Discovery of Desire by Susanne Lord

definitely a possibility.” Mr. Mayhew leaned back, stretching a long, thick arm along the back of the settee behind her. She leaned away as far as she might in an effort to keep her countenance.
    The nearness of his body heated her, and there was something electric tingling under her skin with every look, every low, reverberating bass chord in her ear. It was the oddest feeling. It was…attraction.
    She was attracted.
    Oh no.
    His hard thigh shifted to rest against hers but he seemed unaware of the contact. “The fastest way of knowing where she is, is with them gents in there.” He slapped the roll of papers in the palm of his hand and rose, the settee creaking with a sound like relief. “Wish me luck.” He winked at her.
    For the sixth time.
    â€œWait, we should—” Thomas reached to stop him, but Mr. Mayhew was already striding through the arched doors to the conservatory.
    Thomas wiped a hand over his face. Was that a habit of his? Was he easily irritated?
    â€œThis is not how things are done,” he said. “Especially with men like this.”
    No, it wasn’t proper. Not at all. And he didn’t even have an invitation.
    They followed Mr. Mayhew’s path and stood in a corner of the glittering conservatory. He was easy to find. His head towered over the others, and he was talking to an older gentleman dressed in tailored black and white. The man might have been a director of East India by the careful arrangement of his watch fob strung across his well-padded stomach and his elegant stick—which he held clutched in front of him as Mr. Mayhew advanced, pressing the poster at the man until he accepted it.
    Mr. Mayhew swung about and caught the next man in sight, his poster already thrust forward.
    â€œWill you excuse me?” Thomas said. “I really must stop him.”
    â€œWhat will you do?” She cringed at her schoolmarmish tone. “That is…Mr. Mayhew is only attempting to gain information of his sister.”
    â€œAnd perhaps allowances will be made because of it, but men of this rank—well, tonight they’re rather intent on making the acquaintance of the newly arrived ladies.”
    Mr. Mayhew’s posters were held by half a dozen men or more, most giving it no more than a second’s glance. And the men now pointedly kept their backs to him if he approached. One poster already littered the floor.
    â€œYes, I see,” she whispered.
    Mr. Mayhew saw the discarded poster and bent to pick it up. The confused look on his face when he rose stabbed her heart.
    â€œPlease, Thomas, go and help him. He’s—”
    Thomas looked at his sleeve—where she had grabbed him.
    What am I doing? She removed her hand, stunned by her reaction. “I…sorry—” Oh God, she’d forgotten. She was under close scrutiny. She must be more biddable, more—
    â€œOf course. At your service, Mina.” Thomas bowed his head and marched to the rescue.
    But her heart was pounding. For the first time that evening, she had seen Thomas’s eyes very clearly behind his spectacles.
    And the doubt within them.

Five
    â€œMight not have been the best time.” Seth didn’t look at Tom’s face. At least Mina wasn’t with him.
    â€œTried to tell you,” Tom said.
    â€œI know it.” Seth shrugged, but it didn’t lessen his embarrassment. Bloody Company men. They never gave him the time in London, and they were the same in India. Not even when he’d made them tens of thousands of pounds. And not even now, when a woman’s life was concerned.
    And he’d started the night excited—happier than he’d been in months—over all the help he thought he’d get. Damn stupid of him.
    â€œThese men care for nothing tonight except the Fishing Fleet,” Tom said.
    â€œThe what?”
    Tom pointed with his chin into the conservatory. “A ship full of ladies, fishing for