Chapters (30)
He bent down to kiss her cheek. ‘I am relieved to hear this.’
She smiled as his lips tickled her skin. ‘I confess that I do not understand what it is about a red coat which makes young women lose their minds, but it seems that a tricolour cockade can do the same.’ Jane reached to undo his cuffs and considered telling him about Lieutenant Segal’s outrageous flirtation, but Vincent moved away to the window.
‘Tricolour cockade, eh? Interesting fashion choice. How long are these officers in town, do you know? I am certain that there must be a ball. It is impossible for officers to be in town without the young ladies demanding a ball.’
‘I little doubt that you are right, but I do not remember anyone noting their departure date, so perhaps they are to be here for long enough that time is not a concern, or perhaps they will be gone so soon that there is no time to plan a ball.’ She followed him to the window and wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning against his back. The difference was yet small, but already she could tell a change in the way they fit together. ‘Would I be able to persuade you to go to a ball?’
‘Possibly.’ He stifled a yawn, poorly. ‘But at the moment, I need to write some letters before I fall asleep standing.’
‘Should you like me to rub your shoulders while you write?’
Vincent drew in a breath as if to speak, and let it out again unvoiced. Removing her hands gently from his waist, he turned and lifted them, kissing first one, then the other. ‘That will make me fall asleep all the faster. Go to bed, and I will join you shortly.’
There was a stillness or a reserve in his face, which spoke volumes more than did his tender caresses. This distance between them, which came and went for reasons she could not penetrate, had returned. Jane only knew that he kept something from her. ‘What could be so urgent when you can barely keep your feet?’
‘I owe Skiffy a letter.’ Vincent sat at his desk and rolled the glass Sphère under his palm. ‘If I wait until I am not tired, I shall never write it.’
‘And this is part of what concerns me. I do not like seeing you this exhausted, and have serious concerns about where it will lead. You must rest.’
‘Then let me write this letter in peace.’ He saw her chagrin and immediately softened. ‘I am sorry. I did not mean to snap. Only I am weary, and really must write this.’
Jane nodded, having done her best to protest, and withdrew. She could not help but notice that, though he sat at the table and played with the ball of glass, Vincent did not unlock his writing desk while the door to their bedroom was still open.