As her face heated, she looked around at those who were near, but they paid her no mind at all.
Surely if she had said something so scandalous they would be watching her.
Would she welcome him if he came to her? Would she want to be his lover?
“Yes.” She would.
“What did you say?” Elizabeth asked.
Blythe blinked at her friend.
“You said, ‘yes’.”
“Yes, in that these are the ones for the entry at Athena’s Salon.” As to prove her point and not encourage further questions from Elizabeth, she gathered a bouquet of tulips and wrapped them in paper so that she could pay for her purchases.
Perhaps she was a wicked widow after all.
She would be happy to take Orlando to her bed, if he would but have her.
Except, it had been so long, Blythe wasn’t even certain she remembered what to do and Orlando seemed to prefer the most experienced women.
It was foolish.
She did not need a lover and even if she decided to take one, it would not be a man who enjoyed prostitutes. She’d heard enough talk on the Continent that men rarely avoided certain diseases from such encounters and she certainly didn’t want to catch anything unpleasant from Orlando.
Which was truly a shame because she had no doubt that he would make an excellent lover.
Orlando was dragging his feet as he crossed the square in Covent Garden. He’d not slept the night before and was not certain when he would find his bed today but hoped that it was soon.
His intention was to purchase some fruit from a vendor and then walk to the office that he shared with Dr. Xavier Sinclair where he knew patients could be waiting. After that, he would make his way upstairs and fall into bed.
Except, those intentions were altered as soon as he neared the flower vendors and saw Blythe, her arms filled with pink tulips, wandering the stalls.
This was a sign, even though he did not believe in such things, and this opportunity to speak with her would not be squandered, especially since they were in an open market and not among the ton who would wonder about their connection.
With those thoughts, he marched directly to the end of the row that she was walking and waited and watched as she stopped to peruse the flowers, his patience well settled because he was able to watch and take in her gentle smile, the soft curve of her cheek, the delicate midnight curls that had escaped her chignon and the purse of her lips as she contemplating making a purchase. By the time she neared him, Orlando was more determined than ever to claim her.
She did belong to him.
“Lady Blythe,” he greeted as she turned from the last stall and faced him. Her blue eyes grew and she nearly stumbled back.
“I hope that I did not surprise you.”
“I did not expect to see you here.”
“I thought to purchase fruit,” he answered. “Are the flowers for your home?”
“Athena’s Salon,” she answered then sniffed.
Whatever surprise may have been on his side was now extinguished and Blythe stared at him as if waiting for him to say something and then she would be on her way.
“It was good to see you last evening.”
She nodded. “Unexpected but I am glad to see you are well.”
She spoke as if they’d only had occasional conversations, nearly strangers when they’d shared so much more.
“I would like to call on you.”
