Seeing him smile at her, the look in his eyes so much warmer and loving than the condesending she might have gotten from anyone else under similar circumstances, made her breath rush out from the anxious little knot that had started building in her chest again. It made her remember those moments when she'd catch him staring at her when he was 'working'--she'd always pretended she hadn't seen, going back to her reading or dusting quickly so he wouldn't notice and stop looking at her that way, but it had stayed with her. Even before she'd realized she'd fallen for him, those looks had made her feel like so much more than the silly housekeeper who read too much. It had made her feel important, somehow--the fact that she had earned his attention when she knew few people did once they were done dealing. It had been those looks that had given her the hope and courage that had made her kiss him that evening.
And it was that look, now, that made her forget all the silly mores from home that would have told her this was wrong, when her heart knew it couldn't be. "Right," she laughed a little, taking his tie between her fingers (she liked that, much easier to handle than the cravat). "Much more important things to be worrying about than housekeeping." And before he could respond to her pathetic quip, she tugged gently on the silk to bring his mouth to hers.