“Thank you, my lord.” Edith smiled with genuine warmth, then left the room without a backwards glance.
She made her way back through the corridors and up the stairs, the pathway clearer now than the day before, and soon she was at the nursery, knocking on the slightly ajar door.
“Come in!” chimed a sweet voice.
Edith pushed the door open further and smiled at Molly, seated as she was on the floor with her dolls. “Is there room for one more?”
“Edith!” Molly darted over and hugged her tightly around the waist. “Do you want to play with my dolls? I have enough for us both.”
“I would love to,” Edith told her, situating herself on the floor.
The two of them soon lost themselves to their imaginations, playing all sorts of things with their dolls, including story time, school lessons, and dance instruction. Edith told a few stories she could remember from her childhood, letting her brogue ring out proudly, as befitted the tales. Molly was a strict dancing instructor but said Edith showed great promise.
What a relief.
Molly’s nanny appeared then, a tall woman with a kind face and soft voice, and she offered to procure some crumpets from the kitchen if the ladies would like a tea party.
The places were quickly set, and Edith was named Princess Zara to Molly’s Queen of Spain, with many dolls as their additional companions. Warm water with lemon served as tea, and the conversation among the table was highly amusing from all assembled.
They had been at it for quite a while, and were giggling madly, when suddenly Molly looked past Edith at the door and frowned.
Edith turned to look and found Lord Radcliffe leaning rather casually against the open door, watching them with a bemused expression. Granted, they were sitting on the floor, and it was not the most elegant of situations, but surely, he had seen worse.
Not from Edith, but all was decent and proper, even so.
She lifted her chin proudly. “My lord.”
His mouth quirked as he took in the sight before him. He winked at his niece, who went back to speaking with her dolls. Then, he looked down at Edith with a raised brow.
“You’ve been up here quite a long time, Edith. Shouldn’t you be down with the others?”
She shook her head at once. “I would much rather be up here having tea with her majesty, the Queen of Spain,” she said, gesturing grandly to Molly, who dramatically bowed at least three times, “than anything else at the moment. The crumpets are delicious, and the conversation is far better than downstairs.”
“Hear, hear,” Molly cried, only half listening, but smiling at Edith anyway.
Lord Radcliffe grinned at Edith, a full, true, glorious grin. Her heart raced at the sight of it.
“You can’t hide up here forever,” he murmured.
Edith shrugged nonchalantly, or at least attempted it with her heart and breath being what it was. “Who is looking for me? Besides you, I mean. Despite all your best efforts, my lord, I am exactly the inconsequential lass I was in London, with far less worry, and with one new friend who means more than anyone else I have met since being here.”
She smiled at Molly, who popped another bite of crumpet into her mouth and grinned with her cheeks full.
“At any rate,” she continued, tracing patterns on the lace tablecloth before her, “I canna bear to hear more of the rumors about me. I’ve heard quite enough, and the only one who knew about my brother being in my home was… you know who. If everyone believes what he said about him, they will believe anything else he says, so my chances of finding a protector have likely run their course. I might as well enjoy myself while I can. Besides, no one suits so well as…” She trailed off as she realized that the name she had thought of belonged to the man before her.
Crivvens…
Clearing her suddenly clogged throat, she said, “Spending time with Molly is far more important than that.”
He did not respond, did not so much as move.
Edith glanced over at him and found his smile had faded; his eyes so arresting she could not find a single word in her vocabulary.
His throat worked, and he looked at Molly. “Sweetheart, I need to take Edith away now. She will come and see you tomorrow, all right?”
The little girl pouted but nodded. Lord Radcliffe came to help Edith to her feet, and Edith leaned down to Molly to give her a hug and a kiss on the head.
“Until tomorrow, lassie,” Edith murmured with a wink.
Molly attempted to wink back. “Good night, Edith.”
Smiling, Edith turned and allowed Lord Radcliffe to escort her out into the corridor. He turned to shut the door, facing it for a long moment, his back to her.
“He was your brother?” he murmured softly.
Edith stared at his back, the strength in its breadth powerfully evident, making her flush from head to toe. “Who? Oh, Lachlan? Aye, my idiot brother who frightened the weasel one day, and apparently, now the whole world thinks he’s my lover.”
He released a low sigh, then turned, his eyes dark, saying nothing further.
Edith began to shift uncomfortably under his gaze. “Are ye troubled that I spend my time with Molly?” she asked in a timid voice. “I’ll no’ do so publicly; her reputation will be untarnished.”
He slowly shook his head, then pushed away from the wall and strode towards her. One hand went to the side of her face as he pressed his lips to hers. It was gentle, so soft, and yet perhaps the most intense kiss Edith could have imagined. It called to the depths of her soul, sent ripples down her spine, and she trembled at their connection. He set his hand at her waist, holding her firmly rooted, his fingers sliding against the suddenly shockingly thin fabric of her gown.
The kiss was over quickly, and Edith found herself gasping softly as he broke off. His mouth hovered a hairsbreadth above hers, waiting for her response, his unsteady breath tingling against her tender lips.
Edith could barely think, barely breathe, but in that moment, she felt as though she had been waiting for him to kiss her for an age. And she was not done yet.
She slid her hands along his jaw and into his thick, dark hair, forcing his lips back to hers. This time they were not as gentle, and her back was pressed against the wall rather abruptly, his hold on her increasing. She arched into him, his lips sending a spell through her that left her dizzy and elated, yearning for more of this flurry, more of this tide. It was heaven, and she prayed it would never end.
There was so much in his kiss, beyond any words she knew. This was heat and longing and truth, purity and passion and poetry. Her heart seemed to burst into flames within her, and all she wanted in the world was him. Was this. Was them.
He broke the kiss again, though she would happily have continued, and his erratic panting echoed her own. His hand moved from her face to wrap around her fevered frame, cradling her in his embrace.
Edith rested her forehead on his chin, her hands sliding from his hair down to his shoulders, gripping him for balance as they breathed in the silence together.
“I have wanted to do that for so long,” he finally said, his voice unsteady.
She chuckled in a low tone. “Really? You didna say anything about it.”
He snorted softly, and his hold tightened. “In case you haven’t noticed, I am not the most sociable person.”
Edith pulled back a little and smiled at him. “No, I suppose not. How long?”