“Of course you have not.” But she sat up, checked her hair, and got to her feet while he got to his. “Nobody even noticed us leave, and no one will notice our return. And even if anyone does, it does not matter, does it? We are merely two friends out taking the air together.”
“Friends.” He looked at her and smiled as she shook out her shawl and draped it about her shoulders. “I am glad we are. I wondered after the last time we walked together.”
They were standing very close to each other, she realized. She felt an almost overwhelming urge to reach out her hand and touch his cheek again. But he was making no move to touch her in any way. She wondered if he wished to—and if she really wished to touch him.
She did not touch him. And she was glad he did not touch her. For if she did, or if he did, it would surely be more than just a simple touch this time. She would not be able to bear being kissed by him. She wanted it and cringed from it.
And the idea that she might cringe gave her pause. Cringe because of his appearance? Or because the last man to touch her had been…?
She turned away.
“I’ll race you to the bottom,” she said, and took off running and slipping and sliding and shrieking and laughing—and hurting her feet—until she arrived at the bottom of the hill all in one piece a few moments after him.
He was grinning his lopsided grin as she fell into step beside him, breathless and still laughing.
The dancing was just ending as they entered the drawing room through the French windows. There was a bustle of activity as all the outside guests found one another and their belongings and took their leave of the duke and duchess and the houseguests and one another.
It was an opportune time for their return, Anne thought. No one would have even noticed that she and Mr. Butler were gone.
“I must go too, Miss Jewell,” Mr. Butler said, making her a half-bow. “You still wish to join me on Sunday morning?”
“Oh, yes,” she said. “I shall look forward to it.”
She watched him as he took his leave of the duchess and realized that right now at this moment she felt buoyantly happy.
Like her son, she thought, she needed male companionship as well as female. It had been so lacking in her life. She would miss him when…But no, she would not think of that.
Today was Thursday. There were three days to go to Sunday—she actually counted them off on her fingers.
In three more days she would see him again.
“To a service that will be all in Welsh so that she will notunderstand a single word?” Morgan, Lady Rosthorn, said, staring at Joshua. Then her face lit up with mischief and delight. “How very promising, to be sure.”
“Promising?” Lord Aidan said, his brows coming together in a frown. “A church service? I will go to my grave, Morgan, without a glimmering of an understanding of the female mind.”
“He has invited her to go tochurchwith him?” Lord Alleyne rolled his eyes. “A bold and risqué move indeed. I did not know Syd had it in him to be such a devil of a fellow.”
“Perhaps,” Lord Rannulf said, grinning, “they need a chaperone. Any offers? Josh, you are the one who claims a relationship with the lady.”
“But I am also the one who has been entrusted with the task of taking her son to church with everyone else,” the marquess said. “I cannot be in two places at the same time, Ralf.”
Judith clucked her tongue.
“Putting them together at dinner on Thursday evening certainly was an inspired move, Christine,” she said. “It worked just as we thought it might.”
“Though Free almost ruined all by talking Syd’s ear off,” Lord Rannulf said. “I almost gave myself the migraines with all the nodding and winking I did in her direction.”
“Oh, nonsense, Ralf, you did no such thing!” Freyja retorted. “Of course I talked to him. One cannot betooobvious about these things. If Syd had suspected even for a single moment that we were busy matchmaking for him, he would have run a hundred miles without stopping, and who could blame him?”
“Not me, Free,” Lord Alleyne assured her.
“And I believe Miss Jewell would runtwohundred, Freyja,” the duchess said. “Indeed, she would be spending this whole month hiding in a dark corner if we gave her half a chance, would she not? Did you notice how she slipped away from the breakfast table a few minutes ago instead of lingering like the rest of us? I like her exceedingly well. And I do agree that she and Mr. Butler might well suit if they are just given a fair chance to become acquainted.”
“Fairbeing the operative word, Christine,” Lord Aidan said. “Why it should be thought that merely because Sydnam and Miss Jewell are both lonely souls they must therefore belong together escapes my understanding.”
“Perhaps because you do not possess a romantic bone in your body, Aidan,” Lord Rannulf said with a chuckle.
“But do you not agree, Aidan,” Rachel, Lady Alleyne, asked him, “that they ought to be given a chance to see if they belong together? And it was they who made the first move, after all, by walking on the beach together and then planning another walk the next day. And it was you, Rannulf, who pointed out to us on Thursday evening that they had been outside together for an hour and a half. Though, of course, we hadallnoticed.”
