November 1913

Having a secret lover was wonderful, Mary decided. It was wonderful, but it was not easy.

It was wonderful because of the way Tom made her feel, both physically and emotionally. She'd never experienced anything like it and it was heady stuff. But it was difficult because she couldn't let anyone see how happy she was, how happy this clandestine relationship made her, and it was getting harder and harder to hide that.

Since they'd taken things a step further in the bedroom, she found she could not get enough of him. She longed to be with him, to touch him, to have him touch her, to spend every minute of every day with him, but he was a working man with obligations and expectations to fulfil. He couldn't just drop everything and do whatever she wanted whenever she wanted. Frustratingly, no matter how much she wanted it - and she was sure he did too - they had not had a chance to have a repeat of that wonderful afternoon they'd spent together in his bed beginning to explore each other's bodies.

But the expansion of their relationship into the physical realm had brought more problems. Now, every time she saw him, she had to physically hold back from touching him. She found she wanted to touch him all the time, even in small ways such as resting her hand on his arm, touching his shoulder, innocent touches, never mind anything else. But, of course, that was completely impossible given the disparity in their situations. An earl's daughter simply did not go around touching servants willy-nilly.

Plus, now they had been sexually intimate with each other, she was finding it almost impossible to hide her attraction to him. Just the sight of him made her smile and go weak at the knees. And she found herself getting hot under the collar whenever she recalled those moments in his bed where he'd touched her so wonderfully and brought that surprisingly intense shivery feeling crashing through her body. Several times, she'd lost herself in the memory of that and then been forced to lie when one or other of her family asked her what she was thinking about that had her smiling so much.

No, having a secret lover was not easy. But Mary wouldn't change it for the world – except maybe to turn Tom into a gentleman instead of a servant.

That was the only fly in the ointment as far as she was concerned. If he was of a suitable rank, she would have been more than happy to accept him as a suitor, to let him court her, to let the world know he was special to her. But he wasn't a gentleman. He was a servant.

And nobody was going to accept him as a suitor for an earl's daughter. That bald, unpalatable fact was one that Mary kept circling back to even though she tried her hardest not to think about it. It was vexing.

Glancing around the empty servants' hall, Daisy realised this was the opportunity she'd been waiting for to speak to Anna just as Thomas had asked her.

The maid was sitting at the table, deftly sewing buttons onto a skirt. For once, nobody else was around, all the staff engaged elsewhere. Even Mrs Patmore was sitting quietly absorbed in making lists of the food stuffs they would need to order for the Christmas period.

Daisy made a pot of tea and poured three cups, taking one to Mrs Patmore and then carrying the other two through from the kitchen to where Anna was working. She set the cups down, a biscuit balanced in each saucer.

'I thought you could do with a brew,' she said with a small smile.

Anna looked up and returned her smile. 'Thank you, Daisy, that's very kind of you.'

'I filched a couple of biscuits too,' the kitchen maid confessed. 'Don't tell, Mrs Patmore.'

'Won't you get into trouble?'

Daisy shrugged. 'I made them. And I made a few more than usual, so I don't think they'll be missed. And you said the young ladies never eat them anyway.'

'No, they don't.' Anna picked up her biscuit and bit into it. 'It's a shame. They are good biscuits, Daisy; they don't know what they're missing.'

Daisy smiled, pleased with the compliment. 'Do you mind if I sit with you for a bit?'

'Of course, I don't,' Anna said, smiling warmly at the young kitchen maid.

Pulling a chair out, Daisy sat down, picking up her tea and taking a sip. 'Everyone else must be busy.'

Anna nodded. 'There's always lots to be done at this time of the year what with all the preparations for Christmas. It's only going to get busier the closer we get to the festivities. That's why it's nice to take advantage when we get a few minutes of peace and quiet.'

Daisy nodded, wondering how to bring the conversation around to Mr Branson. She didn't really want to come straight out and ask Anna if she was walking out with the chauffeur. Truth be told, she didn't really think she was.

Since Thomas had asked her for her help, she'd taken it upon herself to watch Anna and Mr Branson whenever she could. Although they were friendly with each other, she'd yet to see anything that suggested a deeper connection. Privately, she thought Thomas' sixpence was safe and Miss O'Brien would be handing money over to him instead. But now she had to find a way to wangle confirmation out of Anna without arousing her suspicions.

