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“That’s five items,” she said as she turned to him. He didn’t step back, so they now stood only inches away from each other. Beatrice couldn’t take a step back because her writing table was blocking her retreat. Not that she wanted a retreat, but it gave her a perfect excuse to stay as close to him as she wished.

“Very good. We’re halfway there.” His gaze intensified as it dropped to her mouth.

Beatrice bit her lower lip, feeling self-conscious. “You never told me why you had to clear your mind today and have the stuffing beaten out of you.”

“My stuffing?” He let out a chuckle, his laughing eyes meeting hers.

“Well, I assume. Judging only from your face. I thought you said you were the best pugilist in your family, second only to your officer brother?”

“Yes, I was. I am.” His gaze returned to her lips. “Perhaps I needed some ideas cleared out of my mind.”

Beatrice swallowed, her breathing growing shallow. “Did it work?”

He shook his head slowly, his gaze still on her mouth. “Not particularly.”

“Did it have something to do with last night?” Her gaze locked onto his, her eyes searching for any hint of his feelings.

He cleared his throat and tugged on his cravat, a nervous habit betraying his calm demeanor. “Which part of last night are you referencing?”

She decided to be direct, nonchalant even, despite the growing tension between them. “The one where you kissed me. Perhaps you felt guilty for your ungentlemanly behavior and decided—”

“Wait. Wait a moment.” He stepped back, his brow furrowing in confusion. His hand went to his chest, fingers digging into his waistcoat as if trying to steady his racing heart.

This wasn’t how she meant it, but she wasn’t going to back down. She straightened her posture, chin lifting as she tried to appear composed despite her turmoil. Her hands clenched slightly at her sides, a sign of the conflicting emotions churning within her. “Well, gentlemen do not sneak into ladies’ bedchambers and kiss them under the veil of darkness,” she stated firmly.

“You weren’t exactly ladylike yourself!” He pointed an accusing finger, color rising in his cheeks.

“I was upset!” She threw her hands up in exasperation.

“And I comforted you!”

“Yes, you did!” she cried.

“And I helped you cross an item off your list. I was doing everything a gentleman would do.” He crossed his arms over his chest defiantly.

She swallowed, emotions swelling inside like a rising tide. “Is that what it was? Just another gentlemanly duty?”

His breath hitched, and his eyes fixed on her mouth again, darkening with intent. He swayed toward her unconsciously, and she could feel his need to kiss her because she had that same aching need. Or perhaps it was just her imagination, because he took a swift step back, clenching his fists at his sides.

“As a gentleman, I think it is time for us to move to the next item on your list.” His voice was tight with restraint.

Beatrice closed her eyes briefly. Well, she had totally ruined that moment with her carelessness. If she’d only kept her mouth closed, perhaps he would have kissed her again. He had wanted to. She was almost certain. Almost.

She cleared her throat. “Certainly.”

He motioned to her clothing. “You shall have to change your attire.”

“To what?” She glanced at the window. “It’s the middle of the night. Where are we even going?”

“We are going for a ride.”

“We are going for a ride,” she repeated, rather stunned. “In the middle of the night.” Ah, her desired race along the Serpentine before dawn! She almost forgotten her list of items in her turmoil.

“Yes, exactly. Which means that all the lords and ladies are now leaving balls and getting tucked into beds. In the next thirty minutes, the streets will be absolutely empty. And we shall have about two hours before the sun comes up. Which is the perfect time to finish a race around the Serpentine.”

“Of course.” Beatrice frowned, thinking of the logistics of accomplishing such a feat at four o’clock in the morning when all the servants were sleeping.

“I thought you’d be pleased.”