A Passion for Pleasure(113)
Unless she dared to create a different outcome.
Her stomach tightened with nerves. She turned to study her reflection in the mirror. Her dress flowed over sweeping petticoats that emphasized the tapered curve of her waist. The rich, green crêpe de chine matched her eyes and contrasted well with the paleness of her skin and brown hair.
The bodice, however, dipped around her bare shoulders and showed an expanse of skin that Talia was unaccustomed to revealing. She had always worn modest evening gowns, particularly after her mother’s scandalous affair had prompted gossips to doubt Talia’s own virtue.
She pulled a silk shawl around her shoulders to conceal the swell of her bosom, which seemed rather prominent due to the heart-shaped neckline. She took a breath and gave her reflection a firm nod.
While she had questioned the wisdom of her bold approach numerous times since learning of James’s impending departure, the time was long overdue for him to see her as a desirable woman rather than the Hall brothers’ younger sister.
She glanced at the clock. She had to do this before her father and Sebastian came in for supper, and before Alexander and his sweetheart, Lydia, returned from their excursion to the village. Talia couldn’t help smiling at the thought of Alexander, her rigid eldest brother who had so obviously been conquered by Lydia and still didn’t know it yet.
Talia was determined to have the same effect on James Forester, except he would most certainly know she had conquered him.
Spurred by the thought that this was her last chance to be alone with him, as they were all returning to London tomorrow, she hurried downstairs. The housekeeper emerged from the drawing room and gave Talia a pleasant smile.
“Lord Castleford missed his tea, my lady, so I left a fresh pot and a platter of cakes.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Danvers.”
The older woman nodded and puffed toward the kitchen. Talia stepped into the drawing room. Her breath caught in her throat.
James stood beside the fire, glancing through a sheaf of papers. The crackling flames cast his tall, muscular figure in brilliant illumination. His overlong brown hair curled around his ears and the top of his collar, the dark strands etched in reddish-gold light. Shadows danced over the masculine planes of his features, the slanting cheekbones, sharp nose, and thick-lashed eyes that Talia saw in both her waking and nighttime dreams.
“Hello, poppet.” James glanced up and smiled, the warmth in his eyes mitigating the hard edges of his jaw.
The nickname, which Talia had always enjoyed due to its affectionate undercurrent, now reminded her all too forcefully of his indulgent view of her.
“You’ve passed a pleasant afternoon, I take it?” James asked.
His deep voice rolled over her like sunlight. “Yes…yes, thank you, James.”
Talia moved to sit on the sofa, ensuring her shawl sufficiently covered her bare skin. She poured the tea, then watched as James walked to put the papers on the desk.
She would never tire of looking at him. She had memorized all his unconscious movements over the years—the way he rubbed the back of his neck, folded his long body into a chair, curved his hand around a teacup or glass of brandy.
A restless energy radiated from him, evident in his utter lack of idleness. He paced when he spoke, tapped his fingers on his knee when he was seated. He smiled often, laughed, and made broad gestures with his hands as if words alone could not express everything he wanted to say.
No one except Talia knew all the subtleties of how James Forester moved and behaved. She was certain of that.
“Lists of the expedition members and transportation plans,” he explained, nodding toward the papers.
Unease knotted through Talia. James sat across from her and studied the tea tray, which was filled with a variety of breads, cakes, muffins, and tarts.
“You’re leaving in the summer then?” Talia asked, handing him a cup of tea.
“Next month, actually.”
“N-next month? So soon?”
He reached for a slice of plum cake. “I thought we’d be delayed because we had to secure a new medical officer, but we’ve managed to book passage on board the Ballarat, which leaves from Southampton in mid-June.”
“Alexander said you were going to New South Wales.” It sounded like the end of the world.
“Yes. The Royal Geographical Society requested a survey of the territory, including several rivers. I submitted a plan of exploration in November, but didn’t receive word until recently that the governor had sanctioned it. So preparations have been a bit hasty.”