Daisy flailed around, trying to think of a way to subtly bring the subject of Mr Branson into their conversation, but she was coming up blank despite racking her brain.

'Oh, that cup of tea is most welcome, Daisy,' Anna said, picking up her cup and wrapping her fingers under the base of it for a few seconds. 'My fingers were getting a bit cold there.'

'Nothing like a good cup of tea for warming you up,' Daisy said, suddenly seeing a way to mention Mr Branson. 'I expect it's a lot colder out in the garage.'

Anna slid her companion a surprised sideways glance. 'Yes, I suppose it must be.'

'Mr Branson must be really chilly,' Daisy continued, watching Anna for a reaction.

'I'm sure he'll be all right,' Anna replied, stifling a small, amused smile.

'Do you think he'd like a flask of tea?'

'Perhaps he would at that,' Anna said, the corners of her lips twitching. 'Do you have a little fancy for Mr Branson, Daisy?'

'Me?' Daisy squeaked, shocked and surprised that Anna might think that.

'Yes.'

'No! Why?'

'Because you seem very concerned about his welfare,' Anna said, giving the young kitchen maid a kind smile.

'No! No! I… no!' Daisy squawked. 'I… thought… well…'

'Thought what?' Anna asked, still amused. Behind her, the sound of footsteps and the tap of a cane came down the corridor towards the servants' hall, signifying John Bates was on his way. She knew what without a shadow of a doubt.

'You and Mr Branson! That you… well, maybe you… and him… and maybe you're… because he's nice and all that, but… no, not me, but… well, are you?'

Anna stared at her, surprise all over her face. 'Am I what?'

'Walking out with Mr Branson,' Daisy said awkwardly, realising too late she'd made a complete hash of this.

The footsteps ceased and Anna looked up to see Mr Bates standing in the doorway, his face serious, his eyes fixed on her, apparently waiting for her to answer Daisy's bizarre question.

'No, I'm not,' she said firmly, returning her gaze to the red-faced kitchen maid. 'What on earth would make you think that?'

'Erm, well, he's… you're... you're friendly with him and he's… well, he's quite good-looking, so I thought maybe… you and... but… and then Thomas… he said… oh, er, nothing, never mind,' Daisy rambled, looking more and more embarrassed and ready to kick herself for mentioning Thomas.

Anna narrowed her eyes, latching onto that. 'Thomas what?'

'What?' Daisy squeaked, looking both guilty and flustered.

'You mentioned Thomas. Did he have anything to do with this? You asking me this question,' Anna asked, every fibre of her being aware of the silent presence of John Bates watching this exchange.

'Er, well, er…' Daisy muttered, glancing nervously towards the steps leading upstairs.

'Daisy,' Anna said, a warning in her voice.

'Er, well, he asked me to find out if you were walking out with Mr Branson because Miss O'Brien thinks you are and she bet him sixpence that it were true,' Daisy blurted out, caving under the pressure of the intense look Anna was giving her.

'Right. Well, I'm not. There's nothing between me and Mr Branson except friendship. Not that it's anyone's business, especially not Thomas and Miss O'Brien's,' Anna said, nodding her head, trying not to sneak a glance at Mr Bates to see his reaction to this statement.

'No, right, yes, of course,' Daisy gabbled, reaching for her tea, and swallowing it all in one burning gulp. 'Well, best get on, then. Things to do. Afore Mrs Patmore has my hide for dallying.'

She stood, picked up her cup and swiftly began to make her way towards the kitchen.

Anna watched her go, wondering why Thomas and Miss O'Brien would be betting on the state of the relationship between herself and Tom Branson. Suddenly, it came to her that they weren't really interested in her, it was him and his love life they were interested in knowing more about. And that meant that they were sniffing about in dangerous territory, getting closer to his and Lady Mary's secret. Perhaps they even thought they knew something about it. She needed to discreetly warn both her mistress and Tom as soon as possible.

John Bates lowered himself onto the seat opposite her, effortlessly drawing her attention to him.

'Good afternoon, Anna,' he said, giving her that smile that made her heart trip. 'Is Thomas making mischief again?'

'Yes, I think he is,' she said, returning his smile.

'Not that Mr Branson isn't a very nice man. Any woman would be lucky to have his attention,' Mr Bates said, a faint hint of a question in his voice.

'Yes, they would. But not me,' she said firmly leaving no room for misinterpretation.

