Discovery of Desire (26 page)

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Authors: Susanne Lord

BOOK: Discovery of Desire
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Twenty-three

She rather hated sewing.

It was a sulky thought, but Mina was prone to sulky thoughts these days. She stretched her stiffening wrist and shook out her fingers, taking a moment to glance out the window at the wall across the narrow alley. A short slant of sun lit their neighbor's wall on its way to setting for the day. What time was it? Six? Six thirty? They'd been sewing since half past seven this morning and, without Emma, she and Mary had long exhausted their conversation.

“Shouldn't Emma be home by now?” she asked Mary. Once a week, each of them volunteered at the Mother's Meeting Club in Cabbage Court. The kitchen always needed help in serving the poor. And until recently, Mary and Sebastian had been among the needy.

A light rap on the door and Mina was on her feet.
Thank goodness, Emma.
She breathed a sigh of relief. “Here she is.”

Emma's cheeks were pink, and her blond curls haphazard under her bonnet, but she wore an enormous smile. “He's going to help me.”

“Who?” she asked.

“Mr. Ingram. He has agreed to take my cause against Colin Rivers.”

Mina sighed in frustration. “Is that where you were? You were supposed to be at the Mother's Club with Mrs. Bradford. It's too dangerous to wander alone in the City.”

Emma raised her chin a notch and unbuttoned her coat. “You ought to be pleased. You're forever going on about our finances.”

“Emma—”

“Mr. Ingram says if Mr. Rivers will not answer for his abandonment, we will flush him out.”

“Like a snipe, I suppose?” she said.

“Like a cad who ought to take responsibility for his actions. He will certainly not like to be embarrassed in front of the directors of the East India Company. They will not like to keep a man of such dubious character in their employ.”

“So you will charge him publicly? Shame him?”

“If he will not do the honorable thing. I should expect him to do the same to me had I done the same.” Emma stared, her cheeks paling. “I really thought you would be pleased, but
nothing
pleases you of late.”

Hurt, Mina dropped her eyes back to her sewing. And, yes, she
loathed
sewing.

The stitches blurred, but she would not wipe the tears from her eyes lest Mary and Emma see her cry. No, nothing pleased her, and the scold was the closest Emma had come to mentioning Seth's abandonment of her.

It was her own fault. She should have demanded that Seth give her his direction but he had promised to the day after their visit to the Reptons' three weeks ago. And that was the day Thomas had surprised her.

Three long weeks. She didn't even know if he was still in England. East India would give her no information. And the butler at Lord Bosham's town house in Grosvenor Square had not let her see Georgiana, but had promised to tell her she had visited.

No one would tell her where he was and she could not see him. If only she could see him again…

How could she berate Emma for chasing a man? She was chasing her own.

A knock sounded on the door and all four of them—Sebastian included—raised their heads in surprise.

Emma went to the door. “Who is there?” she asked through the door. Mildmay Park was no place to open doors wide.

“It's me. It's Seth.”

Seth?
Mina's stomach plummeted and only the ribbing of her corset kept her upright in her seat.
Oh dear God—Seth!
He hadn't left. It wasn't too late.

Emma looked back at her, wide-eyed and frozen, so Mina jumped to her feet and hurried to unlatch the door. “Wait,” she breathed, though he could not hear her.
Wait wait wait
—a sob of panic was rising against her throat, and she fumbled with the lock. Had she imagined his voice?

The latch turned, the door swung wide, and there he was, filling the entire door. And his wonderful eyes locked on hers. And crinkled. “Ah, Minnie,” he said quietly.

And his voice was so full of relief, that for a moment, all she could do was stare in confusion and wait for her heartbeat to ease. She was not even angry, though the wait had been long and so unkind. Because Seth was never unkind.

“You're here.” She finally managed to breathe the words. And there were so many more words she needed to say.

“I'm here,” he rasped. “I'm sorry I didn't come back and come sooner. It wasn't right but I'm needing a minute to talk to you, Minnie.” His lips thinned. “No, that's not accurate. I shouldn't have said a minute. Maybe eight minutes or nine—”

“Come in,” she said. “I wanted to talk with you, too.”

