Abigail lowered her fingers. She might have enjoyed kissing David, but he didn’t appear at all pleased. She sighed, disappointed not to have made a better impression. “Mr. Hawke, I had no sinister motives in kissing you. It was my first, but since you appear to dislike kissing me, I’ll not continue. I shall say goodnight to you. My curiosity has been satisfied about kissing—at least for now.”

She shut the gate behind her and cast a quick glance in his direction. In the moonlight, he looked infinitely more dangerous than the crusty bachelor he claimed to be. To Abigail’s way of thinking, the gate wouldn’t prove much of a barrier should he wish to launch himself over it. Her heart fluttered at the idea.

“First?” He stepped up to the gate and clenched the top. “Miss Watson, I fear my own curiosity has not fared so well in the exchange. Do not tempt me further.”

She set her hand to her hip boldly. “Or what?”

He smiled. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

He disappeared in the blink of an eye, leaving Abigail with the rush of exhilaration coursing through her veins and a burning curiosity to know what it would take to tempt him into another kiss.

CHAPTER FIVE

The cool brine of the channel supported David as he floated with the calm waves in the early morning light. This was what he’d missed most while living in London. There, he never had more than a copper tub of water to submerge in and it lacked the slight itch of salt on his skin. He scrubbed his hands over his arms, enjoying the way his skin tingled.

Around him, his friends employed their own style of sea bathing, but Walter George was certainly a distraction. Despite Valentine’s assurance last night that Walter’s swimming had improved, their youngest companion had sputtered a great deal at the edge of their swimming party. David had been at the point of suggesting he go ashore when everyone else stilled to float along with the current.

The first to leave the water was Valentine. He never stayed in long, preferring to rush his dip and then hurry back out again. Given the hours Val kept with his study of the constellations, he’d be keen to return to bed so he would be fresher for the evening’s celestial studies.

Walter George followed him, grasping for a length of towel as soon as his feet hit the sand. He covered his less-than-muscular physique quickly. Modesty among men tended to slip at the seaside. David liked to dry off naked in the sun and gain a bit of color. Today his skin seemed pasty white in comparison to the others who had been swimming here every day for the past month. It had been a long time since he had been so active or outside for so long and he was feeling slightly unsteady.

He flipped over and made his way ashore, stumbling a little as his feet readjusted to walking on the sea floor. He had grown soft in London. Brighton would toughen him up. It always did. He sat next to his clothes, a few feet from where Valentine lazed, sunning himself, and wiped his face dry. “Beautiful morning.”

“Beautiful evening, too.” Val dragged his gaze from the sunlit heavens. “I saw a surprising new constellation last night. One I never imagined to see.”

David grinned. “That’s wonderful. But if you’ve made a discovery why have you not shouted it for all to hear this morning? You must tell everyone.”

Valentine scowled. “It wasn’t that kind of constellation. Not the kind that thrills my blood. I could have sworn I saw the shape of a Hawke swooping on tender prey. I thought better of you, old man.”

David stilled. Had his friend seen those rash kisses between him and Miss Watson? Val’s scowl convinced David he had.

“It was a mistake and will not happen again,” David quickly assured him.

Valentine lifted his gaze to the heavens and sighed. “If it does, I will expect to hear a suitably grand announcement and to receive an invitation to the wedding. Lips do not usually connect so accidentally. She’s a good girl, or has been until now. I would hate to see her heart broken when you disappear back to London.”

Guilt made David squirm. He’d spent many hours since last night debating the wisdom of having allowed the second kiss from Miss Watson. Sadly, he couldn’t erase the memory of her from his mind. Saying Abigail had been enthusiastic had been a vast understatement. He’d never experienced such a sweet, soul-consuming kiss. He’d quite forgotten himself in the rush of discovery. She’d surprised him with her flirtatious comments, too. She wasn’t the girl next door he knew or expected to speak with.

Despite those imprudent kisses, he shou

ldn’t, couldn’t offer for her. She was too young. Far too young for an old man like him, and his business with her brother would set them at odds. It could not be halted by any sort of attachment developing between them. He was a fool to even entertain the brief fantasy.

Regardless of still being wet, David threw his shirt over his head, raked his fingers through his hair, and gazed out at the shapes bobbing with the waves. Peter Watson had drifted further out than usual, effectively avoiding any possibility of conversation. David hadn’t really wanted to spoil the morning with bank business himself, but he couldn’t put it off indefinitely. They would have to talk, and Peter would be made to listen in the end.

He dressed, thinking over how to begin the discussion. He didn’t hold out much hope to remain friends after this. But he did hope not to become bitter enemies.

Val slapped his shoulder. “Must have been some kiss.”

“Beg your pardon?”

“That kiss last night. You’ve not been yourself all morning. Are you in love with the girl?”

“Not at all.” But he did feel oddly protective of her. Despite how it looked, he didn’t want Val to misunderstand the situation. David had confided in Val before when he’d been faced with a troubling situation, and frankly, he could use an impartial opinion. He moved closer to his friend so he couldn’t be overheard. “I can explain. By chance I spotted Miss Watson rush out her back gate late last night. I was concerned because she was unattended. I knew Watson had you all for company and likely wouldn’t notice she had left the house. I followed her up the laneway, and she called on Miss George. Rather than leave, I waited until she came back out.”

Val set his hands on his hips, his expression amused. “And just how did the kiss come about? You tripped and your lips stuck together?”

David still couldn’t work out that part. But it appeared Val didn’t know there had been two and he wasn’t going to ask which one he’d seen if he could avoid it. “This is rather embarrassing. Apparently, the lady wanted her very first kiss to be from someone she knew. I swear I have been nothing but respectful with her and will continue to be so.”

Val frowned. “You called at the Watson’s first last night before you even crossed your own threshold. Why?”


Tags: Heather Boyd Miss Mayhem Historical