Mr Bates dipped his head slightly, a tiny smile hovering on his lips. Anna allowed herself a small smile of her own and picked up her sewing again.

Mary drank in the sight of Tom waiting by the motor as she walked out of the Abbey. He looked edible, she thought to herself, perfectly enticing. She'd like to kiss him all over, every inch of his body.

'My mother is on her way, Branson,' she said, loud enough for Thomas to hear at the front door as she took Tom's hand and ducked into the back seat. She seated herself on the leather before she spoke again, lowering her voice, pitching it for Tom's ears only. 'You look very handsome today.'

Standing by the door, Tom fought not to smile. Unable to reply with Thomas within earshot, he shot her a glance without moving his head.

'I'd like to watch you take all those clothes off,' Mary murmured sotto voce, her boldness fuelled by the raging desire boiling through her.

Tom didn't reply, just the movement of his eyes and the slight pinking up of his cheeks giving any sign that he had heard her.

'Then I'd like to kiss your bare chest,' she continued, barely moving her lips, feeling deliciously naughty to be saying these things to him outside the safety and privacy of his cottage.

His eyes widened and he shot her another look, his cheeks getting pinker.

'All the way down to your belly, maybe even as far as your th- '

'Good afternoon, your ladyship,' Tom said loudly as her mother swept out of the Abbey.

Mary shut up quickly, feeling sinfully wicked, delighted that she'd made him blush.

'Good afternoon, Branson. We're bound for Madame Swann's today,' Lady Grantham said, taking his proffered hand.

'Certainly,' Tom replied, sneaking a quick wide-eyed look at his lover as he helped her mother into the car.

Mary grinned at him before hastily rearranging her face into a picture of innocence as her mama settled elegantly next to her.

Tom shut the door and then slid into the driver's seat. He looked up into the mirror as he released the handbrake, locking eyes with Mary for a second and the heat in his gaze burned through her.

If only today was a cottage day…

Anna jolted to a surprised halt as William came barrelling out of the boot room in front of her, an annoyed look on his face, leaving the door open. Glancing through it, she saw Thomas sitting with a pile of silver in front of him, smirking.

She felt her temper spike and turned into the boot room, giving the footman a cold look.

'What have you said to him, now?'

Thomas raised an eyebrow. 'What's it to you?'

'You should leave him be. He's done you no harm.'

'And spoil all my fun? I don't think so.'

Anna shot him a look of dislike. 'People are not put on this earth solely for your entertainment, Thomas.'

'No, more's the pity. It'd be a sight better if they were, but you have to take your scraps of pleasure where you can, don't you? Especially in a humdrum life like this,' Thomas replied, bitterness tinging his words.

'Well, I'd be grateful if you left me out of your nasty, little games,' Anna said frostily, pinning him with a hard stare.

Thomas merely looked at her, feigning ignorance. 'I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about.'

'Daisy told me. About your bet with Miss O'Brien. The one concerning me and Mr Branson,' she said, watching him carefully for his reaction.

Something flickered briefly across his face – annoyance more than anything else. 'Daisy's off her head. Why would I care about you and Branson getting cosy together?' he said, his voice calm and level.

'Who knows what you care about and why? But please refrain from prying into my business.'

Anna held his gaze and then turned on her heel, making for the door.

'So, are you saying you are knocking him off?' Thomas called after her, his words deliberately crude.

Anna stopped, forcing herself not to react. She glanced back over her shoulder at him. 'I thought you didn't care.'

'I don't. Doesn't mean I don't like a juicy piece of gossip just as much as the next man, though.'

Anna threw him a scornful look and stalked out without saying another word.

Thomas stared after her, a little rattled. Her lack of a definitive answer had thrown him. Did that mean she was dilly-dallying with Branson after all? Wouldn't she deny it if it was not true? Perhaps she was. And if she was, then he and Miss O'Brien might be way off-beam with their theory about Branson and Lady Mary.

Perhaps Lady Mary knew about a relationship between Anna and Branson. She was as close to her maid as the quality got with the hired help. But, Thomas thought uncomfortably, it might make sense of why she called Branson Tom. If she knew he was her maid's sweetheart, she might take more of an interest in him.

Thomas pursed his lips, turning that over in his mind. If it was true about Anna and Branson, it would scupper their hopes of selling a juicy story to the papers. Nobody was going to pay for a story about a chauffeur courting a maid.

