Heiress in Red Silk, Hunter, Madeline [good beach reads TXT] 📗

with Kevin. It had been fascinating, and highly pleasurable. She was lost, and he had helped her find her way. No one who had any kindness would think the worse of her for inviting that marvelous distraction.

The question was whether she should allow it again.

Small tables dotted the garden. Spring blooms poured from vases and planters. Vines covered walls and arbors. She couldn’t imagine a more beautiful place to have a meal.

Kevin already sat at one of the tables, drinking coffee. She paused. What does one say after such a night?

He saw her and stood, so she had to go to him before she had an answer to that question. He looked much the same, although maybe his smile appeared warmer than in the past. And his eyes—she could not ignore that awareness of their intimacy reflected in them.

A server came over and Kevin told him what to bring. Tea arrived for her almost immediately, along with a basket of rolls, breads, and little cakes.

“I suppose we should talk about Monsieur Forestier,” she said. “You said we would in the morning.”

“First, I think we should talk about last night.”

“As I entered the garden, I was wondering what one said after—well, after.”

“I expect it is customary to say thank you.”

“Is it? Well, thank you, then.”

She looked over her teacup to see he was almost laughing.

“It is customary for the gentleman to say thank you, Rosamund. Not the lady.”

“Oh.”

“So, I thank you. I had a wonderful night. Incomparable.”

She cleared her throat. “I thank you too, even if it is not customary to do so. After all, I barely gave you a choice.”

“It was understandable that you required distraction. Did you find it?”

“I was thoroughly distracted.”

“Should you ever need it again, I hope you will let me know.”

He was asking for another night. Maybe many of them.

“I will do that. Now, should we discuss Monsieur Forestier? I meant it last night, about providing some funds. I am a partner. It is my obligation as much as it is yours, should we do this.”

“You are very sure, in the clear light of day, that you still want to do that? Last night when you offered, you were disadvantaged.”

“My, you are conceited, Kevin. Are you saying that I was not of sound mind?”

He leaned in. “I was licking your breast.”

“Which was very nice. I was not so abandoned that I could not think, however. Indeed, learning at least the basic information about Forestier was necessary so that I would not be distracted by curiosity while I was being distracted by . . . other things.”

He leaned back. “If you want to invest further, I am not going to complain. How do you see this being done?”

“We need ten thousand by the end of the week—”

“We don’t have to carry ten thousand to him by then. Just sign the documents and reassure him of fast payment.”

“What? You mean we don’t have to hop a packet home, stuff a valise with gold, and hurry back?” She smacked her temple with her palm. “Thank goodness for that.”

He eyed her cautiously. “I was only making sure that you understood.”

She felt guilty for her little game. “It was good of you to do so. Anyway, it seems to me that when we return to London, I will provide seven thousand and you three. Then, come June, you can pay me back the two thousand, and we will remain equal partners.” She sank her teeth into a little cake. “Or, if you prefer, you can keep the other two thousand and we will be slightly unequal partners.”

A sweet scent came to her. She eyed the cake and wondered if they had included rose water in it. If so, that was unusual, but not unpleasant. Only as she finished the cake did she realize Kevin had not spoken.

She looked over to see him studying her. He had that look. The one that said he wasn’t angry so much as exasperated.

“Rosamund,” he said in his most Kevin Radnor voice. “If you think that I will allow you to be a majority partner in our enterprise, even by the slightest, tiny bit, even briefly, you are much mistaken.”

“Have it your way. Now, you can go tell Monsieur Forestier of our choice, and I will go to the galleries at the Palais-Royal and fill my trunk.”

“He may want to see you. He was much taken with you.”

“He will see me when I sign the documents. If he refuses us, he will not.” She allowed the server to pour her more tea and chose a bread that looked like a scroll. “What did you mean when you said ‘incomparable’?”

“Excuse me?”

“You said last night was incomparable.”

“That means without comparison.”

“I know what the word ‘incomparable’ means, Kevin.”

“Of course you do. I meant that—” He appeared uncomfortable, which for Kevin was unusual. “I suppose there is no harm in saying—I do not normally spend the night with a lover.”

The roll was a revelation. Flaky and buttery. Pity she couldn’t buy them in London. “Is it the spend-the-night part that is unusual or the lover part?”

The garden’s appointments seemed to capture his attention. “Both.”

“I suppose that is because no women enthrall you enough. I assume you prefer brothels. They would be better for your close study of carnal matters too.”

He did not answer, which was eloquent in itself.

She wondered if tonight he would seek out one of the brothels in Paris. Word had it they were incomparable.

* * *

“Mademoiselle is not with you today?” Monsieur Forestier didn’t mention Rosamund’s absence until he had set out some wine in the study he used at the university.

“She decided to shop at the Palais-Royal this afternoon. She sends her regrets and asked me to tell you that she looks forward to seeing you when she signs our agreement.”

“Have we then come to one?”

“We have. Ten thousand for the exclusive license, as you require.”

They sat on two worn armchairs in front of a fireplace. Windows were open to the fair day, and scuffling students’