She rushed upstairs to grab her notepad, work papers, reticule, and pelisse, then hurried back downstairs to the entry hall where Ambrose was now waiting. Watling had the front door open in expectation of their departure.
The sun streamed in around Ambrose, illuminating him where he stood.
She laughed and shook her head. “Figures.”
“What?” He escorted her down the front walk to his carriage.
“You are always the handsomest man in the room, looking every inch the Greek god. Is it any surprise the sun chose to shine down on you just now?” She shook her head again and smirked. “And do you know how irritating it is that you always look perfect no matter how hard the wind is blowing? Your hair just naturally falls back into place while mine looks like it was attacked by a murder of crows.”
He placed his hands on her waist to help her inside, and then settled beside her. “You exaggerate, Adela.”
“No, it is all quite true.”
He shrugged, his shoulder rubbing against hers as the carriage jerked and began to roll away from Eloise’s house. “Glad you think so, but I am far from anyone’s ideal. I need to tell you something.”
Her heart fluttered.
Oh, dear.
Was he going to end their betrothal now?
She had to stop thinking like this. Always leaping to the worst possible conclusion when she knew he was not a knave and would never do anything to hurt her.
But he did not love her.
He would have uttered those simple words if he truly felt them.
I love you.
Being the honest man he was, he simply could not say them to her. This was why she continued to have these nagging doubts about their upcoming wedding. Was this not a perfect moment for him to end their betrothal?
After all, everything was back as it should be, his book returned and her notes recovered. Perhaps he still had feelings for Lady Victoria even though he had denied it last night. One’s thoughts often became clearer after a good night’s sleep.
Had the two ever been in love with each other?
Adela had no doubt they were once bed partners.
But Ambrose, despite their betrothal and his obvious knowledge of a woman’s body, had never made any such overtures to her. Indeed, to her frustration, he always remained the gentleman save for a few steamy kisses and that one time he had touched her breast.
Dear heaven.
His hands and lips had felt so nice on her.
But who was to say he did not kiss all his female companions in this melting way? She was to be his wife, yet he hardly behaved as though he were besotted.
“Adela, are you listening to me?”
She nodded. “Yes, Ambrose. What did you wish to say to me?”
“I–”
He suddenly drew her off the seat and shoved her to the carriage floor as something slammed against the window beside her. He covered her body with his own, protecting her while glass shattered all around them.
Had someone thrown a rock at their moving carriage? They had just turned off Chipping Way onto the main thoroughfare which was still in a residential area and not as busy as the shopping streets even though there were several carriages passing by.
Was it possible theirs had been struck by mistake?
“Adela, are you hurt?”
