Unlocked by Courtney Milan

forehead against hers. “In an hour or so, the servants will stir, and I shouldn’t like you to become the object of gossip. We’d best get you back.”
    Back. It was only two streets away. But her house seemed to belong to another lifetime.
    For just one moment, she imagined herself staying there in his arms. The consequences seemed insubstantial. The gossip wouldn’t matter so much, would it? It was easy to avoid all thought of impending reality with his arms around her. She screwed her eyes shut and burrowed against him. “Don’t want to.”
    She could almost feel him smile against her cheek. “I’ll seek out your father on the morrow.” Another smile. “I suppose I mean later today. We’ll have the rest of our lives to hold each other.”
    She lifted her head slowly at that. It wasn’t morning that dawned; it was a lifetime of this—not just kisses and warmth and the feel of his arms around her, but of finally,
finally
feeling safe. She’d come home.
    “Yes.” She wondered at the words. “We’ll have that.” Certainty felt new to her, so fragile that she feared it would steal away like fog if he so much as lit a candle.
    But there was no need for illumination, not in the dark gray before dawn. He helped her dress, found her cloak, and then slipped into his own clothing. It wasn’t so far back—a ten-minute walk with his arm about her for warmth. He paused when they reached her doorstep.
    “You’ve a way in, I presume?”
    She nodded.
    He reached out and tipped her chin up. Nobody was about. Still, when he kissed her in the open street, it felt like a proclamation shouted to the skies. Perhaps it was her imagination that the night lifted and the sky lightened. Perhaps it was him. He lifted his head from hers and drew a line down the side of her face.
    “Elaine,” he said, “I—”
    But his head shot up. A door had opened across the street. And then…
    “Westfeld?”
    Slowly, Elaine turned. She hadn’t needed to see the speaker to know who it was. Lady Cosgrove stood on her own doorstep, her eyes wide in disbelief.
    “What is she doing here?” Elaine heard herself ask.
    Lady Cosgrove’s eyes grew larger and more murderous. “I
live
here,” she hissed, starting across the street with long, swift strides. “Do you suppose I would be oblivious to a matter that concerned my own cousin’s welfare? Do you suppose me so stupid as to let you inveigle him into a match so far beneath him? Truly, Evan, it’s a good thing you
consulted
me, because—”
    “You
told
her?” The words slipped out of Elaine’s mouth before she could think them through. “How
could
you?”
    His hands bit into her shoulders. His face was gray, washed of all color. He took a step back as if she’d slapped him.
    And…and she had. Just not with the palm of her hand. His lips pressed into a thin white line. He pulled away from her and turned to his cousin.
    “Diana,” he said tightly, “have the goodness to talk directly to me, if you are going to discuss my welfare. And Elaine…” He paused, took a deep breath.
    She winced, waiting for the words she knew she deserved.
If you don’t trust me now, there’s no point in proceeding any further
.
    But he didn’t say anything about the hurt in his eyes, and somehow his silence cut all the deeper.
    “We’ll talk later,” he said. “Now go, before the servants wake.”

Chapter Ten
    “A note for you, my lady.”
    The folded paper that her maid slid into Elaine’s palm seemed as light and flimsy as her whisper.
    Mary didn’t need to say that the missive had arrived via a clandestine route. Had it come by way of the front door, a footman would have brought it up. But then, had it come via the front door, news that Elaine was corresponding with a bachelor might have spread about town.
    Hardly the worst gossip that could circulate, after last night.
    She could be ruined. Oh, it wouldn’t herald a complete end to her good reputation. Evan wouldn’t let anything so