Patience joined him in the billiard room half an hour later.
Blowing aside the fine errant curls tangling with her lashes, she met his gaze. "I now know more about tatting than I could possibly need to know, even should I live to be a hundred."
Vane grinned. And leaned over the table.
Patience grimaced. "I take it there was nothing there?"
"Nothing." Vane lined up his next shot. "No one's using Edith's tatting bag as a store, presumably because, once something goes in, it might never be found again."
Patience stifled a giggle. She watched as Vane shifted, lining up the ball. As at Bellamy Hall, when she'd watched from the conservatory, he'd taken off his coat. Under his tight waistcoat, muscles rippled, then tensed. He clipped the ball neatly, sending it rolling into the pocket opposite.
Vane straightened. He looked at Patience, and noted her fixed gaze. Lifting his cue from the table, he sauntered closer. And stopped directly in front of her.
She blinked, then drew in a quick breath and dragged her gaze up to his face.
Vane captured her gaze. After a moment, he murmured, "I foresee certain complications."
"Oh?" Patience's gaze had already drifted from his, fastening instead on his lips.
Leaning
more heavily on the cue, Vane let his gaze roam her face. "Henry and Edmond." The curves of her lips caught and held his attention. "They're getting restless."
"Ah." The tip of Patience's tongue appeared between her lips, then delicately traced them.
Vane hauled in a desperate breath. And leaned closer. "I can hold their reins during the day, but the evenings…" He angled his head. "Could be a problem."
His words died away as Patience stretched upward.
Their lips touched, brushed, then locked. Both stopped breathing. Vane's hands closed tight about the billiard cue; Patience shivered. And sank into the kiss.
"He must be in the billard room."
Vane's head jerked up; he swore and shifted, screening Patience from the door. She scooted farther into the shadows beyond the table, where her blush would be less visible. Along with the heat in her eyes. The door swung open and Vane was potting a ball with nonchalant ease.
"There you are!" Henry ambled into the room.
Followed by Gerrard and Edmond.
"Seen enough sights for one day." Henry rubbed his hands together. "Perfect time for a quick game."
"Not for me, I fear." Coolly, Vane handed his cue to Gerrard, and resisted the urge to throttle them all. He reached for his coat. "I only dallied to tell you I'll come by at three. I'm expected elsewhere for lunch."
"Oh. All right." Henry cocked a brow at Edmond. "You game?"
Edmond, having exchanged a smile with Patience, shrugged. "Why not?"
Gerrard, with a nod for his sister, joined them. Her pulse thundering, still breathless, Patience preceded Vane as he left the room.
She heard the door shut behind them, but didn't stop. She didn't dare. She led the way into the front hall; only then did she turn and, with what calm she could muster, face Vane.
He looked down at her. His lips twisted wryly. "I meant what I said about Henry and Edmond. I've agreed to take Gerrard, Edgar, and the General to White's this evening. Henry and Edmond don't want to go, and we couldn't keep them in sight if they did. Any chance you could call them to heel?"
The look Patience cast him spoke volumes. "I'll see what I can do."
"If you can keep them on their leashes, I'll be forever grateful."
Patience studied the glint in his grey eyes and wondered how to best use such indebtedness. Just what she might have him do. Then she realized her gaze had refastened on his lips. She blinked and nodded curtly. "I'll try."