Anna collared Tom as he arrived for tea, discreetly tugging him by the sleeve into a corner of the kitchen yard before he could get in the door.

'You need to be careful,' she whispered, darting her eyes around, on the alert for either Thomas or Miss O'Brien coming outside.

'Why? What's happened?' Tom asked, bracing himself for bad news.

'Thomas and Miss O'Brien are sniffing around, asking questions.'

'About what?'

'You.'

'Me? What are they asking?'

'Well, they're… they're fishing,' Anna said, her cheeks colouring slightly.

'Fishing?'

'Yes. They, er, well, Thomas did, he asked Daisy to find out if you and I were…' Anna blushed harder '… um, well, walking out together.'

Tom stared at her, puzzled. 'You and me? But why would he think we're – oh.'

'Yes. Exactly,' Anna said, glad that he'd cottoned on quickly.

'He doesn't think we're walking out at all, does he?' Tom said, thinking it through.

'No, he doesn't. Well, except that he might be wondering now,' Anna confessed, feeling awkward.

Tom squinted at her. 'Why?'

'I confronted him about it and when he asked me outright, I… well, I didn't actually deny it,' she said, looking him straight in the eye. 'It might have thrown him off the scent a bit.'

Tom stared at her and then nodded, deeply grateful that Anna was in their corner. 'Thank you, Anna,' he said, briefly touching her sleeve. 'Do you think he suspects? About me and… her?'

'I don't think he knows anything for sure, but like I said, I think he's fishing,' Anna said, carefully. 'And I know Thomas. When something attracts his attention, he's like a dog digging for a bone. He won't let up until he's satisfied there's nothing to find. And we both know if he digs long enough, he'll find something.'

Tom blanched, remembering Mary's dangerously revealing words to him that afternoon while they waited for Lady Grantham to come to the motor. Thomas had been on duty at the front door then. Tom didn't think he'd been close enough to hear, but he couldn't be certain.

'What?' Anna asked, seeing his concern. 'Has something happened?'

He sighed, clenching his jaw. 'I… I hope not. It's just, well, she said some things to me today while she was in the back of the car and I was standing by the door waiting for her ladyship. Thomas was close by. Too close for comfort.'

'What did she say?' Anna asked, curiously.

'She was talking about kissing me, my… chest,' he said, awkwardly.

Anna gawked at him. 'She talked about that? In public?'

'Well, she kept her voice low, but yes, she did.'

'Do you think he heard?'

'No, I don't think so. At least, I hope not.'

'When was this?'

'Just after luncheon.'

Anna thought quickly, going over her exchange with Thomas. 'Then, no, I don't think he did, not judging by the conversation I had with him later this afternoon. But she can't go around saying those kind of things where other people can hear.'

'No, I know,' he said, heavily. 'I'll speak to her.'

'I'll probably see her before you do, so I'll mention it to her too,' Anna said, shaking her head at her mistress' recklessness. 'Between us, maybe we can make her understand what a dangerous game she's playing.'

Tom chewed his lip, wondering whether to ask the question burning on his tongue.

'What?' Anna said, seeing something on his face.

'Do you… do you think that's all this is to her? A game to be played?' he asked, feeling guilty for even asking.

Anna gazed at him, sympathy on her thin face. 'I don't know, Tom. But she has told me she loves you.'

Tom nodded, slowly. 'Yes, and I think she does. But I'm not sure she's truly aware of the consequences if we get caught.'

'No, I don't think she is,' Anna agreed. 'But then the consequences for her and the consequences for you will be quite different, won't they?'

Tom nodded again, a familiar feeling of resignation falling over him. 'Well, thanks for the warning. And for looking out for us.'

'It's no bother. I'd hate to see you fall foul of Thomas' machinations,' Anna said, giving him a small smile.

Something else occurred to Tom. 'What about Mr Bates?'

'What about him?' Anna asked, stilling.

'What will he think if he hears these rumours about you and me?'

'I've already told him we're not walking out.'

'Right. Good.'

'But… if he asks you or mentions it in any way, could you… could you make sure he knows there's nothing but friendship between us,' Anna said, hoping Tom wouldn't feel the need to put his own secret above her hopes.

He reached out his hand cupping her elbow reassuringly. 'Of course, I will.'

