Regency Collection 2013 Part 1. Louise Allen

The new patch of floor did not sag so alarmingly, that was true. Lily put her arms out and used them to keep her balance. ‘Now walk straight forward until you get to the edge.’ Like a tightrope walker, Lily teetered forward until she could look over. It seemed a long way down.

      Jack appeared, foreshortened from her viewpoint, his shoulders covered with dust, which must have showered down as he moved beneath her. ‘Sit down on the edge.’

      ‘What?’

      ‘Sit down, and hang your legs over the edge.’

      ‘I can’t!’ It was hideously high up.

      ‘Why not? Lily, this is not the time to worry about a man looking up your skirts. Besides, I have seen your legs and very nice they are too.’

      ‘Oh!’ Lily sat down with a thump, then remembered that she was scared and shut her eyes.

      ‘Now jump.’

      ‘What!’ Her eyes flew open. ‘Are you mad? Go and get a ladder or something.’

      ‘There is no time. Lily, believe me, you can jump or you can fall. Jump and I will catch you.’

      She stared down, thankful that she was sitting, for her legs were trembling. Jack just stood there like a rock, arms held out. ‘Lily! Jump!’

      So she did, pushing off with her hands. It was endless, and yet over in a second. Jack caught her in a tumble of limbs and petticoats and took two long strides back as the beam gave way and the makeshift roof hit the ground with a rumble like thunder.

      Was it worth the five minutes of absolute terror to achieve a few moments with Lily in his arms, clinging to his neck and quivering? Probably not, especially as she was presumably quivering with fear and quite patently not with the thrill of being in his embrace.

      ‘Lily? Are you hurt?’ A violent shake of her head and a tightening of her arms around his neck were the only responses. Jack easily resisted the thought that perhaps he should set her down and walked instead to the other end of the warehouse.

      He found a crate and sat on it, holding Lily on his knee. She was still shaking, so he insinuated a hand under her chin and pushed up her face. ‘Lily?’

      She was glowing with colour, her eyes were sparkling with excitement rather than the tears he was expecting and she was quivering, not with fright, but with excitement. ‘That was wonderful!’

      ‘It was what?’ Jack demanded. Ready to comfort, cuddle and possibly caress her, this was like a punch in the stomach.

      ‘Wonderful. Jumping like that. For a moment, a split second, it was like flying. I was so frightened, and then I jumped, and I wasn’t scared any more.’

      ‘Possibly because you knew I was going to catch you.’

      ‘Of course. But it was something so exhilarating. Jack, they jump out of balloons, don’t they? With things called parachutes?’

      ‘I think so. But ladies do not go up in balloons. Women do not go up in balloons. Full stop. Which means they do not come down from balloons, by any method whatsoever.’ Best to flatten that idea before she took it one step further. Too late.

      ‘Only because all the aeronauts are men at the moment—I suppose that all their patrons are too. But it is merely a question of who is paying for the ascent, sponsoring the balloon. Is not that so? If one were paying the aeronauts, they would have to take whomever their patron told them to.’

      She was wide-eyed with interest and calculation. One part of him wanted to applaud, one part—most of him—wanted to bundle her up, rush her south and press her into the restraining arms of her trustees with the demand that they shut her up for her own safety. To protest was, he suspected from experience, enough to encourage her. Thankfully Lily appeared to be talking herself out of it.

      ‘But what would one wear? Skirts would be most impractical! To adopt breeches would cause a scandal. I shall have to think about it.’

      ‘Yes, do that,’ Jack urged with feeling, provoking a gurgle of amusement from Lily.

      ‘I am sorry to tease you. You were very brave to catch me. I did not hurt you, did I?’

      ‘No, not at all,’ Jack lied. Lily’s slender body arriving in his arms with such suddenness and force had jolted him back on his heels and his shoulders felt half-wrenched out of their sockets, but he realised he would have died rather than admit it. He mocked himself silently for needing to appear heroic in her eyes: first wanting to preen like a peacock because she had watched him duelling and had admitting being stirred by it, now this.

      Jack looked down into the wide green eyes that were smiling up into his with amused concern and felt not just his loins, but his heart, contract. He had made love to Lily, he had fought with her, he had spurned her proposal and here they still were. He wanted her with a force that stunned him. She confessed to finding him desirable and most of the time seemed to like and trust him.

      What if he tried wooing her properly, in both senses of the word? Chastely, slowly, with flowers and flirtation? Would she react as she had in the Long Gallery with anger and with words that still burned like acid whenever he thought of them?

      She would have her title, he would have the woman he loved and all the money he could possibly need and the lovemaking would be … spectacular. And there could be more than that: he could assist in the business. He was not like Randall, he did not look down on commerce and he had experience that would be valuable. They had been a good partnership today, hadn’t they?

      For a moment the vision of what life might be like swam in front of his eyes. And what would that make him? A kept man, that is what he would be, however much he could assist. Taking a wife with money was a sensible, practical thing to do, there was no disputing that. Men did it all the time—families allied themselves as a matter of course, with an eye to linking up lands, consolidating fortunes. But this was different, this was too extreme a difference in fortunes to be decent …

      Could he do it? Could he buy happiness by selling his soul? Lily sat there, patiently waiting for him to finish his thought, her body warm and confiding against his. He focused on her face and she smiled a little so he caught a glimpse of even white teeth. His need for her must have shown somehow, for as he watched she became very still, so that he was conscious of her breathing. Her lids, heavy with sooty lashes, dropped, shielding her thoughts, but her mouth betrayed her. Her lips parted and she ran the tip of her tongue across the sweet, soft curve of her lower lip. Jack could feel himself bending towards her.

      He is going to kiss me. Perhaps, after all, she had not been daydreaming and Jack truly was going to woo her with soft kisses and gentle flirtation.

      ‘Lily.’ His voice was husky and seemed to resonate through her. How had she lived for twenty-six years without ever hearing anyone speak her name like that before?

      ‘Yes?’ This time he would ask her to marry him, and she would say yes. They could work out all the problems, she would learn tact, she would learn good taste, she could even learn economy …

      ‘Lily, we cannot go on like this.’

      ‘I know.’

      ‘We argue a lot.’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘We both have our fair share of pride.’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘We seem to have a very strong physical attraction to each other.’

      ‘Oh, yes.’ She shut her eyes.

      ‘We cannot go on like this.’

      ‘No. You said that. I agree with you.’ Just kiss me, then ask me!

      ‘I think we should—’

      ‘Yes!’

      ‘Just avoid being alone together.’

      ‘What?’ Lily bounced to her