Seth angled his broad body into their abode. He nodded at her sisters, and
for him
they put down their needlework and beamed welcoming smiles.

“Ladies, would you mind if I speak to Minnie alone?” he said.

Mary lurched to her feet and made to collect Sebastian. “Yes, of course.” Mary's voice was unnaturally high and cheery. “We'll go to Mrs. Bradford's again, shall we?” Her skirts swayed with the speed in which she bundled her son and Emma into their coats and out the door to their neighbor.

Seth stood in the middle of the small parlor, his arms hanging at his sides. It was unnatural to not see him smile or hear him laugh. And she wanted that more than anything else in the world. “I'm so happy to see you. I was so afraid you'd gone and—”

“Minnie, would you mind if I talked first? On account of how all my words are about to jump out of my head? And if you're holding me to that eight minutes, I'm afraid I'll not get through them if you're saying things back, which I'm thinking you do, and have a right to—”

“You can go first.”

He nodded, rubbing his big hands together. “Minnie, I was thinking you shouldn't marry Tom with any haste. It's peculiar, I know, after what I said before. But I don't want you to marry him yet, on account of my still wanting to marry you.”

Oh. Oh dear.

Yes.
It ached to even think the word. But yes, please…please, yes. But did he know how hard it would be with her family? How long they may have to wait? Did he love her enough to wait?

Seth's gaze dropped for an instant, and when he looked at her again, there was wariness in his gaze. “But I can't—ah, Minnie, I can't ask you to marry me right now.”

The ache deepened, but she wasn't surprised. She was too practical to be surprised. She only nodded because she'd promised not to interrupt. And really, she didn't know what she could say. Sewing for hours had apparently deadened her brain.

“I don't expect you to trust me on everything, not without knowing my plan, which I'm still working on. Because I know a lady like you deserves a strong plan.”

A plan?

“And Tom Grant
is
a good man.” Seth hurried through his words. “But I hope I can be better for you, and I just wanted to say that before you and Tom got too far along in the matrimonial arrangements. Because my plan just needs a little more time. So I'm asking you to wait on marrying Tom. Just until I can sort out my plan. Would you?”

Seth had a plan.

He searched her eyes, looking uncertain. “Would you wait for—you can talk now, Minnie. I didn't need all my minutes.”

She blinked and fixed her smile, because, really, what could she say but, “All right.”

“All right?”

She moved closer. “All right.”

“Ah…Christ,” he groaned, staggering to the sofa.

Alarmed, she reached for him but he sat down hard, the sofa scraping on the floor to hit the wall. He bent at the waist to rest his head in his hands, clutching thick tufts of blond hair between his fingers.

“Seth?” She knelt in front of him. “What's wrong? Are you all right?”

He shook his head. “Just a minute, pretty.”

She waited but stroked his shoulder, needing to touch him.

He lifted his head and smiled shakily. “I'm all right now. I didn't know if you'd agree.” He swallowed. “You said you
would
wait on marrying Tom, didn't you? Just so we're both talking plain.”

She released the breath she'd been holding and took his face in her hands—his perfect, kind, indecently handsome face—and kissed him. She'd wanted to kiss him the moment she heard his voice through the door. “Yes, I'll wait.”

“And you'll wait to hear my plan?”

“I'll wait,” she whispered. “I'll wait for as long as you need me to wait.”

“Good…good, thank you.” Clumsily, he caught her arms, pressing them against her sides. The tremor in his hands battered her heart so she kissed his brow, his eyes, his jaw, his chin, until his grip eased.

He took a deep breath. “Minnie, do you need me to tell Tom you're waiting? It's awkward, I know, but—”

“Oh. No, you don't have to tell Thomas anything.” She straightened to smile at him. “I already told him I would never marry him.”

His eyes widened. “Why would you do that, Minnie?”

“Because I want to marry you far too much.” She smiled. “I think I was waiting for your plan.”

