Flora’s breath hitched and she blinked at the sudden stinging behind her eyes. “I don’t know what to do if it means something. If I want something.”
Bernadette’s gaze softened, but she didn’t get to say anything else. There was another knock at the door, and this time they both knew it was Roarke, right on time now.
Hendricks brought him to the room, and Flora noted his surprise to see Bernadette, even though he said, “Ah, Your Graces. What a pleasure to find two such lovely ladies waiting for me.”
Bernadette smiled. “You are too kind. I hear you are taking Flora to the Pembroke exhibit. It should be wonderful. All of London is abuzz about it.”
There was a brief moment where Roarke’s eyes moved to Flora and she saw a flaring heat there. But then it was gone. Perhaps she had imagined it. “Yes,” he said slowly.
“Well, I shall leave you to it and head back home for my own afternoon.” She linked arms with Flora and together they all walked to the foyer. They had decided to take her carriage because Roarke only had his horse. Joy appeared from seemingly nowhere and stood by the carriage door, ready to take her place as chaperone.
“Let me help you,” Roarke said to her softly, stepping away from Bernadette and Flora to do just that.
When he was out of earshot, Bernadette leaned in closer. “Just have fun, Flora. Don’t make it more complicated than that.”
She nodded and let Bernadette release her. Her friend waved to them both and then started up the Row back to her home.
Roarke turned back to Flora and his gaze flitted over her. “You look lovely.”
She shifted slightly and tried not to run her hands over herself reflexively. “Thank you.”
He offered a hand and she stared at it. His fingers were encased on brown leather gloves, but she knew when she touched him that she’d feel the reaction anyway. She had the last time she’d taken his arm. A thrill and a terror all at once. Something that made her far too aware of her own body and the nearness of him.
“Thank you again,” she croaked, and finally took his extended fingers, leaning slightly on him as she took her place beside Joy in the carriage. Roarke his across from Flora. She noted how his bigger body filled the seat, how his shiny boot rested just next to her slipper.
When was the last time she’d been so aware of another person? She couldn’t recall it and that made her feel terrible. It should have been Stuart, shouldn’t it? She should have been able to recall feeling this thrill for the man she’d married, loved, genuinely missed.
“Are you a fan of museums in general?” Roarke asked, and she shook away the darker thoughts. Gracious, she was not going to be much of a pleasant companion if she was so serious and dour and lost in tangled emotions.
“Er, yes,” she stammered. “I’m a great fan of art and attend any exhibit I can. I’m also a member of Lady Lena’s Salon, so I enjoy the readings and lectures there, as well.”
Roarke’s eyebrows lifted with interest and she blushed. She hadn’t been trying to brag, but Lady Lena’s was a sought-after membership and a lovely escape for those who belonged.
“I’ve heard a great deal about the salon,” he said. “Is it as wonderful as everyone implies?”
“Even more wonderful,” she said with a smile. “Over the summer they did a lecture series about new discoveries in the field of amphibians. We had a spirited discussion about the recent population reduction of native tree frogs here in England.”
He tilted his head and she stopped talking. Did he find this boring? Stuart certainly had, though he’d indulged her. Was she being silly in being enthralled about such things? She knew not everyone was enraptured by knowledge.
But then Roarke leaned closer. “The species is under threat?”
He seemed genuinely engaged and her heart fluttered. “Potentially,” she said. “And the researcher showed us drawings and talked about their habitats. I’ve never been so interested in frogs in my life.”
He smiled then and she caught her breath. Goodness but he was handsome. Why did he have to be so handsome? “Magnificent,” he said, and he could have been describing himself.
She thought of what Bernadette had said to her earlier in the day. That she wasallowedto think him handsome, to like spending time with him, whether it led to anything or not. That she was free and shouldn’t tie herself in knots about whatever thrill of attraction Roarke inspired.
She shifted. “You know, salon members are allowed to bring a guest to any lecture. I normally take Bernadette when the subject interests her, but she mostly comes to the author readings.”
“Not a tree frog person?”
She laughed. “I think Bernadette would be snoring in three minutes if I tried to talk to her about tree frogs. Her eyes would glaze right over.” Flora shook her head. “She’s brilliant about music or books, but I don’t even think she likes frogs.”
“Capital offense,” Roarke laughed.
“Yes. Clap her in leg irons!” She swallowed hard. “If-if you’d like to join me at the salon some time, I’d be happy to be your hostess.”
There was a flicker of something that came over his expression. Something like longing, only it was gone so quickly she had to think she imagined it. His smile became more false as he nodded. “If we are both in Town at the same time, that would be a very kind offer.”
