Aubrey couldn’t help but grin at his story… not just the story, but his telling of it.
“And you are still friends, with this Hollis boy?”
Mr. Bateman nodded with an affectionate smile. Cochran.
“Did your mother call you Cochran?”
“Chance. Everyone calls me Chance.”
“And now, I know something else about you.” Somehow, he’d caused her to forget about the rude barkeep who’d done his best to ruin her day. She’d like to call him by his given name but couldn’t be so presumptuous as to do so without being asked.
“You know that I was bullied and also that I have a temper. It seems that you shall leave no stone unturned.”
Aubrey waved a hand through the air. “I’m sure there is not much you do not know about me.”
“I am not opposed to learning more.” And when the maid stepped inside the room this time, his eyes remained focused on Aubrey.
Aubrey fussed with her napkin and silverware until the maid had set down their plates and left the room. One minute she’d determined he was barely even a friend and the next she considered him her closest confidante.
“What secrets are you keeping, Ambrosia Bloomington?” He spoke the word almost as though he could read her mind.
Secrets? Hadn’t she told him most of them already? About she and Mrs. Tuttle’s fake Bible studies, about her plans on holding salons and readings.
He’d had his hands on her negligee, for heaven’s sake.
Aubrey lifted a bite of food to her mouth, hardly able to contemplate that a world existed outside of this room. “Did you ask after Guinevere?” She congratulated herself on formulating such an intelligent question. She assumed that was why he’d visited the stables when they arrived.
“One of the lads thought he might have seen her.”
Aubrey looked up in surprise. “In the area? Did he tell you where she was headed? Should we go after her?”
Mr. Bateman chuckled softly, shaking his head. “He wasn’t certain but knows how to contact me if he learns anything more.”
Twisting her mouth, Aubrey considered that this wasn’t bad news, although it wasn’t quite good news either. “You must find her. After your party.”
She’d begun to notice a certain look of… not quite despair, but nothing pleasant for certain, whenever she mentioned his party. It danced across his features just then and she wanted to ask him why. She wanted him to tell her what was so horrible about this particular party that he looked haunted at the mention of it.
But he’d not wanted to tell her about it. If he had, then he would have already given her an explanation.
“I’ve never worn the sapphire negligee.” She announced for no reason other than that it bothered her that he hadn’t questioned her about it.
It shouldn’t. He was merely being a gentleman.
But she didn’t want for him to think that she had a lover waiting for her in London… or that she’d ever cheated on her husband.
It shouldn’t matter. All of this was very personal information… and yet…
It did.
“You will wear it for me.” Mr. Bateman shoved a bite of food into his mouth, causing Aubrey to surely mishear his words.
“Pardon?” Surely, she was mistaken.
He lifted a bite of potatoes and sausage. “You will share it with me?”
Her plate consisted of mostly vegetables and chicken. Emboldened by their unusual friendship, Aubrey reached across the table and stabbed a large piece of sausage with her own fork. “I believe I will, Cocky.” She didn’t meet his eyes until his own words hovered between them.
“Don’t bite off more than you can chew,Princesse.”
