“I see.” He nodded once, then regarded her with a twinkle in his eye. “At the risk of starting a war, would you perhaps like to take a walk with me? I promise to behave,” he said sweetly, innocently. Too innocently.
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. “When you act like that, it makes me more suspicious.”
“Act like what?” he asked, a gentle smile lifting his lips.
“Like you’re not a proverbial thorn in my flesh,” she explained with false sweetness.
He chuckled at her words. “Don’t hold back your true emotions, Miss Essex.”
“I won’t, which should be fair warning,” she said, offering a smile.
He nodded once. “I understand and willingly take on the risk of your company.”
She bit back a giggle. “And what of me? What if I don’t wish to take on the risk of your company, as you put it?”
“Then you’re not as brave as I thought,” hechallenged, leaning back and waiting, watching for her reaction.
Her eyes narrowed into slits at the gauntlet thrown. “Very well, I suppose I can tolerate your company for a few more minutes this afternoon.”
“A glowing compliment if I’ve ever received one.”
Elizabeth arched a brow but turned to Molly. “Would you accompany me this afternoon with Lord Penderdale? I’m sure he’d love to see where the questionable tea sellers hide,” she added, and directed her attention back to Lord Penderdale, curiously watching his reaction.
He studied her for a moment and then smiled approvingly. “Delightful.”
“And observant. Don’t forget that,” she complimented herself.
He shook his head good-naturedly, and she thought she heard him whisper, “Too observant,” but she wasn’t sure.
“I’ll be ready in a quarter hour. Will that be acceptable?” she asked as she stood.
“I’ll wait with bated breath, Miss Essex.” He lifted his teacup and then selected a biscuit from the plate. “And I’ll be sure to appreciate the honey you recently procured.”
Elizabeth quit the room after asking Molly to follow her and assist with finding a cleaner, more presentable dress. As Molly helped her change her clothing, Elizabeth’s mind wandered and her chest constricted.
Mr. Finch had all but declared himself last night. She still hadn’t sorted through her feelings with any finality, and yet today she was spending an afternoon, or at least part of it, with a man she normally couldn’t stand—by her own choice. She glanced in the long oval mirror, wondering who she had become in the past few weeks.Blend in, keep quiet, head downwas her usual practice. However, the words chafed against her soul, as if she’d outgrown them and they now constricted her. But abandoning her invisibility would keep her from assisting her father at the college. She had to be invisible to be present.
As she considered that, she realized something vital. And that one truth had the power to change everything. She didn’t want to be invisible anymore.
Fourteen
The unexamined life is not worth living.
—Socrates
Collin ate the last bite of biscuit and licked his fingers clean of the remnants of sticky honey. He savored the sweetness on his tongue. It was amusing, the dichotomy of Elizabeth Essex. She was anything but a simpering, sweet, and demure London debutante, and nonetheless she cared for bees and harvested honey—the sweetest substance. It was a balance, he decided, and rightfully so. He’d seen enough of the calculatingly sweet heiresses in London to note there was an unnatural flavor to their character, counterfeit—in a way. Forced. Elizabeth was unafraid of her thoughts or of speaking them out loud, even if they were less than complimentary. She’d be sorely out of place in a London ballroom, and that was exactly what attracted him. In a word, she was authentic, real and natural. And she offered absolutely no apology for it.
In fact, the only time he’d ever witnessed her intentionally try to blend in was that first meetingat Christ’s College. He shook his head as he remembered it. In her rather bad attempt to blend in and be invisible, she did the exact opposite, as if her attempts to remain unnoticed only brought her further into his view. It grated at him, watching her. It was why he couldn’t help but say something, rightfully earning her ire. But that fire she’d unleashed with her words was exactly what he’d seen hiding behind her foolish attempt at being invisible.
She was made for more than trying to avoid notice.
He wondered if she knew that.
Or wanted that.
It was a pity, and it also wasn’t his problem.
No, his problem had taken on a new twist when he’d learned that some people were peddling smuggled tea, likely all connected with the men using his name. Good Lord, the issue kept spinning out of control. As many answers as he’d found in the past week, he’d tripled the number of new questions raised in response. It was maddening. However, what could he do but keep searching?
