Heat flushed her cheeks. She wore a gown of blue silk, low-cut and form-fitting, far too risqué for any of the parties this Season. “Thank you,” she managed. “You look wonderful as well.”
He’d obviously taken some time with his appearance and wore a pair of buff trousers, a cream shirt, and a nice brown coat. He smelled wonderful, of bay rum and whatever made him uniquely Quinn.
“Where are we?” he asked, looking curiously around the foyer.
She took his hand and led him toward the parlor. “Remember when I told you I was looking for a house of my own? Well... this is it. Or at least, this is the house I picked when I thought it would only be me living here. Now... it could be our house, if you like it.”
He turned in a circle, taking it in, rubbing his hand through his hair as she’d come to learn he only did was he was uncomfortable. “Our house?”
She nodded nervously. “I wanted to show it to you, wanted to know what you thought before I went any further.” She wanted him to like it so badly. She didn’t know what she’d do if he hated the idea of living here.
“How is this going to work?” he asked at last. “How do you want it to work?”
“How is what going to work?” Knowing that the time had come to have a very serious conversation, she led him toward the sofa, perching on one end.
He sat down beside her but left more space in between them than she’d like. “How is any of this going to work? Our marriage, our assets, our day-to-day life. What exactly do you want from me, Allison?”
“Honestly, I’m not certain,” she admitted. “I suppose I just want to take it one step at a time.”
He let out an exasperated sigh. “But what does that mean? Do you want me to give up my job, my house? You want me to live here with you and be your lapdog?”
She flinched back a bit. “Of course not. How could you think such a thing?”
He gestured around the elegant parlor. “I know that my house is nothing compared to this, but I’m happy there. And I’m not certain I feel comfortable living in Belgravia while I work in Bethnal Green.”
A heavy weight settled on top of her chest when faced with this first obstacle toward them ever being able to forge a happy life together. “Do you want me to sell this house then? Move with you to your home in Bethnal Green? Is that where you want to raise our children?” Even she knew that last question was a dirty blow, but she suddenly felt very defensive.
He flinched. “No, I would never want a child of mine to grow up there.”
This conversation wasn’t going at all like she’d wanted it to. She’d wanted to once again find that closeness between them, remind herself, and him, why they’d decided to get married in the first place. And they couldn’t do that by arguing about their living arrangements.
She scooted a little closer to him and leaned her head against his shoulder. “It isn’t going to be easy to find an answer to some of those questions,” she said softly. “I know that, and it scares me. But there are a few things that I see in our future that I think we can agree upon.”
Tension riddled his body, but after a long moment, he put his arm around her shoulders and hugged her to him. “Tell me.”
“We are friends, there is such passion between us, and we care about each other’s feelings. Surely, we can find a way to decide where to live. If not here or there, then a middle ground that works for both of us.”
A soft laugh escaped him, and he hugged her even tighter. “I don’t know if it can ever be that easy, but you’re right about all of those things, and I’m willing to try.”
Relief swept through her. Perhaps they didn’t have to figure it all right now. She had so many other, better plans for tonight.
“Are you hungry?” she asked.
“Famished,” he admitted.
“You’ve been working so hard.” A wave of tenderness washed over her. “Stay here, and I’ll bring you something.”
She hurried to the kitchen, which admittedly was a room she had no experience at all with, but Jocelyn’s cook had sent over a simple meal of roast beef and potatoes, and Heather had shown her how to leave it warming in the oven. Feeling a great sense of accomplishment, she arranged it on two plates then put them on a tray along with silverware, a bottle of wine and two goblets, and a small spice cake.
Carrying it into the parlor, she set it down on the blanket she’d laid out in front of the fire. She gave him a wary smile as she arranged a few pillows on the blanket. “I thought we could have a picnic.”
Quinn’s eyes widened, and he got off the sofa and came to sit on the floor by the food. “Allison... this is wonderful. You didn’t have to do this for me.”
“I wanted to,” she assured him. “I want to do nice things for you, Quinn. I want very badly to make you happy.”
“You’ve succeeded spectacularly,” he said with a smile, sitting his plate across his crossed legs and digging in hungrily.
She watched him eat for a moment, warmth suffusing her. This simple meal shared on a blanket on the floor was better than any of the fancy dinner parties she’d ever been to. And it occurred to her suddenly that perhaps a simple life was exactly what she needed. Maybe she could be happy living with him in his small house in Bethnal Green.