SWINDON, APRIL 30th, 1872
I turn around, feeling my face burning with heat. I should not have seen that. It is wrong. We are not married. Oh heavens. What am I babbling about? It is not like I was pushing myself away from him when things got heated in my dreams. But this isn’t a dream. This is very real.
He doesn’t say anything, making me feel even more embarrassed. I can hear some shuffling behind my back, but I am not sure what he is doing. And I don’t want to take a look either. I have seen plenty before. His whole treasure.
“You can turn around now,” he suddenly tells me, making me flinch in surprise. I clear my throat, trying not to be so awkward, but I can’t help myself. I don’t want to put him in an uncomfortable position once again.
“Are you sure?” I ask, realizi
