“What a lovely accessory,” he said, gesturing at the twine atop my head.
I reached up and touched it, an embarrassed laugh escaping my throat. “Sophia insisted that I wear one too.”
He shrugged. “I find it quite becomes you.” It was less his words but more the smile that followed that forced my eyes away from his face.
Why must he look at me like that? It was horribly unnerving. A hint of heat began at the base of my neck, burning up into my ears and cheeks. No.No no no.I wasnotblushing.
My gaze darted to Clara. Had she noticed?
Her lips quirked into a smile.
I ignored it and recovered my senses. I looked James in the eye. “Don’t make the mistake of assuming that flattery will increase my affection for you. You are still far belowlove.”
He laughed, leaning toward me and whispering, “Don’t make the mistake of assuming that I care.” The lighthearted look in his eyes shifted, and he shook his head subtly. “I mean to say that you look lovely—whether it increases your affection for me or not.” He quickly flashed a smile, as if trying to soften the meaning behind his words. Surely he was only teasing.
My heart fluttered in my chest and I dared another look at his face. He was sincere. Many men in London had complimented my appearance, and I had never truly cared. But hearing those words from James…the compliment and the look in his eyes made me strangely breathless. For a moment I worried he would stand up again and storm out of the house like he had the week before. I wanted to ask why he had done that, but I didn’t know how.
“Thank you,” I said finally.
He nodded, his eyes never leaving my face, and leaned toward the tea table. I watched as his hands deftly filled a cup with tea. I looked down at my hands, embarrassed. It would be strange to sit here and not drink any tea, but I feared I couldn’t pour it without spilling.
I looked around the room where everyone else was now sitting around the table. Mrs. Abbot was engaged in conversation with Lord Trowbridge, and her daughters were eagerly listening as well.
Taking a deep breath, I reached my good hand toward the tea pot, hoping my injured hand could be sufficient to steady my cup. But as my hand moved close to the handle, James stopped it with his own.
My eyes flew up to his.
“I was filling it for you,” he said. “If you’ll allow me?” He gave a half-smile—just a little quirk of his lips as he reached for the sugar pot. He added one cube to the cup before reaching for the cream. Slowly, he added three drops.
A slow melting sensation started at my head and made me weak all over. I laughed quietly as he glanced at my face for approval.
“I dare you to add a fourth drop,” I said in a quiet voice.
He smiled, placing the cup on a saucer and extending it toward me. “I would rather not be rebuked today.”
I stifled a laugh as I took the cup with my good hand. “Thank you.”
James held the saucer for me as I took a sip. “Well?” he asked expectantly.
“It is perfect.” I replaced the cup, warmth rising to my cheeks again. I scolded myself for my reaction to his kindness. It simply wasn’t acceptable to be so affected by a man. I thought it would be strange to thank him again, so I smiled instead and darted my gaze away, trying to focus on Clara and Lord Trowbridge.
“Are you very fond of music?” I heard Mrs. Abbot ask Lord Trowbridge.
“Indeed, I am.” His eyes flickered to James. “He may murder me for saying so, but my brother is an impeccable musician. He is far too humble to boast of it.”
James straightened his posture, lowering his eyes. I had never seen his confidence waver like this. “My brother exaggerates.”
Lord Trowbridge shook his head. “I don’t. He has a great talent for the pianoforte. He learned to play almost entirely by ear as a child.”
A wave of shock passed through my chest. I could hardly picture James’s strong hands on the keys of a pianoforte.
Mrs. Abbot turned toward James. “Is that so? You must perform for us!”
He looked at his brother, eyes hard, but smiled. “Since I have been betrayed, I suppose I must.”
Lord Trowbridge laughed. I was surprised by the drastic change in his personality. When I had met him, I couldn’t recall seeing him smile at all, not even once. His eyes flickered to Clara and she met his gaze with another shy smile. It was quite obvious what had inspired this change in him. An unfamiliar giddy sensation rose in my chest for Clara and what she had managed to accomplish. How very precious it all was.
My gaze drifted to James as he stood and walked to the pianoforte. I felt a pang of jealousy as he sat down and positioned his hands over the keys. He sat in silence, and I listened, waiting for the first note to ring through the air, wondering which note it could be, and which note would follow. I tried to match a melody with the way he sat, the way he talked and laughed, and the way he lived. But it was impossible. There was too much depth in his eyes and in his heart. A thousand melodies flitted through my mind but none of them fit, and when the first notes rang through the air, my breath caught in my chest.
