Chapter 11
Quincy followed Sinclair out to his waiting carriage and climbed into the dim interior. She fell back against the squabs next to Sinclair as Elliott started the horses. She ought to move to the empty seat. The evening was already cool, and she felt the warmth radiating from his body only a few inches from her own. She ought to move.
She stayed. Though having his bulk beside her held an element of risk, of the forbidden, it was just too pleasant to pass up. Couldn’t she just enjoy the moment, with no thought for what the future might hold?
She glanced out the window. Carriages drove past in the opposite direction, streetlamps alternately revealing and hiding the crests on the doors. Sinclair’s carriage door bore his family crest, too. Here she sat, beside an earl of the realm.