Anna nodded her thanks, smiling gratefully at Tom just as Miss O'Brien stepped out of the back door. She looked over at them, lifting her head to see better. Anna deliberately pressed her hand over Tom's, letting it linger for longer than necessary, inwardly gleeful at seeing a faint frown appear on O'Brien's pinched face.

'Let's go inside,' she said to him, dropping her hand.

Tom nodded and followed her inside, even going so far as to nod politely at Miss O'Brien as he passed her.

'Milady, there's something I need to talk to you about,' Anna said as she laid out the curling iron to do Mary's hair that evening.

Mary clipped her earring shut and eyed herself in the mirror. 'What is it, Anna?'

'There's a possibility that Thomas and Miss O'Brien might suspect there's more to your relationship with Mr Branson.'

Shocked, Mary spun in her seat to look directly at Anna. 'What? How? What... why? Why do you think that?'

'Well, it looks like they're sniffing around to find out if Mr Branson has a lady friend. Thomas told Daisy, the kitchen maid, that he and Miss O'Brien had a bet going on and he tricked her into asking me if I was walking out with him,' Anna said.

Mary frowned. 'So, he thinks Tom is seeing you, then?'

Anna shook her head. 'No, I think it was just an excuse to ask about Mr Branson. He perhaps thought Daisy might be able to get some information out of me. Although, when I spoke to Thomas and asked him to leave me out of whatever schemes he may have going on, I was deliberately vague about whether I might or might not be courting with Mr Branson.'

'But why do you think they suspect there's anything between me and Tom?' Mary asked, unclear about why these downstairs machinations had anything to do with her.

'Thomas heard you call Mr Branson by his Christian name a few months ago. He's been sniffing around since then.'

Mary pulled a face. 'Is that all?'

'It's more significant than you might think, milady. It's a breach of etiquette and you're not known for relaxing the rules.'

'Well, I wouldn't say that, exactly,' Mary protested.

'Did you ever call Mr Taylor by his Christian name?' Anna asked, pointedly.

'I'm not sure I ever knew Taylor's Christian name,' Mary said, thinking back to their previous chauffeur and coming up blank.

Anna raised an eyebrow, gazing steadily at her mistress, silently underlining her point.

'Oh, all right, I see what you're saying,' Mary said, rolling her eyes. 'But I don't see that it's much for them to go on.'

'It doesn't have to be much if it sets them on the right track, though, does it?' Anna argued. 'And Mr Branson said you said some indiscreet things to him today while Thomas was not far away.'

Mary stared at Anna, shocked that Tom had told her what she'd said to him in the car that afternoon. 'He told you?'

'He said you'd talked about kissing him. Can't you see how risky that is, milady? Saying such things to him when there are other people about?'

'Yes, I suppose so,' Mary muttered, feeling chastised and not liking it.

'I'm just saying; if Thomas or Miss O'Brien hear you or get wind of anything untoward going on between you and Mr Branson, they'll not hesitate to use it to their advantage?'

'Untoward?' Mary asked, arching an eyebrow, displeased with that description of her relationship with Tom.

'Personal, then,' Anna amended.

'But what would they do? Blackmail me? I could have them sacked,' Mary said, thinking aloud, annoyed by the thought of the likes of Thomas and O'Brien interfering in her love life.

'You could, but then they'd have nothing to lose and would probably reveal your secret. Or they could simply make Mr Branson's life a misery,' Anna pointed out, surprised that her mistress was treating this so nonchalantly. 'Do you really want that? And, ultimately, if they tell his lordship or her ladyship or even Mr Carson, that would be the end of Mr Branson's job and you wouldn't be able to see him anymore.'

Mary was silent, turning that over in her mind. 'It would be my word against theirs, though.'

'Yes, it would, but do you want to risk it? What if his lordship accepts your word but sacks Mr Branson anyway just in case?' Anna asked, floating a possibility she thought was highly likely if his lordship got wind of even a sniff of gossip about his daughter and the chauffeur.

Mary shook her head, her heart beginning to patter faster at the thought of Tom being dismissed. Anna was right, she couldn't risk it, no matter how much it stuck in her craw to let a couple of servants on the make dictate how she could behave.

'All right, all right, I'll be more careful, I promise,' she said, reluctantly. 'Will you tell Tom I'm sorry if I've made things difficult for him?'

