“Never?” How could that be?
His befuddled response pulled a laugh from her, and she shook her head at him. “You’ve been living among aristocrats too long.”
“How so?”
“You really don’t know?”
“Enlighten me.”
“My sort—oursort—don’tholiday. Butyouare an exception, because you’ve been around it most of your life. You travel with the duke, correct?”
“Erm, correct.” Only too correct.
She spread her hands as if her point was proven. “There you are. May I give you a spot of advice?”
“As you like.”
“Don’t ever lose your place with this duke.”
“Why is that?”
“Because you wouldn’t like the come-down from the lofty heights where you’ve been flying. Solid earth would give you a right smack on the bottom.”
Lucas decided right there. He no longer wanted to spend more time with Miss Tait. Heneededto. She was unlike any woman he’d ever met. It was her point of view. He liked it. She had a light and lightness to her, and he needed more of it.
“Allow me to show you the sights of Matlock Bath tomorrow, Miss Tait,” he said. Was that desperation in his voice?
She started slightly, clearly taken aback by his boldness. “Why would you want to do that?”
He couldn’t very well say the truth, that it was to spend more time with her. So he could know her better. Such words would be too direct, too honest. They would frighten her off, for it was too easy to see the skittishness in her eyes.
“By way of apology,” he said, only thinking of the words as they passed his lips. “I am responsible for ruining your frock, after all.”
“And my pelisse,” she added. The smile hadn’t left her soft amber eyes even as they considered his offer.
On tenterhooks, he waited.
Her fingertips gave a few taps on the table, then stopped. “It could be fun.”
Did those four words mean what he thought they could? “Is that a yes?”
“Yes.”
He allowed no space between her assent and his next question. “How about morning?” He wouldn’t give her time to change her mind and beg off. “Ten o’clock?”
She shook her head. “I’ll need the morning to myself, so I can begin stitching a few items before my next client arrives. After noon would be best for me.”
“One-of-the-clock, then?” How desperate could he possibly sound?
Her head tipped to the other side, and a question entered her eyes.
“What is it?” he asked, bracing himself.
“Why is it you want to spend time with mousy little me?”
The question emerged light and without a hint of self-consciousness.
Fortunately, the answer was easy.
