Chapter Nineteen

T he Right Honorable Miss Bernice Natham

“Mrs. Worth, I am attending a luncheon at the Stratham Hotel this afternoon.” Moran strode out of his office, looking sharp in a black suit. He looked extremely fetching with his hair combed back with pomade and a clean shaven jaw. I tried not to notice, but it was hard not to.

In the last few days, he’d been polite but distant. Ash hadn’t visited the office either, which allowed me to work on The Ghost of Mistletoe Manor . Moran turned his back to retrieve his coat, revealing a few strands of white hair.

“Mr. Moran, you seem to have some sort of hair on the back of your coat.” Perhaps a cat or a dog?

He tried to look over his shoulder, which was a useless endeavor, but I didn’t point out the obvious. His nervousness made me even more curious as to whom he was meeting. It was none of my affair, except I itched to find out.

“Oh, bother. It’s from my cat.” He tugged at his lapel and plucked a few strands off. “I should rethink my suit.”

A cat, of course. I had assumed Moran didn’t have any kind of animal since I had yet to see traces of one. Of course, there was a lot about him that I didn’t know. He’d told me he was a curmudgeon but, thus far, hadn’t exactly lived up to the moniker.

“That won’t be necessary. I will fix it in a trice. I also have a cat.” I pulled the sterling silver lint brush from my bag, a trinket my mother had left me. My father was a cat enthusiast, and I inherited Tabby from him. “He is fond of leaving orange fur everywhere, hence the reason I carry a lint brush.”

“His name is Tabby, correct?” He reached for the proffered brush and began to brush at the wool, missing several spots. “Ash mentioned the incident with the mouse.”

“The girls have an affinity for mice. Thus, it upsets them whenever Tabby tries to do his duty and kill said creatures.” What else had Ash shared? “May I help?”

“Please. I need to make a good impression.” He looked unsure at first but handed the brush over. I stepped behind him and lifted the brush to his broad shoulders. What lay beneath still teased me. I employed efficient strokes, trying not to notice the heat emanating from him or the woodsy scent of his shaving soap.

“Are you meeting a new author?” I asked before realizing the inappropriateness of asking him personal questions. He had been in and out of the office lately, and I missed having him just on the other side of the reception area door.

The muscles under his coat bunched, tightening the fabric against his shoulders.

“Actually, no. I am lunching with Mrs. Ashton and her friend. Did you get all the hair? I must leave if I am to meet them on time.” He craned his neck, twisting his torso to the left at the same instant I twisted to the right.

“I—” Unprepared for his sudden move, I grabbed his arm to steady myself. My breasts pressed into his upper arm, my nipples constricting at the hardness beneath them. Our eyes locked, and my breath caught. We were standing very close to each other, and I could see the flecks of black in his amber irises. Strain hung in the air, neither of us moving from our precarious position. I resisted the strong need to press against his parted lips with mine.

A shout from the street below jarred me out of my stupor.

“I should leave,” he said in a husky rasp completely unlike his usual clipped manner.

“Yes, that would be wise.” The connection between us was undeniable, and I yearned to lean in and kiss his lips. My foolish musings were taking me to places I had no right to go. Common sense said to ignore the pull of his hard body. “You don’t want to be late.”

“No, I don’t.” Moran’s back to me, he donned his greatcoat and hat. He had told me in no uncertain terms he wasn’t interested in me as a woman. “How are the edits coming along?”

“I finished them last night and was reviewing my notes.” I had stayed up late every night for the past week, enthralled by Roth’s storytelling capabilities and reading excerpts to my sisters.

“Excellent. Put it on my desk, and I will look it over later.” Moran slipped his hat on his head and frowned, moving to the radiator. “It is rather cold in here.”

“Yes, a tad bit.” I hadn’t truly noticed. His presence had a way of warming me, a silly thing to happen, but there it was.

“The radiator can be finicky in the winter.” He placed his hand on it and tilted his head. Kneeling on one leg, he moved the mechanism, the wool of his trousers tight against his thigh. “This appears to be broken. Please add that to my to-do list.”

“I will do that forthwith. It is getting colder outside.” Even before my father’s demise, we had been prosperous in name only, and I was used to being cold. My father hadn’t seemed to be aware of that fact, leaving my sisters and me to fend for ourselves while he indulged in whatever whim hit him.

“I hope it doesn’t snow. If it does, I insist that you close early and leave.” Moran stood before slipping on his gloves. He turned to look at me once more, concern in his gaze.

