“Miss Faraday, you’ll have to forgive my brother his dullness,” Lord Charles teased, eyes on his brother even as he lifted the reins to restart their journey.
And what was she to say to that? She blinked, trying to clear the fog of her brain. She’d intended to convince Lord Charles that she was not worth his time, but she’d not yet felt capable of normal conversation, much less a purposefully off-putting one.
“Truly. Lucas dislikes entertainment and hates to socialize. I am surprised my parents have convinced him to travel to London with us this Season. Though hardly anyone has seen him—he remains cloistered away in the study or library. We are lucky to have dragged him out of doors today.” A small hint of an underlying tension seemed to color his words. Resentment? But how could one resent their own flesh and blood? And how could he say so when his brother was just beside them?
A desire to stand up for Lord Berkeley rose in her, and before she could stop herself, she said, “There seems a time and place for everything, does there not? I, for one, enjoy company and solitude. Balls and books.”
Lord Berkeley’s eyes flicked between both of hers. Would that she could read his mind at that moment. But all he did was nod.
Just when she’d given up hope that he would say anything at all, he added, “A good book and a bit of quiet can never be discounted.”
Lord Charles let out a puff of air that was more humored than derisive.
“Well said,” Lydia returned, hoping to heal whatever rift had occurred in the conversation. “Is that what you were doing when Lord Charles was helping me to leave the ball? Reading?”
“No,” Lord Berkeley answered. His eyes darted past her to his brother, and she saw a hint of a smile play around his mouth—a very small hint, but it was there, in the relaxing of his cheeks. “Charlie is not entirely wrong on this account. I was hiding.”
“Hiding?”
All tension lost, Lord Charles chuckled. “He is a little too... ah... How would you say it, brother? Hunted?”
Lord Berkeley shook his head. Lydia watched him curiously, growing too fond of deciphering his little mannerisms. “I simply did not want...” But his sentence faded, and his brother picked it back up.
“To be attacked by every eligible young lady and fortune-seeking mother.” Lord Charles laid his arm along the back of the seat, leaning into Lydia as if imparting a secret, though he did keep his eyes on the lane ahead. “My brother is quite the catch.” He laughed at whatever was showing in her expression. “Of course, I do not see why. As I said, he’s a total bore.” His words were light and, this time, clearly not intended to carry barbs, but Lydia imagined that she saw some of the stiffness return in Lord Berkeley. It made her heart drop to witness.
The phaeton crossed several uneven spots in the ground, causing its inhabitants to sway. Lydia’s shoulder connected more strongly with Lord Berkeley, and without thinking, she glanced up to see his reaction.
He was looking down at her. His eyes seemed a darker green as they bored into her own. Her breath caught.
“Here we are,” Lord Charles announced in the next second, pulling the phaeton up to the entrance of a large park. Lydia pulled her gaze away from Lord Berkeley. She felt overheated despite the lack of sun and barely refrained from fanning herself with her hand. Clearing her throat, she looked out at the park. The foreground was green and lush and open, but in the background, she could see several copses of trees.
Lord Charles had already jumped from the carriage and walked several steps down the path, looking out into the park and bouncing up slightly on the balls of his feet.
“I will stay with the horses,” Lord Berkeley offered. He alighted and offered his hand to Lydia before Lord Charles turned back from his perusal. For a brief moment, as she placed her hand in his, she felt that sensation of fire traveling up her arm—all the warmth but none of the pain. Yet something told her that if she did not tamp down such responses, pain was sure to follow.
He saw her settled on the ground then turned back to the horses, leaving Lord Charles to offer his arm and escort her into the park. She refrained from looking over her shoulder at Lord Berkeley.
“We will not be long, Lucas,” Lord Charles called back.
Lydia felt a sense of relief at those words—at the promise to return to the company ofbothbrothers before long.
That was a dangerous feeling indeed.
Chapter 12
A little bell tinkled abovethe door to the solicitor’s office as Lucas entered, ducking his head to avoid hitting it. After the anxiety-ridden afternoon with Charlie and Miss Faraday, he was grateful to be back to work, doing what was usual and comfortable to him. No beautiful young women distracting him. No brushing of shoulders making him wish to jump from the phaeton and walk home. And when she’d grasped at his leg in fear of the carriage turning over? The anxiety was returning just thinking about it.
“We are closed,” a disembodied voice called out from somewhere in the back office.
“It is I, Sperry.”
“Ah, Lord Berkeley.” Sperry came out into the front room, surveying Lucas through his spectacles. “Very good. I shall be out of your way in a minute.”
“Thank you.” The two men did not share another word as Sperry collected his things and tidied up his desk. Only as he exited the shop did he nod his head in farewell. Lucas returned the gesture before slipping into the back office.
He sat at Sperry’s desk, foot tapping the floor. What were the odds that the men he was to meet that night would show up? About half, perhaps more, of those who’d planned a meeting with Lucas never arrived. It was equal parts frustrating and disheartening. How was he to help a man who did not want to be helped?
He checked his timepiece again. Thirty-seven minutes until he needed to be home and three minutes past his meeting time with Tom Bredford. He rubbed his jaw. If the man did not come in the next ten minutes, Lucas would move on to anticipating the arrival of the next man and hope to see Bredford at the next match. Or else ask Colin to keep an eye out for him. Hopefullyit would not come to that. Lucas desperately needed to lose himself in helping others just then.
