“Mistress, I would make you a dozen such gowns to display your beauty!” Then, the playful tone left his voice and it dropped, becoming husky. “I would you might think me worthy to provide for you in all matters.” He crossed the room and placed his hands on my waist, drew me gently toward him, and kissed me. I will not say I know what would have happened then if his skin, when it brushed mine, had not been so hot that I pulled back. “But you are fevered!” I exclaimed, reaching, as mothers will, to lay a hand on his forehead. Thus was a moment lost, for better or worse.
