“Why are we here?” Sophie asked
“We are going into that shop.” He pointed to the third one along.
“Why?”
They were still close to each other, neither having taken a step back. He had a gentle look in his eyes she’d rarely seen.
“I doubted your claim to being a countess?—”
“With good reason,” Sophie cut in.
He placed his hand over her mouth.
“I doubted your claim, asked you personal questions, and was rude to you, and you took everything as a countess would… because while you were not born with a title, it’s my belief you are better fitted to have one than many.”
She pulled his hand away. “What are you saying?”
“That I’m sorry. That I let my need to know everything cloud the fact that you’re a good person and what you and Lady Carstairs did was to save you both.”
“It was wrong,” Sophie whispered.
“Possibly. But had you not done it, we would never have met, and that would have been a shame.” He kissed her softly right there in the street. “So this is my apology.”
“You shouldn’t do that where people can see,” Sophie said, looking around them, her lips tingling from his kiss.
“I don’t care if people see. Now come.” He took her hand.
The words in the window said Lundell’s Emporium in gold writing. Patrick opened the door and ushered her inside.
“I don’t understand why we are here,” she said, looking at him.
“Look around you. Do you see anything you might like? Because someone told me you collected figurines.”
“Amelia?”
“She was the original source,” he said, smiling.
“Do you like figurines?” she asked Lord Coulter.
“No. I loathe them because they collect dust and have no practical use. However, one of my sisters loves them. I have broken and replaced a few over the years.”
He would have been a good brother, Sophie thought, for all his time was spent learning to become the earl who stood before her today. Why did just looking at him make her feel on shaky ground?
“Have a look around.” He nudged her.
“I have only one small figurine that can in no way be classed as a collection like Amelia’s.”
“No doubt because she has a head start on you. Go,” he said, placing a hand on her back and urging her away from him.
Sophie went to the first tall cabinet and was examining the contents in seconds.
By the fourth, she knew Patrick’s patience was wearing thin because he was tapping his fingers on the bench beside him.
“Well, have you selected something to purchase?” he asked with a strained smile.
“May I remind you this was not my idea. You brought me here.”
He dogged her footsteps as she walked through the shop. In no way could she say his presence was a comfortable one, but he had been kind to bring her here, even if it was his idea of hell.
