“Discreetly, if you please.”
“Of course.”
Then her proximity became too much. He pressed a fleeting kiss to her temple, which caused her to catch her breath. Questions danced through his mind, building like soap bubbles on laundry day. And above all, he feared he was coming to depend on her all too much. “Regarding what happened between us yesterday, I—”
“Oh, do hush, Inspector.” Francesca shook her head, interrupting him. “Please don’t ruin what we did by an apology I neither want nor demand.”
Relief coursed down his spine. “But we really need to discuss—”
She huffed and then placed a gloved forefinger over his lips. “No, we do not. If repercussions reveal themselves, then and only then will we discuss it.”
“Very well.” Then that image of chubby little babes glimmered into his mind’s eye again, and he trembled from the force of it. He glanced at her, caught her gaze, wondered at the emotions clouding those depths. “Did you, ah, enjoy what we did? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” God, he was a cad for continuing to talk about it, but he needed to know.
“Yes. I enjoyed it, and no, you didn’t hurt me.” Her cheeks blazed red, and when she dropped her gaze, the dark arc of her lashes against her skin held him captive at the perfect symmetry. “It was rushed, of course, but I found it fascinating and satisfying.”
“Good.”
Another swath of companionable silence brewed between them until she spoke again.
“What are your hopes for the future, William? Do you desire a wife, a family? Or will Bow Street forever be your first love and mistress?”
Another difficult question made even more complicated by the woman at his side and his confusing feelings for her. “I think perhaps there is the hope of that, yet time is moving against me. I’m nine and thirty, Francesca. Relatively old within ton circles, which makes me vastly unsuitable for most young ladies.” How long would it be before he couldn’t handle the rigors the job demanded as his body aged? What would he do as a livelihood when that time came? “Even you must admit I’m well older than you.”
I can’t worry about that now.
“Yes, there is that, but from what I’ve seen of you and your… prowess, you still have many long years of living left to you. There is nothing wrong with a gap in age.”
Heat went up the back of his neck. Did that mean she considered him a catch? “What of you? Do you want those things?”
“I do, of course, and the thought of holding a child of my own in my arms puts a craving into my heart I can’t deny. However, I’m smitten with becoming a journalist too. Is it selfish to want both? To hope that the man I choose will support me either way?”
Then she hadn’t decided between him and Wainwright at all. Damn and blast. “No, it’s not selfish, but I will tell you this. The man you marry will want every happiness for you regardless of what you wish for your life.” The image of the babes flitted away, and a coldness in his chest lingered for that lost dream.
Bloody hell but he admired her. She was smart and sassy, but self-conscious and skittish at the same time. It made for a heady mix and a challenge he wanted the chance to take on. Would she give him that opportunity, let him help her?
There was no more time to ponder or even ask her, for the carriage rocked to a halt. He eased away from her, put a proper distance between them, and when the driver jumped down, William pressed the door handle. He nodded to his driver, waited for the steps to be put down before he exited.
Perhaps tea would clear his tumbled thoughts, for he certainly hadn’t been able to evict Francesca from his mind successfully after intercourse, and now he wanted her even more because of it.
*
“Devil take it.”William threw his linen napkin onto his still-empty plate, for no sooner had he and Francesca sat at a cozy table at the tea house than an all-too-familiar courier came over to him and delivered an ivory envelope to him. He withdrew his reading spectacles and set them upon the tip of his nose.
Come at once. Body found in the Serpentine near the North Gate. Same style of murder as the rest. No delays this time on arriving at the scene, Storme. My patience with your performance grows thin.
Chief Inspector Pryce
“Another murder?” she asked in a soft voice, for the tea house was a bit crowded.
Bloody, bloody hell.“I’m afraid so.” He removed the spectacles and tucked them plus the note and envelope into a pocket of his greatcoat as he stood. Unfortunate timing, that, and loathe to leave her, he added in a rush, “Come with me, Francesca. I’d…” Well, he couldn’t very well spill out the state of his thoughts. “I’d like to have your unique insights.”
A blush infused her cheeks. “I’d be happy to.”
“Good.” Despite the fact that he enjoyed having her around, she wasn’t as committed to a relationship as he wanted to be. Perhaps. It added to the worries already circling his life. “We’d best go. Chief Inspector Pryce is already annoyed at me due to my tardiness in arriving at the last crime scene, but I promise we’ll return here to have our tea.”
Her soft gasp sent need sailing down his spine. “You risked professional wrath to be with me at a society event.”
“I did.” He nodded and couldn’t help his grin. “It was well worth the high cost.”