In the House of Secrets

Chapter Twenty-Two | Beckett and Heaven

"See?"

Penelope walked several paces in front of Beckett in the hallway. He allowed her to get further ahead of him on the way back to their chambers because he did not think it wise for him to be within any confined space with Penelope at the moment. He had barely survived their horse ride.

Their surveillance of the estate had not resulted in much. Unless a family or two of squirrels were considered suspicious, they had indeed come up short.

Beckett could not decide how to feel about it. He knew he should be disappointed; continuing lack of evidence of Lawton's treason meant he had to stay longer in Southampton.

But...disappointment was not the emotion running through his veins at this moment.

"See what, my lady?"

Penelope scowled over her shoulder at his refusal to use her given name. He considered it payback for her use of Colonel earlier.

"See how I am adept at riding? I am a perfectly capable woman, Colonel." Walking into her bedchamber, she emphasized his title in a way that annoyed him. Damn her. "Perhaps one day you shall let me show you more."

So many words came out of her mouth that Beckett wished she hadn't said. Starting adept at riding and ending with show you more. His blood heated past the point of boiling.

Though he knew it was unwise, he stepped after her into the chamber and leveled Penelope with a stare. "Believe me, Lady Hutton. I should love for you to show me all the ways in which you are capable."

Admittedly he had been thinking about it for days.

He had been thinking a great deal about what might have happened if he hadn't left Penelope that night. She hadn't wanted him to. What she wanted was for him to take off her dress.

Fuck, he wanted to take off her dress. Right now, he longed to peel that goddamn riding habit off her skin.

Her eyes lit up with the invitation that he'd muttered. "Is that so?" she questioned. "You would love it?"

The moment sat between them, heavy, as Beckett deliberated. He should lie, but watching Penelope's face fall would likely kill off a tiny part of him. It was why he'd chased after her through the manor and given her exactly what she desired. He hated how soft he was becoming, hated how it was her fault.

Penelope grabbed onto the bedpost as she waited for Beckett's response. She breathed deeply, and he could almost feel the push and pull of it. The room stilled. Her eyes stayed on his, steady but hooded. Lust-filled.

Beckett stared back, and there was no doubt of what she could likely see in his gaze.

Lying would be futile.

"I would love it," he admitted, his voice like gravel. "I would love for you to show me."

The shift in the air was immediate, and Beckett knew he was in trouble. Because if Penelope kissed him right now, he would not be able to fight it. He'd welcome it.