Before Rosalinde could respond, Mr. Fitzgilbert asked Stenfax a question and the earl’s attention was drawn away from her. She supposed it was for the best. If she’d been allowed to praise Gray, she feared her growing feelings for the man would have been evident to all at the table.
And those were feelings she could not share. Not with him. Not with anyone. They were bound to be enemies. And even when their war was over, that didn’t mean they had leave to even be friends. She would be pulled from the warmth of his life, back to the chilly existence her grandfather allowed.
It was better not to grow accustomed to Gray’s fire. Or to even so much as imagine she could find a permanent place in his arms, in his world, or in his life.
Chapter Fourteen
Gray stepped into the parlor, his brow wrinkled as he scanned the room. The previous night he’d been roaming the halls, unable to sleep when he was plagued by thoughts of Rosalinde. He had secretly hoped to find her and perhaps purge his building desire once more. Instead, in his distraction he’d lost track of the book he’d carried with him through the dark.
“Are you looking for this?”
He turned to find Celia seated in a chair beside the fire. She was holding up a slim volume, the very one he sought.
“Indeed, I am,” he said, hearing the harshness that always seemed to accompany a conversation with this woman. He’d found the best way around his contempt for her was to avoid her. “Thank you.”
He slipped the book free from her fingers and bowed slightly.
“You needn’t go,” she said, stopping him before he could exit with any semblance of grace or politeness. “Won’t you join me?”
He barely held back a curse. Well, there was no avoiding this now. He would have to sit with her.Talkto her.
“Of course,” he managed through clenched teeth, and took the place across from her.
“Tea?” she asked, motioning to the pot on the table beside her.
He shook his head. “No, thank you.”
A slight smile turned up her lips, a secret one like she’d thought of something amusing that she did not share. “All right, then it is straight to business, yes?”
Gray blinked in confusion. “Business? Do we have business, Miss Fitzgilbert?”
She tilted her head slightly. “Come now, of course we do. I have long been wanting to speak to you alone, Mr. Danford.”
He leaned back in his chair and folded his hands in his lap, trying not to react to this unexpected development. “So you are to be direct.”
“You may not believe this—in fact, I suspect you will not—but I try as often as I can to be honest and direct in all things.” She lifted her brows, as if waiting for him to deny what she said could be true.
“I don’t think I know you well enough to call you a liar,” he said, refusing to allow her the satisfaction she sought.
If he had expected her to scowl or whine at his attitude, she didn’t. Instead, she laughed. He’d never heard her laugh before. Celia was almost always somber around his brother or the family. Now he found the sound was actually pretty, though certainly not as moving as when her sister did the same.
“We both know that youbelieveme to be a liar,” Celia finally said. “There is no use pretending something else.”
He pursed his lips. “And did you want to talk to me in order to convince me otherwise?”
She shook her head at once. “Heavens, no. That would very likely be an exercise in futility, for once you believed me a liar, my denying the same would be fruitless. I can only hope that my actions will eventually speak for themselves and that at some point you will come to at least accept me.”
“And at most?”
“It might be too much to hope that one day you would like me.” The laughter left her voice, and she sighed. “But that is trulynotwhat I wish to discuss with you.”
“No, so you said,” he drawled, watching her face carefully. “Which leaves me to wonder what other topic you and I could possibly discuss, given all you’ve said.”
“I want to talk to you about Rosalinde,” she said, this time her voice soft yet firm.
Tension coursed through his body. He knew Celia was aware of what had gone on between Rosalinde and him. He supposed he should have been ready for such a confrontation. Of course, he had no idea of Celia’s motives when it came to this. She could be hoping to use the indiscretion to keep him from pursuing his campaign to prevent her marriage from taking place.
And if she was, well, that would certainly reveal a great deal about the character she claimed to possess.