'I will. I think we've managed to put them off the scent for a while, but it's best to be cautious,' Anna said, pleased that Lady Mary seemed to finally understand what a risky game she was playing.

Mary nodded, pursing her lips as she watched Anna pick up the curling iron to start work on her hair, thinking about Thomas and O'Brien, her nose decidedly out of joint.

The next day and Mary was once more riding in the motor, this time without the inconvenience of her mother's presence. She was going to the Dower House for luncheon with her grandmother, so the trip was short, with no opportunity to expand it, but it did give her a precious few minutes alone with Tom.

'You look beautiful today,' he said to her, his eyes lifting to meet hers in the mirror as he drove down the long, winding drive.

She smiled at him. 'Don't I look beautiful every day?' she asked, playfully.

His eyes crinkled, so she knew he was smiling back at her. 'Yes, you do, but that colour is particularly fetching on you.'

'Thank you, kind sir,' she replied before sobering a little. 'I'm sorry, Tom. About yesterday. I should have been more discreet.'

He shot her another look in the mirror. 'Yes, well, not that I didn't like the sentiment, but we do need to be careful. Anna told you about Thomas?'

'Yes. He's damnably nosey.'

Tom nodded. 'Aye, he is. But he's been suspicious since he heard you call me Tom. He's been pecking away at it on and off since then.'

'You never said anything,' Mary said, curious about why he had never mentioned Thomas's suspicions before.

'I thought maybe he'd given up on it,' Tom said with a shrug.

'Well, I'm sorry. I won't say anything indiscreet when anyone else is nearby again,' Mary promised. 'Although it's a shame because I quite enjoyed the look on your face yesterday.'

The crinkles around his eyes reappeared in the mirror and he glanced at her again. 'It was quite…'

'Titillating?' Mary suggested when he petered out, searching for the right word.

Tom huffed out a laugh, his eyes back on the road. 'Yes, you could say that.'

'Well, I meant it,' she said, her voice dropping low. 'I really do want to watch you take your clothes off. And I want to kiss you all over.'

Tom swallowed and locked eyes with her again in the mirror. 'Do you?'

'Most definitely. And I'd quite like you to kiss me all over, too,' she expanded, heat spreading throughout her, curling in her belly. 'Especially my breasts. I enjoyed that immensely last time.'

'So did I,' he murmured, huskily.

'And that thing you did with your hand under my skirt. I particularly enjoyed that,' she purred, delighting in the pink flush she could see building in his cheeks. 'Do you think you could see your way to doing that to me again sometime soon?'

'I daresay I could,' he replied, casting her a heated look.

'Marvellous,' she said, her voice still low. 'I've thought about it such a lot since it happened.'

'So have I,' Tom admitted.

'I've never felt anything quite so intense.'

Tom smiled again, thrilled to have been the first man to make her feel like that.

'I've relived it every night since then while I've been lying in bed trying to sleep. I've even tried to touch myself like you touched me,' she said, watching him in the mirror.

Tom jerked his eyes up to meet hers, arousal licking through him at the picture she was painting in his mind. 'Have you?'

'Yes, but it hasn't felt as good as you made it feel. Although it does feel very nice, touching myself like that,' she confessed.

'Oh, God, Mary,' Tom groaned, desire punching through him. 'I'm going to be thinking about that now while I wait for you to finish visiting with the Dowager.'

'And is that a bad thing?' she asked coquettishly as he pulled into the gravel courtyard of the Dower House, swinging the car around the sundial to come to a stop outside the small flight of steps leading up to the front door.

'Only if I've got to converse respectably with your grandmother's staff while that image is in my head,' he said, wryly. 'Like now.'

Mary grinned, sharing another look in the mirror with him before he slid out of the driver's seat and moved to open the rear door for her.

Her grandmother's butler appeared at the open door above them, looking down on proceedings.

'Thank you, Branson,' Mary said clearly, squeezing Tom's fingers as he handed her out of the car. 'I do hope you enjoy your repast.'

'Thank you, milady, I'm sure it will be most enjoyable,' he replied, formally.

Mary gave him a small smile, one that would not put the cat amongst the pigeons, and headed up the stairs. Tom watched her go, admiring the sway of her hips and the roundness of her bottom before giving himself a little shake and shutting the car door. He could not scold her for being indiscreet and then ogle her like that while Spratt was at the top of the stairs watching. It seemed they must both do better when it came to hiding their feelings for each other.