

She didn't know why she felt that, she just did. And that left her with a dilemma she didn't want to think about: whether or not she should tell Tanner what she knew, what she thought.

First of all, she would be telling tales out of school about Jasmine and her...friend. Secondly, and nearly as important to Lydia, she would be condemning herself as a snoop.

So, no, she wouldn't tell Tanner.

That left Justin, didn't it?

He would only laugh to hear that Jasmine had been carrying on clandestinely with the local schoolmaster. And he'd be delighted that she had snooped, because he would have done the same thing.

Yes, that's what she'd do. She'd bring Justin into her confidence. Because he was silly, he was smart, she was certain he was not easily shocked, he might even have some suggestions for her...and although she hoped he liked her, it wouldn't break her heart if he didn't.

Only Tanner could do that.

”Lydia? Are you ready to go down to supper?”

Once again she put her hands to her breast, feeling her heartbeat skip at the sound of Tanner's voice on the other side of the door. Unless she did something about that ridiculous overreaction, she might soon do her heart some injury.

How long would he insist on walking on virtual tiptoes around her? How much longer could she let him be such a gentleman?

Because Nicole was right when she'd said, oh, so many times, that always being good was horribly fatiguing. It hadn't used to be, but it was now.

She crossed to the door and opened it, and then stepped back, inviting Tanner inside, telling him that she would be just a moment, as she wished to check on something in her reticule. My, lying was easier than she'd imagined.

He'd also taken the time to bathe, and his dark blond hair was even darker as it curled behind his ears, one lock falling onto his forehead. Her fingers itched to touch it.

He looked relaxed in his evening clothes, which were well-tailored, but not fitted to his form in the way Justin's were. Tanner clearly favored comfort over fas.h.i.+on, and she was glad, as she also would like to think that she wore her clothing, it did not wear her. Lovely as her gowns looked now that the necklines had been lowered-and, as she'd found out as she'd had to draw in her breath in order for the maid to fasten the last of her b.u.t.tons, Nicole must also have instructed the seamstress to make them more formfitting-she missed the comfort of how they had been.

”I've invited someone to join us in our private dining room,” Tanner said as she pretended to hunt for something in her reticule. ”I hope you don't mind. A soldier I met along the road. He's also traveling to Malvern.”

”Oh?” she said absently. ”That was very nice of you. Ah, now I remember. I left that handkerchief in the pocket of my riding outfit.” She put down the reticule and walked over to him. ”Did he say where he had fought?”

Tanner seemed to hesitate before answering her. ”Quatre Bras. He said he was Fourth Foot, and I know they were there, among other sections of the battlefield during the course of those two days.”

Lydia felt a fist forming in her midsection, but ignored it. ”It's all right, Tanner. But thank you for warning me.”

”His name is Benjamin Flynn. He's Irish.”

”Oh my goodness, Tanner, stop looking at me like that. I'm not going to dissolve into a puddle of tears any time I see an Irishman who may have fought at Quatre Bras, or anywhere else for that matter.”

”I know that,” he said, raking his fingers through his hair, performing an action in frustration she'd only moments earlier wished to do for quite another reason entirely. ”I only thought it fair to warn you.”

”And now I've been warned.” She took another step in his direction, close enough to him now to be aware of the clean scent of his soap. ”Have you noticed, Tanner, that we're alone here together? You and I. n.o.body else is in this room with us. Please. Stop opening the door to anyone else, to any other time.”

He lifted her hands in his, slowly kissing first one, then the other, as he looked down into her face. ”If this room were filled to the rafters with other people, along with the shades of a thousand more, I would see only you.”

What a beautiful thing to say to her. She'd never heard anything more beautiful. ”Tanner...”

”I so want the two of us to spend time together at Malvern. I want...so many things. But I don't want to rush you,” he said, just as she was about to-well, she didn't know what she had been about to say. Just Tanner.

”We've known each other for nearly a year,” she pointed out, and then immediately wis.h.i.+ng she hadn't, for all that did was bring back the memory of the day he'd told her about Fitz. The day she'd railed at him, physically beaten at him, screamed out how much she hated him. ”That is to say...”

”May I kiss you, Lydia?”

She swallowed, the action almost painful. Her mouth had gone suddenly dry, her tongue all but cleaving to the roof of her mouth. She could only look at him.

”I'm sorry. It's still too soon. I apologize-”

He didn't say anything else because she had gone up on her tiptoes and pressed her mouth to his. She wouldn't allow him to say anything else. Wouldn't let him be honorable, and polite, and so stuffed full of goodness that he would walk away from her, even now.

His arms went around her and she sighed in relief, sighed right into his mouth, for he had opened his over hers, an action that sent a wave a giddiness racing through her.

She slipped her arms up and around his neck, fearing that he would come to his senses before she could understand what it was his kiss was doing to her, and held on tight. Her first kiss. Her second love. Reality dueling with the dream.

Reality winning.

Tanner withdrew slightly, but only to slant his head so that he could draw her more closely against him, bite softly at her bottom lip before fully taking her mouth once more.

His hands were on her waist now, nearly spanning it, making her feel small, but not fragile. Instead, she felt real, perhaps for the first time in her life; knowing who she was. She was Lydia. She was a woman, with the desires of a woman, not the dreams of a half child. Alive, for the first time in her life.

The three quick, staccato knocks on the door just behind them were more than enough to have them springing apart rather like guilty children. The sound of Justin's voice as he asked, entirely too jovially, if Lydia happened to know where Tanner had taken himself off to.

Tanner kissed her one last time, quickly, and then put a finger to his lips.

Lydia nodded, took several deep breaths, and finally answered, ”No, Justin, I'm sorry. I don't know where he is. But I'll be down directly.”

”Shall I wait for you?”

She looked at Tanner, who shook his head, pointing to her...was he pointing to her mouth? ”Uh...thank you, but no. I'll see you downstairs.”

”Very well. And if you see my good friend Tanner anywhere, do tell him to behave.”

”Um...yes. Certainly. I'll tell him.” Lydia turned shocked eyes on Tanner, who merely rolled his as he shook his head in clear exasperation. ”He knows you're in here,” she whispered, and then pressed her ear against the door, listening as Justin's footsteps faded down the hallway.

When she stepped away from the door, it was to see Tanner dipping the corner of a towel into the cool water in the basin.

”He knows,” she repeated unnecessarily. ”And he thinks it's amusing. What a strange man.”

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