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when you were dead, whenI believed there was no hope of ever . . .” My throat tightened, and I swallowed hard before I continued. “Time has so generously provided us with a second chance, Lucien. Let’s not make the same mistakes again, shall we?”
    He bent his head to mine. “You and I are not a mistake, Charmian.”
    I never felt particularly feminine or small until Dredmore kissed me. In the past, such kisses had been part of his annoyingly regular attempts to seduce me, and knowing that they were for that expressed purpose had given me enough resolve to resist. He would always kiss well; I was sure his mouth had been fashioned for exactly this sort of activity. He definitely still knew what he was about, coaxing my lips apart and tasting me with his wickedly talented tongue. But as he filled his hands with my hair, I realized he was not being at all deliberate about it.
    This, too, had changed.
    I could feel the pounding of his heart beneath my palms, and trembled along with the unsteadiness of his fingers. He made a sound I’d never heard, or perhaps it came from me. I could not fathom it. He was all over me, arms folding, lips caressing, and the feel and the smell and the taste of him drugged my senses and slowly unraveled the tight and tangled thing hammering beneath my own breast.
    â€œStay with me.” His murmured incantation whispered across my cheek as he chased it, trailing more gentle caresses across my burning skin. “Only for tonight.”
    If only it would be, I might have agreed, and in that moment I despised the pudding he had made of my own will.
    Under my skirts my knees shook as I drew back. “You have an editor to bespell, Lucien.” My voice wobbled, too, and I cleared my throat. “I must go.”
    He held on to me, and for a moment I feared he would sweep me up into his arms and carry me off to some dark room where I would be spending this and many other nights. I did not anticipate resisting any of that. Beneath his garments his muscles tightened, and then he set me fully away from him to ring for Winslow.
    His butler must have had an ear to the door, for he arrived an instant later with my cloak.
    â€œConnell is waiting to drive you back to the city, miss.” He glanced at his master. “Shall I escort the young lady out, milord?”
    Dredmore looked ready to throttle both of us. “We will continue our discussion tomorrow, Charmian.”
    Now he was threatening, thank God. A hostile Dredmore I could easily manage. “Deal with the editor and find out who sent that parcel to me,” I countered, “and then we can have a chat.”
    Winslow dutifully ushered me out of the mansion. “Will you be returning to your office, or your home, miss?”
    â€œNeither yet.” Once outside I walked to the front of the coach. “Connell, do you know the Eagle’s Nest?” He gave me a jaded look. “I see that you do. That is my destination. Winslow, your pantry is safe once more.”
    â€œUntil your next visit, miss.” He helped me into the coach. “Er, you are aware that you are having Connell take you to a house of ill-repute.”
    â€œYou mean a brothel,” I corrected. “Oh, yes, Winslow. My best friend owns it.”
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    I rarely visited the Eagle’s Nest after dark. My best friend, Carina Eagle, did conduct the bulk of her business at night, and I didn’t care to be mistaken as one of her employees. Given that she operated the most popular brothel in Rumsen, her clients could be forgiven for assuming any female on the premises was there to trade the pleasures of the flesh for their coin. To avoid disillusioning them I pulled my hood up over my head and presented myself at the side entrance.
    A slot in the door opened a few seconds after my knock. “No deliveries after six—oh, sorry, Miss Kit.” The slot closed, the door