The solicitousness he showed me warmed my heart. I didn’t think I could like him more. Apparently, I was wrong.

“I will do that.” I waited until he closed the door behind him before sagging weak-kneed against my desk. Moran had the oddest effect on me. I yearned to kiss him to simply find out if it was all my active imagination or if there would be passion between us. Grabbing the manuscript, I entered his office.

There definitely was passion between Ash and me. The fact he had been absent made me anxious. I wasn’t supposed to like him because he was an inspector. However, I liked him more than was wise. Nor—as a virgin and a lady—was I supposed to lust after any man, let alone two very handsome friends.

The office seemed empty without Moran’s dynamic presence. I glanced at the end of the room where the punching bag hung. Images of him half-clothed aroused my earlier desire. My cheeks flaming from my thoughts, I walked by the typewriter and skimmed my fingers over the stack of paper by his Remington. Like me, Moran was an excellent typist, and I often heard the steady cadence of the keys while I worked in the reception area. I straightened the top sheet to reveal bold black script.

I skimmed the page, each word causing a hitch in my heart rate. Lady X strode across the courtyard of her villa in southern Italy, her heels clicking on the cobblestones. A man with golden hair emerged from the shadows cast by clouds in the Mediterranean sky.

Instantly captivated, I sat down to read more. She turned to look at him, her pulse humming at the sight of her lover.

“Oh dear,” I said to no one. Lady X and Lord Golden were lovers. How very intriguing. Rather like the thought of Ash and me together. My pussy came to life, and I continued to read. When I was a child, only wealthy people could afford real books. My father had a large collection, which I had to sell off. Once sixpence novels became popular, religious groups feared that the books might illicit pernicious stories leading to the corruption of young readers’ minds. I thought it was silly. If Violet wanted to get ahold of a book like this, nothing I could do would stop a determined girl like her.

Lord Golden approached his love, his hands outstretched. She came willingly into his embrace. Their lips met in a passionate kiss until another man entered the pagoda . pavilion, Moran had corrected. I agreed with his choice.

“Lector is at it again. He has kidnapped the Contessa’s son.” Lady X shook her head, clutching Lord Golden’s arm. Rather like I had with Moran. Another man entered the courtyard, his hair as black as a raven’s wing. Golden stepped back and held out his hand to the man. Their eyes locked and the Dark Knight leaned in to press a kiss to his lover’s lips while Lady X looked on.

I stood so fast the chair nearly toppled over in my haste. Did I just read what I thought I read? Shocked by what had transpired, I cautiously approached once more. It was silly to be afraid of a book. My eyes skimmed the passage again and my cheeks burned. Lord Golden and the Dark Knight were kissing! It was indeed pernicious in nature. Well, beyond pernicious.

Unable to help myself, I continued to read. Lady X reached for both men, her hands settling on their necks. They turned to look at her, heat in their gaze before Golden leaned in and pressed a sultry kiss to her lips. She lifted her head and the Dark Knight began to ravish her lips.

Lady X and the two men were having an affair? I pressed cold hands to warm cheeks, my eyes eagerly absorbing more. The Dark Knight dropped to his knees in front of Lord Golden while the other man continued to kiss Lady X. Whoever the author was, their style was engaging, but the subject matter was enthralling.

Despite knowing that what I held was dangerous to Moran in many ways, I had to keep reading.

Did Ash know what Moran published? And if he found out, would he have him arrested? They were friends but he also had a duty to the crown. I shook off the doubt. Moran didn’t seem concerned enough to hide his book, and Ash had been in his office more than once.

More selfishly, what would be the repercussions if people found out I worked for Moran, knew what he published, and said nothing? Those questions needed to be pondered. I couldn’t truly afford to quit at this juncture, even if I was offended, which I wasn’t. On the contrary, the story thus far had played into my own imaginings with Ash and Moran and me.

An all-out inferno of shame continued to dog me. Moran had acquired the book, hence the subject matter couldn’t offend him. Perhaps he was like the two men in the book. Since leaving the protection of my father’s house, I had been exposed to more than most ladies of my station. My former landlord had kept company with loose women, and had been fond of walking around half-clothed. Of course he couldn’t hold a candle to Moran with his taut belly and muscular arms, or Ash with his strong frame.

He and Ash were close friends and carried on a lively back and forth. Rather like a flirtation. Could the two of them be like Golden and Knight? And if so, would I ever dare to be their Lady X?