The Earl Takes A Bride. Kathryn Jensen

just now would be considered prudent by Jacob, especially in his present status as reformed-playboy king.”

      Thomas cleared his throat, looking more uncomfortable by the moment. “I’m sure it wouldn’t, Mrs. Fields.”

      She shrugged. “Please…we can’t very well revert to courtly etiquette, not after that kiss.”

      Oddly enough she felt stronger, in better possession of her mental facilities in the aftermath of Thomas’s amorous onslaught. She was puzzled by this unexpected side effect. Maybe the brief taste of pleasure had syphoned off pent-up energies that had been interfering with her effective analysis of the situation. At the very least she’d been reminded that men and women did, under the right circumstances, interact with passion.

      Had Gary even once embraced her with such fervent desire? She couldn’t remember. She thought not. No, definitely not. She certainly hadn’t felt her body respond as it had when Thomas kissed her. Which was somewhat in excess of cataclysmic.

      “I-I’m truly sorry for overstepping my bounds,” Thomas muttered, avoiding her eyes. “I was out of line.”

      “Yes,” she agreed. “You definitely were.”

      He adjusted his shoulders, ran his tongue between his lips and seemed to make up his mind to meet her gaze again. “I’ve never forced a woman. It wouldn’t have gone further than the kiss. I wouldn’t even have kissed you if you were still married. Please, forgive me if I’ve embarrassed you.”

      “I forgive you, Thomas.” Why did everything he say send teasing vibrations through her? “I suppose you might have been misled by that silly thank-you kiss. I’m not focusing very well these days on other people’s feelings. There are so many things still to be resolved, even though Gary’s been gone for over six months.”

      “That long?” He looked surprised.

      “Actually, it seems longer. For the past two years, maybe more, he hasn’t been around much at all.”

      “I am sorry…truly I am.” Even now he looked as if he wanted to touch her, but she didn’t understand why that should be. Allison had told her something of Thomas’s taste for glamorous women.

      Nevertheless she stepped around the kitchen table to the other side. Furniture made good defensive fortifications. From this distance she thought she saw a shadow pass over his eyes. It occurred to her she might have hurt his feelings or touched on some hidden injury without realizing it.

      “I’m sorry I’ve been so rude,” she said apologetically. “I have been very short with you, and I know it. But it’s totally against my nature to accept help. I’ve always been able to fend for myself.”

      “Isn’t that what your sister was trying to do by keeping her baby to herself?”

      Diane remembered as if it were yesterday. She smiled. “At the time, it seemed unlikely the father of Allison’s child would ever come back into her life. Who could have known the college boy she’d fallen for was a prince—complete with royal palace and a country at his bidding?”

      Thomas smiled, too, looking a centimeter less tense. “At one time I didn’t believe Jacob was other than a spoiled rich boy who needed looking after while he was in an English school away from his family.”

      “You started working for him that long ago?”

      “Yes,” Thomas said, pulling out a chair, then motioning for Diane to sit in it.

      She sat, then picked up the scone she’d dropped on the table and took another bite. He spotted the pot of coffee on the countertop and poured each of them a cup.

      “I’d just come out of the British army after serving overseas. I wanted to stay home for a while in London, see if I could find a decent job….” He winked at her. “Talk a few girls into bed while I was at it. Those were my only goals. Simple ones.”

      “Simple but laudable for a young man,” she commented with a hint of sarcasm.

      “Well, they didn’t work out. Instead, I acquired a young lad who always seemed to be getting himself into trouble. The first time I saw Jacob, he was at the wrong end of another man’s fist, getting beaten to a bloody pulp by a couple of what you Americans call longshoremen. I stepped in to even up the sides, and we managed to walk out of the pub alive.

      “He was still in school at the Crenworth Academy and headed, he informed me, for more years of formal education in the United States. His future had been mapped out by his family. He hated not being able to make his own decisions about what to do with his life.”

      Diane nodded. “I understand.” Hadn’t so much of her own life been determined by chance?

      “To make a very complicated story short,” Thomas continued, “Jacob attached himself to me. I don’t know why. Maybe because I didn’t keep reminding him of who he was, because I really didn’t know.” He smiled. “But it wasn’t long before a crotchety royal chancellor cornered me and filled me in. You could have knocked me flat with a teaspoon. A crown prince. Being prepped to take over the throne of one of the wealthiest little countries in Europe—Elbia. And there I was taking him out to pubs, pulling him out of fights and walking him home, both of us drunk as skunks. I was shocked. I apologized and promised the man I’d never meant Jacob any harm. It was just that I liked him, I really did. And I sort of felt sorry for the lad.”

      Diane was amused by Thomas’s tale. “Then what happened?” she asked, as he polished off his first scone and reached hungrily for a second from the sack.

      “I told the old man I’d make myself scarce. But he says in this German accent you could cut with a knife, ‘You vill continue to go everywhere with Jacob. You vill not let him out of your sight for as long as you or he lives. The king vill pay you vell to continue protecting his son.”’

      Diane laughed at his imitation. This was a piece of palace lore she hadn’t heard from Allison. But she couldn’t help noticing that Thomas mentioned surprisingly little of his own background before he’d met Jacob, and she made a mental note to ask him about that later. She was curious.

      Diane finished her own buttery scone and sat back to lick delicious crumbs from her fingertips while Thomas finished a third pastry. They drank another cup of coffee slowly, in companionable silence. For some reason she had the distinct impression that Thomas’s mind wasn’t as quiet as his body.

      At last he looked across the table at her.

      “What now?” she asked. “No more Mr. Nice Guy?”

      He frowned. “What?”

      “I think it comes from a movie, or maybe a TV show. Don’t know which,” she murmured, automatically taking in the sounds of play from the backyard. She’d learned to read them so well she could tell the children were safe.

      Thomas folded his hands and observed her over the wide knuckles. “Learning to accept help when it’s necessary to one’s survival is an important life lesson,” he said solemnly.

      His eyes felt as if they were driving an opening through her body to her heart, making way for his message. She lifted her gaze to the ceiling and sighed. “I see. So what you’re telling me is that Jacob intends to help me whether or not I want his help.”

      “That’s right,” Thomas said. He reached across the table, lifted a strand of hair from over her eye and tucked it behind her ear. “I’d say you’ve had a rough six months, at least. You deserve a rest and time to think about what you want to do. It’s not just your own life, it’s your children’s future that is in the balance.”

      Tears suddenly threatened. She willed them away and swallowed over the tightness in her throat. This was the one argument that had a chance of swaying her. Her children’s welfare. She could insist that everyone leave her alone, as long as she risked only her own security. But as soon as Thomas put the situation that way, she couldn’t let her pride make decisions that might hurt her babies.

      Thomas