“Do not try to flatter me in front of my acquaintances, doctor. I will not be fooled again.” She leaned toward Aunt Belle, though her eyes remained on James. “You know, he left me alone for a good hour during the opera and when he returned, he had completely forgotten to retrieve for me a beverage.”
“The insolence,” Belle said, though she winked, obviously used to the complaints of her elderly friend. “I should never again refer such a ruffian to escort you to the opera.”
Grace tilted her head.
“You did?” she asked, the cogs of her mind turning slowly.
There was something suspicious about that, but Grace couldn’t seem to recall what.
“Ah, yes, but that is neither here nor there. Tell me, Dr. Hall, did Grace mention our trip to Kelvingrove Park with Mr. Milton?”
“Aye, she did. I hope you all have a pleasant time,” he said.
Belle frowned.
“Will it not interfere with Grace’s apprenticeship? I should think you would have a bit more to say on the matter.”
“I do not. If Miss Sharpe wishes to attend a picnic,” he said evenly, “I cannot stop her. Now, if you ladies will excuse me.”
“Where are you going?” Grace asked.
“Goodness, child, never ask a man such a thing, unless you wish to be made a fool,” the baroness said. She lifted her hand and shooed him away. “Leave us, if you must.”
James did not hesitate and so with a final nod, he turned and left, moving into the crowd with surprising ease. And it wasn’t lost on Grace that while she had practically confessed to her feelings for him, he seemed disheartened by her upcoming visit with Mr. Milton. But why? She had already expressed that she viewed the man as a friend and nothing more, and even if Mr. Milton expressed something different, well, she would simply explain to him that she didn’t have any sort of affection for him. That her heart was otherwise engaged, because wasn’t it?
“Hm,” Belle mused. “That did not go as I expected it to. Well, this just will not do. I shall have to call in the cavalry.”
Grace frowned.
“What cavalry? What are you talking about?”
Belle glanced at her, shaking her head.
“Nothing, my dear. Do not worry yourself about it.”
For the remainder of the evening, she did not see James, and Grace contemplated what she had done or said to make him leave. By the time she, Belle, and Arabella returned home, she had come to the conclusion that she had somehow hurt him, but as she undressed in her room late that evening, she couldn’t see how. Just because she was friendly with another man, didn’t mean—
Oh.
The realization hit her suddenly and without warning. She was friendly with another man, while expressing her feelings for James, just as Catriona had done, right before abandoning him at their wedding.
Grace slapped her hand to her forehead. How could she be so insensitive? So blind to her own actions? Of course, James would behave strangely! He had lived this very situation before, only it had ended poorly for him.
As she got into bed, she couldn’t let go of the fact that she had been so blatantly foolish. She would rectify this immediately.Tomorrow morning, she would apologize and hopefully he would forgive her for her supposed indifference. Because in truth, indifference was the furthest emotion from how she felt about James.
And tomorrow, she would tell him so.
Chapter Fifteen
James awoke ina sweat the next morning, having suffered some sort of nightmare he could barely recall. Something about a graverobber but they hadn’t stolen a body? His hand came to his face as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and scratched his beard, considering not for the first time whether or not he should shave and be done with it.
Rolling out of bed, he went to the mirror that hung on the exterior wall, above the water table. The early morning light illuminated a reflection that appeared tired and discontented. He let out a snort. Of course he looked miserable. He was, and there wasn’t anything he could do about it.
Bending down, he splashed the chilly water over his face, glad to have the invigorating distraction to try and dissuade visions of Grace from entering his mind. But having seen her last night in a gown that had all but demanded every ounce of his attention, well, it was difficult not to.
His hands gripped the edge of the porcelain bowl as his gaze wandered out his window. Her room was still dark, likely because she hadn’t returned home until very late. Had she danced again with Mr. Milton? Had she finally realized that her even temper and clever speech could entice the entire city to fall in love with her if she so wished it? Or had she realized, just as Catriona, that perhaps there was someone better for her, more suited to her lifestyle?
Mr. Milton was a rich man, almost obscenely so, and while new money wasn’t particularly welcome in the upper social circles of London, he would undoubtedly be able to provide her with whatever she wished should she change her mind on marrying.
