Chapter 19
“Well, I must say,” Grace declared as the carriage returned home from a midday outing two days later, “that was one of the most enjoyable afternoons I have had in some time. Who knew that such an intimate group could provide better company than the great majority of elegant, crowded affairs of the Season?”
Tristan couldn’t help but agree. Until recently, he had been more likely to gravitate toward those things that provided the greatest number of attendees, the largest mix of personalities, the most distraction in the form of music and laughter and conversation.
But over the course of the last few days, he’d found himself looking forward to their small group more than he ever had those busy parties. He wondered what the change was.
Of their own volition, his eyes found Rosalind. She sat beside Grace, looking amazingly pretty in another of his cousin’s cast-offs, a rose-colored gown that lent a blush to her pale skin. As if he had called her name, she looked his way. The blush in her cheeks deepened when she saw his gaze on her. But, instead of scowling at him as she used to do, a small smile lifted her lips before she looked away.
Perhaps he should have been concerned that his heart leapt; Instead, he found himself smiling as well, looking out at the passing scenery yet seeing only the softened look in her brown eyes.
They arrived at their townhouse a short time later. Tristan leapt down, offering a hand to his cousin to help her disembark. She surprised him by waving him off. “I’ve somewhere to be and so won’tbe getting off here. You don’t mind if I take the carriage out again do you?”
“Of course not,” he replied. There had been a marked improvement in her spirits today; he would do anything in his power to keep her happy. He made to close the carriage door and send her and Rosalind on their way.
“Oh, Tristan,” she called, “you may help Miss Merriweather down. I don’t require her company this afternoon.”
“Are you certain, my lady?” Rosalind asked.
“Oh yes, quite.”
Tristan helped Rosalind down. Together they waved as Grace started off down the street.
And then they were alone.
Why, he thought as they stood side by side on the pavement on the busy street, did he feel as if they were the only two people in the world?
He knew they could not stand there forever, that they should move indoors, which he in his dazed state of mind seemed unable to do. Beside him, Rosalind fidgeted, moving from one foot to the other before, with a jerky motion of her hand, she said, “Shall we?”
He cleared his throat. “Ah, yes, let’s.”
As one they entered the house, their silence broken only by the murmurings of the butler as he took their outerwear. There was something incredibly intimate in the whole thing, as if they were a couple, returning home together.
The strangest longing overtook him at the thought. It was not abhorrent in the least; instead, it made his chest ache in the most surprising way.
“Well then,” Rosalind said as the butler moved off. “I shall see you later.” She turned to go.
The most intense panic overcame him then. “Wait!”
She started, looking at him uncertainly. “Yes?”
Now what? He didn’t have a clue. All he knew was he didn’t want to part with her. Then he hit on a brilliant idea. “I thought perhaps we could discuss the progress of our wager.”
Was that relief in her eyes? But it was gone in the blink of an eye. “What a splendid idea. For I shall be able to list all the reasons why I shall be the victor.”
He laughed. “We shall see about that,” he murmured.
As one they started through the house. Truthfully he could hardly see where they were headed, his mind too full of visions of her momentary relief.
The last days had provided a kind of peace from the constant battles that had taken up their time together thus far. Now that she wasn’t attacking him with her sharp tongue, he could see more clearly the humorous wit she possessed, the innate kindness in her. And the fierce loyalty. She truly cared for Grace and Miss Weeton. And, he realized now that he was distanced from the situation, she had cared for Miss Gladstow as well. She truly wanted what was best for these women and feared them being taken advantage of almost to the point of obsession.
What, he wondered not for the first time, had brought about such a protective instinct in her, an instinct that went well beyond normal concern?
They reached the downstairs sitting room then. But at the door Tristan paused.
She looked at him in curiosity. “Is something wrong?”
“Not at all. Only we’ve had such a lovely day out of doors, I thought perhaps we might take a walk in the garden?”
