“Never again,” I stated, then turned on my heels and left her to trail after me, protesting all the way back to Rycliffe House.
Eight
40 BLOOMSBURY STREET, LONDON - JUNE 6, 1816
TOM
He hadn’t recognized me.Again. My lips still tingled from kissing his cheek and I was nothing to him.
It was, perhaps, even worse than our first meeting. Our first meeting had been brief; Rosehill was distracted. I hadn’t spent the entire night before floating on a delicate cloud of joy, hope, and wonder—with a little lust for good measure.
My chest ached as I strode the five or so minutes to my apartments at a clip. The air was too muggy, remnants of last night’s rain lingering in city soot.
There had been a split second when I saw him, recognized his frame from behind, when my heart had stopped in giddy delight. And then he sent it all crashing down.
What was it about me that was so forgettable?
I was generally good at this sort of thing—speaking to people, putting them at ease. Hell, I’d spent my entire life sheltering one brother from the verbal impact of the other.
But something about Xander—Rosehill—turned me into a bumbling fool.Kidnapped by pirates? Truly? Could I have said anything more absurd?
And he planned to travel. If he chose Scotland… he would be gone until spring at least. It was preposterous to feel an ache in my chest at the prospect of a man I’d had one—admittedly life-altering—conversation with preparing to travel for a few months.
The familiar black door creaked as I pushed it open. My apartment was small, just a kitchen and dining area, a closet-sized study, a pitiful drawing room and bedroom. In fact, I employed only a part-time maid whom I shared with the doctor who lived above me.
I collapsed in a heap on the bed, lamenting almost immediately that I would need to rise if I wished for a drink. Worse still, if I was to be even close to timely for dinner at Grayson House, I needed to leave in an hour—though the thought exhausted me.
The inclination to wallow in my own self-pity was strong. That was a Grayson trait I wasn’t overly proud of. Even Michael, who hadn’t inherited the name, had a tendency to disappear into depression and drink when the walls crumbled in.
Xander had been so perfect last night—flustered in the best possible way. His dark gaze had flicked up and down my form, leaving me aware of my musculature, of my own skin, in an entirely new way. He had been open, so devastatingly honest that I was breathless for more. I would remember last night for the rest of my life, the same way I would Hugh’s wedding.
I rolled to one side, facing the door. An internal war was waging between duty and apathy, and I wasn’t certain which would win when a glint of light caught my gaze.
Sitting on the bedside table, a delicate little snuffbox shot the setting sunbeam back into my eyes. Sometime after I moved outof Grayson House and into this place, it had migrated from the drawer below to a place of honor on top. And every night, I fell asleep staring at it like a pathetic milksop.
Mother had feigned a megrim,which was a key ingredient in a pleasant supper. Of course, I had a megrim of my own brewing behind my eyes, which had made it even more difficult to leave the comfort of my bed and return to Grayson House.
More than two years ago, Kate hosted her first family supper with only Mother, Michael, Hugh, and me in attendance. The addition of Juliet and Kit tended to put Mother off, though she had warmed to Kit with the new title. Mother was a fickle creature.
What a difference two years made. Far from the stilted supper where Mother tossed barbs at Kate and spit venom at Michael while I tried to act as shield for them both, now the conversation was animated and jovial—at least when Mother absented herself.
“So truly, none of the ladies caught your eye the other evening?” Kate asked her brother.
“Kate…” he warned in a low growl.
“I’m not allowed to inquire any longer?”
“You were never allowed to inquire.”
“Well perhaps if you would tell me what you were looking for in a lady I might be able to narrow my search.”
“Any lady you introduce me to now would have scoffed at me a year ago.”
“Kate, leave him be. He’s young,” Hugh said, trying to save his brother-in-law.
“He’s older than you were when you married me.”
“Yes, and he was too young to marry,” Michael added with a laugh. “Not every gentleman can have Hugh’s unearned good fortune.”
