“This thing you require my assistance with is in the garden?” Hadleigh asked.
Having led the way to a secluded stone bench surrounded by flowering hedges, Livy turned to face him. The scene was set for romance: music drifted from the ballroom, jasmine perfumed the night air, and the moon glowed like a beacon for lovers. The silvery light limned her hero’s face, emphasizing the stern edges, the lines of experience enhancing his handsomeness. Above the crisp folds of his cravat, his mouth retained a faint curve as he regarded her.
It’s now or never. Do not be a wilting violet. Take your chance.
She took a breath. “I wanted to talk to you. In private.”
“Actually, I wanted the same thing.”
His unexpected reply gave her thumping heart another jolt.
“You did?” she asked.
“Indeed.” His smile curled her toes in her slippers. “We have not seen each other much of late, and I have missed your company, Livy.”
Mesmerized by his tender expression, she felt light-headed with hope. Had Hadleigh realized that he was in love with her? Had he missed her as much as she had missed him?
“Then why haven’t you called more often?” she blurted.
When her question snuffed out his tender expression, she wanted to kick herself. His long lashes briefly veiled his gaze before he spoke.
“I’ve had business to attend to,” he said.
“What kind of business?”
“Nothing of import, little one.”
“I am not little anymore,” she retorted. “I am a grown woman.”
“Right. How could I have forgotten?” Reaching over, he tweaked one of her artfully dislodged curls. “You are so ladylike these days. Not at all like the tree-climbing hoyden I once knew.”
Gah. She would not let him evade her question, however.
“Do these ‘matters’ concern Lady Fayne?” she asked suspiciously.
“No, I only met the lady tonight.” He drew his brows together. “Why would you bring her up?”
Because I have a silly, envious heart?
“No reason,” Livy muttered to the pebbly path.
“Well, I do have a reason for wanting to have you to myself for a moment.”
At the teasing note in his voice, she looked up and saw him take a box out of his pocket. Her brain did giddy measurements: was the box small enough to contain…a ring?
Don’t be a twit,she chided herself.That isn’t just putting the cart before the horse; it is putting it in a different field entirely. Be grateful that he thought to bring you anything.
“This is for me?” she asked breathlessly.
“No, it is for the other chit whose birthday ball I am currently attending.” He aimed his gaze heavenward. “Go on, take it. Unlike you, I am not a spry young thing. My arm is getting tired.”
“You are hardly in your dotage,” she rejoined. “And what is the point of gaining all that muscle if you cannot even hold up a jeweler’s box?”
“Vanity, of course,” he drawled.
She snorted. “You are the least vain person I know. You don’t care what others think.”
He gave her a true gift then: his rare, slow smile. As a girl, eliciting that smile had always made her feel as if she’d won a precious prize. Now her chest squeezed with longing.
