She was about to remind him that he had sneaked up on her in the library too but managed to stop herself before drawing attention to a moment she hoped all involved had forgotten.
‘I was expecting you to stay over there.’ She gestured to the side of the room he’d been standing in when she had arrived.
‘I did not realise you were aware I was in the room.’
‘The butler said as much when we entered.’
‘And yet you were surprised by me speaking to you.’
Was he annoyed by the fact that she hadn’t fawned over him like a young debutante? Surely not. It was not as if they meant anything to one another. ‘What were you expecting?’
He scratched his neck; his fingernails were blunt and neat, no sign that he bit them. ‘I suppose I thought you might acknowledge me in some way. Nothing grand but a smile or a grimace or something to indicate we are more than just strangers.’
‘We are not more than strangers.’
He sighed, the sound taking her back to the library floor and her utter humiliation.
‘It is very blue,’ she said before they could discuss last night. ‘The room, I mean.’
Clasping his hands behind his back, he looked about him. ‘It is incredibly blue,’ he agreed. ‘It is obnoxious and overwhelming and yet I find that it is one of my favourite rooms in the house. It is where we often meet as a family.’
Despite the grandeur of the driveway and the imposing entrance to the house, this room did have a homely feel to it. ‘I like it,’ she said, before cringing. Her words had sounded impossibly childlike andgauche. Although why she thought that mattered, she didn’t know. It wasn’t like she wanted to impress Lord Christopher, the opposite, in fact.
‘May I show you my favourite piece in here?’ he asked.
Glancing towards Mama, she saw that she was now about to take tea with the earl and the countess. None of them were paying any attention to them.
‘I should like that,’ she said politely, unsure of where this was going. Shouldn’t they get right in to discussing ways to get out of their shared nightmare? This making small talk was pleasant, she supposed, but there was hardly any point to it. They had no need to learn one another’s ways when they were hopefully not going to know each other for long. But even though she thought it, she did not say it. The words were too blunt, too unkind. She might not be herself right now, but she never wanted to be cruel.
Although cosy, the lounge was large, which made the dedication to the blue theme all the more impressive. By the time Lord Christopher brought them to a stop, she had to strain to make out the individual words of her mother and the other two.
‘Here.’ He picked up an ornately carved box, the size of a large hardback book, and held it out to her.
She took it from him, careful not to touch his skin. Holding it up to the light, she admired the elaborate pattern carved on each panel of the box.
‘Do you think it was blue beforehand and picked for this room, or that the buyer requested the piece be painted afterwards?’ she asked, when she had studied it from every angle.
‘I want to think it was found exactly like this and added to the room because it fitted the blue theme rather than the other way around because…’ he leaned over and flipped open a latch she hadn’t noticed ‘…I like to believe I am the only member of this household who has ever known about this.’
Inside was another complexly carved box, the design different but no less beautiful. Taking her time, she studied every loop and whorl, amazed that someone had the patience and skill to produce such a work of art. Finding another latch, she glanced up at him. He was watching her progress intently, a small smile emerging when he realised what she had found. He nodded, indicating that she should open it. Within was yet another box and then another, each one as blue and as gorgeous as the first but each with its own unique design.
‘This is the last one,’ Lord Christopher told her.
She shook it gently. ‘Are you sure? It sounds as if there is something inside.’
‘There is, but it is not a box.’
‘Am I allowed to see?’
‘Of course.’
Lifting the lid, she found four tiny warriors, holding miniature swords, their blue faces somehow fierce despite their diminutive size. She took one out and held it up towards the window to get a better look. ‘I love them.’
When she turned to look at Lord Christopher, he was grinning at her. Heat rushed through her body at the thought that he was laughing at her. But he was stepping forward, holding out his hand to take back the miniature toy. ‘I am glad you like them. I used to play with them when I was younger. They were my secret, and now yours too.’
Not sure how to take that, she watched as he reassembled the box, taking more care with it than she would have thought, given his reputation as an irresponsible rogue.
‘Why did you show me that?’
