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William cleared his throat. “I don’t possess a nightshirt. Usually, I do not even wear breeches to bed. I find the rubbing of the fabric against the sheets quite uncomfortable. But I didn’t think you’d appreciate me being completely nude.”

“Thank you,” she said after a brief pause.

“You’re welcome.”

“Would you like me to get you a nightshirt?” she asked after another charged lull in the conversation.

He turned on his side, facing her. “Get me a nightshirt? As a gift?”

She shrugged. “If you wish. A few ladies in the shelter took to sewing. And while they are not as adept with a needle and thread as to sew evening wear yet, I am certain they can manage a nightshirt. They sewed my dressing gown for me.” A delicate hand peeked out from the covers as she said that, pointing in the direction of the chair by the bed where she’d draped her dressing gown. “I am certain it would be more comfortable than wearing breeches. And um…” She swallowed. “It would keep your chest covered.”

William let out a bark of laughter. “Why do you want me to cover my chest?”

Victoria pursed her lips. “It’s… unseemly. No, not your chest,” she hastened to add at his raised brow. “The fact that you’re bare-chested in the same bed as me is unseemly.”

“You mean arousing,” he countered. And the look of light irritation she gave him made him laugh again. “Very well,” he said with a soft smile. “Get me a nightshirt. Now, I believe you owe me a kiss.”

“Very well.” Victoria shifted to lie a little closer, stretched her neck, tilted her face toward him, and closed her eyes.

William chuckled. “No, no, no.”

She opened her eyes and frowned. “What?”

He shook his head and tsked. “You are the one who is going to kiss me, not the other way around.”

“Why is that?” Her voice came out strangely squeaky.

William shrugged. “That’s the deal. A kiss from you to me. Not the other way around.”

She furrowed her brows. “You are saying that I am going to be the one to kiss you every night?”

He nodded. “Is that an issue?”

She expelled a breath. “I suppose not.”

“Since you kissed Porter it’s only fair—”

“I did not kiss him!” she cried, before clamping her lips shut, her brows furrowed. “He kissed me. And if you must know, I did not enjoy it at all.”

William’s lips melted into a smile. Her words were a balm to his bruised soul that he did not know he needed. “You did not?”

She shrugged. “Not in the least.”

“Glad to hear that.”

“And I was not going to let him kiss me again,” she continued. “So, you don’t need to worry about that.”

William snorted. “I wasn’t worried. In fact—” He paused, debating whether he needed to say that Porter was taken care of, and decided against it.

“In fact, what?” Her brows were furrowed.

“In fact,” William said, “I don’t want to talk about him anymore. I would rather we got to the kiss.”

Victoria let out a breath. “Of course.”

William shifted a little closer as Victoria chewed her lower lip. She was so adorably nervous, William couldn’t help but smile.

“Are you going to look at me the entire time?”