“You’re a lord,” she said at last, “while I’m a simple poor woman. Who’s ever heard of a friendship betwixt two so different?”

“Are we so different really? Perhaps we are more alike than we know.”

She mulled over his words, which were like spicy warm ale, heating a deep place in her stomach.

“Since we are to be friends,” he went on, “we shall do what we can to divert each other’s attention from the peril at hand.”

“How’s that, sir?” Before he could answer, she became keenly conscious of the way their bodies fused together. She told herself the intimacy was for the sake of safety. He was keeping her warm and protecting her from the storm and danger all around them. Even so, she pictured him shifting so that his lips touched hers for the tiniest of kisses. That was all.

Such a kiss would certainly help to divert their attention from the storm.

But just as vividly as she pictured the shared moment of affection, she pictured Twiggy in the stairwell, the rich landlord’s arms wrapped around her, their bodies pressed together, and their lips intertwined.

“He’s just a friend, Mercy,” Twiggy had told her later. “That’s all. Just a friend.”

Mercy ducked her head away from Joseph. She didn’t want a kiss. Didn’t want intimacy. Didn’t want to chance any affection. The last thing she wanted was to become like Twiggy, dependent upon a man, falling into his arms for comfort, and having babies every year. She would be different. She was stronger than that.

“If you tell me a secret about yourself, Mercy, then I shall do likewise.”

“I’ve no secrets, sir.”

“I implore you to call me Joseph.”

She hesitated.

“Please.” His lips brushed against the hollow of her ear as he whispered the word. His plea reverberated in her body to her bones, turning them to liquid. The curve of his mouth and his warm breath were enough to make her want to arch up into him, to bury her own lips into his neck.

She swallowed the desire and instead nodded.

“Then say it,” he said.

“Say what?”

“My name.”

“Joseph,” she whispered.

His fingers at her back tightened, and his breathing turned ragged.

She wanted to speak his name again, knowing that it pleased him, that somehow she had power over this man—although she didn’t understand how that could be.

Just as before, he was the first to break the connection. He let his hand fall away from her back and lifted his face so that his mouth was against her hair now. “Tell me secrets from your childhood, something no one else knows.”