‘Perhaps I might be of assistance.’ And now Mr Templeton was there, polite as always, offering his arm to Belle. ‘May I escort you to the fireworks grounds, Miss Arabella?’
‘That would be most helpful,’ Amy supplied, not giving her sister a chance to refuse. Then she paused. When Templeton appeared, had he come from the lighted park behind them or from further up the dark path? She puzzled over it for only an instant before deciding that it was a matter that could be discussed at home, if it was discussed at all. ‘But please, Belle, first you must go and find Miss Watson and tell her you are all right. She is at her wits’ end.’
Belle looked distraught at the thought that she had caused trouble.
Mr Templeton gave her a brief, encouraging smile and then replied, ‘We will find her this instant and set everything to rights. Come, Miss Summoner.’ And then they were gone and Amy was alone in the dark walks of Vauxhall, with Benjamin Lovell.
For a moment, they stood silent, listening to the rustling of the wind in the leaves and the occasional whispers and sighs of couples alone in the dark. When she gathered the nerve to speak it was to state the obvious. ‘Well, we have found her.’
‘Safe and sound, just as I promised.’ In the dim light, she could see his supremely confident smile.
Belle had not been alone. But it did not seem to bother him. ‘Will you keep our secret?’
He touched her shoulder. ‘I saw nothing out of the ordinary tonight.’
‘Thank you. And thank you for your kind words as we walked.’ Perhaps relief made her foolish. Perhaps it was the moonlight. Or perhaps it was simply that she wanted to do it. But before she could stop herself, she was up on her tiptoes and leaning forward to press a kiss on his cheek.
He responded without hesitation, turning his head so their lips met. There was an instant where she might have withdrawn, pretending shock where she felt none and ending the kiss. Instead, their mouths opened on one another’s and their tongues tangled in a frenzied caress. It was everything she’d hoped it would be.
His hands took hers and lifted them, wrapping them around his neck. Then he clasped her around the waist and pulled her off the path, deeper into the undergrowth. Despite the darkness, the worry of a few moments before burned away like morning mist in the first rays of sunlight. She wanted to strip herself bare and bask in the heat of that sun until it had touched every part of her body.
His hand rose again to touch her cheek. Then it stroked down to grasp a breast and squeeze it possessively.
She whimpered with desire and writhed against him, eager to follow the moment where it led.
He answered with a shaky sigh. ‘From the first moment we met, you have been a hazard to my peace of mind, Miss Summoner.’
‘Amy,’ she whispered back.
‘Amy,’ he said and touched her lips with his again.
‘And do you value your peace?’ she asked as he rained desperate kisses down her throat.
‘I am learning to do without it,’ he said. Then he pulled away, setting her gently back on her feet. ‘But I had best not lose my common sense as well. If we are gone any longer, someone will miss us.’
She doubted the truth of that. When she had been younger and trying to shock, no one had noticed what scandal she was courting. Now, if she was gone, anyone who might care would assume she was doing some sensible thing that needed doing. No one would guess she was trading kisses in the dark with Ben Lovell. She sighed and straightened her gown. If she meant to lecture her sister on propriety, she had best not flout it herself. ‘Very well. Take me back to the pavilion, Mr Lovell.’
She paused, waiting for the invitation to use his given name.
None came.
Chapter Eleven
The next morning found Ben in the receiving room of the Summoner town house. Even though he was unobserved, he forced himself to stand at the window, facing the street as if admiring the view. Despite the purpose of the room, it was doubtful that Lord Summoner would come to him. More likely a footman would come to lead him to an office or study. In either case, he would not be caught pacing about the room like a caged animal. No hint of nervousness must spoil his first introduction with the one man in London he most wished to meet.
Assuming that it had not been spoiled all ready. The invitation had arrived with his first morning post, written by the great man himself and not some secretary or underling. But there was nothing in the brief note to indicate a purpose for the meeting.