“What purpose?”
He smirked, the incorrigible man. “A purpose worth pursuing, Miss Apsley.”
“How forthcoming and open you are,” I said flatly.
The lieutenant crossed the room to me, his pace a saunter full of confidence. My heart beat faster at his approach, although I could not entirely pinpoint the reason. Anticipation, perhaps? Yes, that must be it. His proximity raised my hackles. I could never predict what this man would do from one moment to the next, and being unable to anticipate his actions left me uneasy.
He stopped next to me, his attention focused on the Oriental vase. “What happened to such a beautiful piece?”
Was he truly going to deviate from our conversation? Likely so, and simply for the fact that he knew it would irk me. I needed to know why he had come here if I had any hope of getting him to leave. The sooner he accomplished whatever purpose had brought him to Kenwick, the sooner I could be rid of him.
“It fell off and broke,” I said offhandedly. “For what reason have you come to Kenwick?”
His lips twitched. “Fell off? All of its own accord?”
“No. My brother, Jack, thought to act like a baboon during a game of Charades, and his dramatic behavior resulted in the vase tipping over the edge. Why are you here?”
“That is a shame, but at least it was saved with a bit of effort.” He reached forward and ran a finger over the vase’s surface, truly seeming to admire the scene depicted on it. “Broken things can still tell stories. They are far more likely to be good stories, in my opinion.”
Perhaps if I broke him, he would tell me the story of why he came to visit. His nose was far too straight, was it not? I winced at the mere idea. I would never physically assault him on purpose, but I wouldn’t mind finding another way to drag his ego down a peg.
The lieutenant turned to face me so abruptly that I was momentarily arrested by his dark, soul-searching eyes that seemed to always see through any façade I presented. The patter in my chest intensified, and my breath caught in my throat. Edward Paget was unquestionably handsome, and I despised how I physically reacted to his presence.
A crooked nose truly would help.
His gaze flicked over my face, then dropped briefly down my body before meeting mine again. I fought a blush at the appreciation in his eyes. I had not dressed or had my maid restyle my hair to pleasehim.
“I came here to speak with your father,” he said, his voice much softer than it had been before.
I blinked, requiring a moment to comprehend his statement. After his evasiveness, I hadn’t expected him to reveal why he had come. I also didn’t care for his shift to solemnity, something I rarely saw mar his features. “Speak to him about what?”
“A friend of mine. I had hoped he might have information that would help me.”
“You have friends?”
The question drew a laugh from him, restoring his smile. Rather than take offense at my response, humor danced in his eyes. Somehow, it still felt like a victory, and I grinned. “And did my father have information?”
The lieutenant drew in a slow breath that lifted his broad shoulders, straining the fabric of his coat in places. Places that drew my eyes.
I chided myself for the lapse in focus.
“I did not ask him yet,” the lieutenant admitted. “He has requested that I meet with him tomorrow morning. I shall do so then.”
My brows puckered. I had been under the impression our guest had gone to speak with Father after his arrival. If they had not conversed, did that mean my father was too weak to do so? My lungs constricted, cutting my breathing short.
Realization flashed in the lieutenant’s eyes, and he reached for me. His hand landed on my shoulder, and warmth permeated through the fabric of his gloves over my skin. “He is well—or, at least, as well as can be expected. We simply did not have time to speak of my purpose in coming, for there were other matters he wished to…discuss with me. Forgive me for worrying you.”
The tightness in my chest eased. “His condition seems to change from one moment to the next at times. I cannot help the overreaction.”
He squeezed my arm before dropping his hand. “It is not an overreaction to show concern for someone you love. It has been a difficult few months, I imagine. No one would fault you for being quick to assume the worst, especially when your father’s health has been so poor as of late.”
His sincerity and understanding plucked at my heartstrings. Lieutenant Paget spent the majority of our time together teasing or taunting me. But on those rare occasions when he was not, a man of kindness and empathy stepped in. A man of passion.
My face heated again, and I averted my gaze. His passion I had only experienced once, and I wished to forget the experience altogether.
“So, this friend of yours…how is my father to help?”
He did not answer right away, and when I believed he would ignore my prodding completely, I finally dared a glance at him. I expected to find his smirk had returned and a teasing glint sparkling in his eyes. Neither was present, and the solemn expression he wore unsettled me.
