A portrait of you. A miniature. Something she could put in a locket and keep near her heart. “I don’t know. I’ll have to think on it.”

“I’m glad you came this afternoon. I enjoy seeing you away from the club.”

It made their being together seem of a greater purpose.

“I wish I could do more with you,” he said quietly.

“Widows aren’t allowed to give out or accept invitations, not for a year. It wouldn’t do for us to be seen gadding about.”

He moved nearer, his legs brushing against her skirts, his hand folding around her neck, his fingers skimming along her spine at her nape. “I’ve been trying to think of someplace I could take you.”

“Like the theater? Have you ever been to a play?”

“Once. When I was younger, about twelve, we all saved up and took our mum to a play on Drury Lane. I enjoyed it, but not enough to spend my coins on it again. At least not then. I could take you to a penny gaff. It’s unlikely any nobs would be there.”

“But we can’t guarantee some young lord isn’t up to some mischief.”

“No.” He lowered his lips to the underside of her jaw, and with a sigh, she dropped her head back. “There was a time I could have taken you to Gillie’s pub but now that she’s married to a duke, lords are always dropping by.”

“A pity.”

“I can’t take you on a stroll through a park. It seems all I can do is take you to bed.” Regret and sorrow laced his voice.

Guilt pricked her conscience because she couldn’t offer him more.

Chapter 22

A little over two weeks later, Aiden strode into his private chambers and saw Lena gazing out the window, a subdued excitement vibrating off her. They had settled into a routine: she’d let herself into his lodgings and a footman would discreetly alert Aiden to her arrival. Shortly thereafter, he would join her here. Sometimes they’d have dinner and share stories from their day or he’d tell her about changes he was planning for the club or she’d share the gossip an occasional visitor brought her.

He wanted to expand their world beyond these chambers, but he was very much aware that even if her mourning period didn’t dictate their seclusion, her disgrace at being seen consorting with him would.

Three of his siblings had landed themselves noble spouses, but none of them had families dependent upon them maintaining a reputation above reproach. None of them had sisters whose future well-being and prospects for a good marriage could be destroyed because of their choices. None of them had stared at the possibility of losing so very much.

As he neared, she turned away from the window and gave him a tremulous smile, tears welling. “I’m with child.”