Was there a reason he wanted to speak with her?
She recalled their last conversation, wherein he said, I had hoped that something more could develop between us, perhaps a courtship. I truly enjoy your company, Lady Antonia, but I can no longer be the fellow who constantly chases after you. I call at your home, but am turned away, and when you do grant me a waltz, you run away as quickly as you can. I no longer wish to play the fool. It was a pleasure to know you.
She had never forgotten what he had said, or how her heart had broken, though she hadn’t been surprised. But she also hadn’t expected him to ever speak to her again.
Oh, this was madness. Hopefully it would be a short walk and she’d not need to say much and then it would never happen again.
“Have you finished eating, Lady Antonia?”
She glanced up to note that all his food was gone.
“You have hardly eaten a thing.”
Why did he have to be so concerned with her. “I was not as hungry as I thought.”
He smiled and stood. “Shall we stroll?”
Antonia swallowed against the tightening of her throat. “Yes.”
Chapter Four
If Philip did not know better, he would have thought Lady Antonia was frightened of him.
Did she not want to accompany him on a stroll? He thought she at least liked him. She had in London, even if it was only to waltz.
“Cove or garden?” he asked as they emerged onto the terrace.
“Whichever you prefer.”
She’d never been this shy, nor uncomfortable when they had strolled in Hyde Park. Those had also been chance meetings, which he took advantage of to spend time with her. Lady Antonia had not been nervous then, though a shyness had lingered, but they had still conversed. She now barely looked at him and behaved as if she wanted their time together over as quickly as possible.
“We could also sit here.” There was an arrangement of furniture and nobody else was about. He had only asked her to walk with him because he didn’t want to be bothered by his family or have them intrude on his conversation.
“If you would prefer.”
Lady Antonia kept her hands folded before her and only glanced up at him through her dark lashes.
He knew her to be quiet and shy, but never so much with him. At least not as she was now.
“We shall sit here.” That way they were closer to the house so that they could make their escape if the conversation turned difficult.
He indicated to a bench, and she took a seat at the very edge as if she wished to be as far away from him as possible.
Philip sat at the opposite end.
“I know what powers my sisters and cousins possess, and most every witch who was at the ball, but I never did learn yours.” He leaned closer. “It is not the kind of question a gentleman asks in a ballroom or even in a stroll through Hyde Park for fear of being overheard.”
“You knew I was a witch in London?” she asked.
“Petra told me,” he answered.
“What are your powers?” she asked.
He had not brought her out here to talk about him. He wished to come to know more about her, and maybe he would finally understand why she ran after every waltz. If she simply wished to avoid him, she could have turned him down like she did every other gentleman who asked. “I have none,” he answered. “Males born of Drakos blood are denied magical gifts.”
Her eyes widened. “I had not realized.”
“It matters not.” He shrugged. “You still haven’t told me what gifts you possess.”
