She sauntered over to Garrett—as well as one could saunter when one’s ankle was doing poorly. She felt more feminine than she ever had in her life. Feminine and romantic. The gown was lovely, the room was cast in shadows, the man was handsome and dashing and … she wanted to kiss him. The thought made her shiver.

“How did you get away from your mother?” He took her hand and helped her to sit next to him.

“I told her my ankle was hurting and I needed to prop it upon pillows. Mama said she’d send a servant to check on me, but Lucy volunteered.”

“What about Mrs. Bunbury?” he asked, his mouth quirking into a sensual grin.

Jane laughed. “Don’t worry. My chaperone is rubbish. Believe me, we’ll be completely safe from her.”

Garrett’s lips twisted into a beautiful smile. “I suppose we cannot expect too much out of her in that she doesn’t exist.”

He slid across the velvet seat until his thigh touched Jane’s. “You look absolutely stunning in that gown,” he breathed. His warm breath caressed her neck. She shuddered.

“Thank you.”

“I may like it better than the blue one and I hardly thought that possible.”

“Thank you.” Her good leg shook furiously beneath the silvery folds, but she refused to pluck. Be bold. Be brave.

She took a shaky breath. “What should we talk about? Portraits?”

His hand moved to her shoulder. He lightly stroked the column of her neck with one finger. Jane closed her eyes. She couldn’t think. His touch did funny things to her insides.

“Seeing as how you’ve locked the door,” he whispered. “I was thinking of something else.”

“Something … el—else?”

“A lesson.”

A shiver chased its way down her spine. She opened her eyes again and focused them on him. “A lesson?”

“Yes.” His lips hovered near her ear. “You like to learn new things, do you not?”

She turned her head. Their mouths were only inches apart. She watched his lips. “I do. But what can you teach me?”

His other hand came up to rub her opposite shoulder. “Ah, you may think you know everything, but believe me when I tell you there is a thing or two that a supposed rake could show you.”

Her breath came in short pants. “Is that right?”

“Yes.”

Her head tipped back. “By all means, then, show me.”

He carefully reached behind her ear and unhooked the wire bar of her spectacles. Facing her, he put his other hand behind her opposite ear and pushed that one up too. He carefully pulled the spectacles away from her face. For a moment, Jane felt naked, vulnerable.

He set the spectacles on the table in front of the settee and turned back to face her. His thumb rubbed across the underside of her eye.

“I like your freckles,” he said.

Her throat went dry. “Oh, they’re just—”

“Charming,” he finished.