He pulled her into a corset-crushing hug. “Ah, Minnie. I swear to you, I'll do everything I can to marry you. I just need to sort out my plan.”

His plan. She itched to ask him what that plan was, to
help
him plan. But something told her he needed to do this alone.

This time, she couldn't manage anything.

“Can I say what I wanted to say now?” she asked.

He grinned and turned her about to sit on his lap. But he rested his head on her shoulder and nuzzled her. A long breath heated her neck. “Go on and say anything you need saying, pretty.”

“I know you'll make a good plan for us, Seth.” She took a steadying breath. “But I'm afraid I'm going to complicate it a little.”

His arms tightened but he held still.

“I love you so much. And I want to marry you”—she pulled back to look into his eyes—“but first, I have to let you know that I can't leave my sisters just yet. We're fine now, but the income the three of us make allows us to lease these rooms and feed ourselves. I can't leave them yet. I can't leave until…”
Until Mary and Emma wed, or they find stable employment, or some miracle occurs
. “I can't leave them, Seth.”

He watched her, his fingers lightly drumming on her back. “Right,” he said. The word so…simple. “Right. I already knew that, pretty.”

He did?

His eyes dropped to her mouth. And the next instant, he stole her breath by gripping the nape of her neck and kissing her as if he'd just remembered they'd been apart—apart that horribly long and inexcusable time.

His lips gentled, and he was caressing her mouth so softly, so sweetly. Seth. Her gentle man. So giant and powerful and handsome. And yet it was his generosity and honor and gentleness that bound her heart to him.

She held him closer and thrilled as his kiss changed, moving more urgently on hers, growing wet. Her body was beginning to simmer everywhere their bodies melded together. She shifted on his lap, needing to relieve the untouchable yearning there.

She yanked her mouth away, needing to be able to think. “Don't ever go to Brazil. Whatever your plan is and whatever happens, don't go to Brazil.”

He was panting hard, the high planes of his cheekbones ruddy with color. He swallowed. “All right,” he said solemnly.

“And don't ever sail again.”

“All right.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “All right?”

“All right, Minnie.”

He cupped her face and kissed her, his lips nudging and pleading, and she let herself enjoy the sweet attention—but only for a moment.

“And one more thing,” she said. “Take back your money so you can fix your cottage, and plant your orchard, and buy sheep.” She drew a breath. “That was four separate things, I realize now.”

His eyes narrowed—and crinkled, bless him—and at last,
at last
, there was a smile in them. “Minnie,” he said hoarsely. “Keep that money and buy some sugar for your tea and coffee a man can actually drink, and take a jarvey every now and again, and buy yourself some new dresses, and take Sebastian to the sweetshop.”

“But it's not our money.”

“Settle it on your sisters for when the suitors come calling.”

“Their suitors…?”
That would be wonderful, actually.
He kissed her and she couldn't argue anymore. When he lifted his head, she asked, “What will you do now?”

“Since you're to be had, pretty”—he grinned wickedly, his lids lowering as he stared at her lips—“I'm thinking I'll start my plan in earnest.”

His voice rumbled deep in her breast. And lower. And teased her where she was most sensitive and in need. “I'm to be had,” she whispered.

So handsome. And rugged. He must not have shaved today. Dark-blond whiskers covered his bronzed cheek. She slid her tongue against the coarse grain.

The powerful body beneath her jerked, but he tipped his head back, giving her full access to his strong neck and hard jaw. And desperate to taste him, she slid her lips over him, suckling him, reveling in the slightly salty taste of his skin and the rumbling growl of pleasure vibrating under her mouth.

“Ah…Christ,” he groaned, writhing beneath her. “I want you, but your sisters…?”

The curtains were drawn against the dark night, but the door wasn't latched. On shaking legs, she pushed off him, pulling her skirts from his grip so she could stand and lock the door.

Mutely, he stood to follow her, but she didn't want him against any door again. Faint with desire, she could barely stand upright, so she was relieved it only took her hand on his chest to push him back to the sofa.

“What do you want, Minnie? What do I do?” he asked hoarsely.

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