Once he returned to his office, Orlando updated records and reports, read the latest medical texts and looked at the clock frequently. The hands were moving much slower today. He knew they were not, simply his perception of what was turning out to be one of the longest days he had ever experienced with nothing of importance to occupy his time.
Finally, the sky began to darken and he visited the tavern around the corner, ate a quick meal then returned to his chamber to prepare for the night, anticipating that he would not be returning until after the sun had risen tomorrow. He then arrived at Athena’s Salon promptly at eight and was rewarded by the sight of Blythe descending the stairs in a pale blue, shimmering gown, the color that matched her eyes.
The bodice clung to her perfect breasts, pushing them up to nearly spill from the top. A design that only married women and widows were allowed to wear.
His mouth watered because he now knew what her breasts looked like, how they felt and recalled kissing each one.
As desire stirred in his nether regions, Orlando returned his attention to her beauty and humor lit eyes.
He blew out a sigh and walked forward to meet her. “As always, you are enchanting, Lady Blythe.”
A blush stained her cheeks. “Thank you, Dr. Valentine.”
They had not addressed each other as such when alone, but without agreement or discussion, both reverted to proper address for anyone listening.
As she led him into the drawing room, others arrived and before he had a glass of brandy in hand, several people had gathered in various settings and many discussions included the storm from the night before, damage to homes and fallen trees.
He had noted the debris in the streets when he had left. Leaves and limbs littered the ground and some windows had been broken, but such had not truly registered in his mind, nor had he thought about the terrible storm because he was remembering what he and Blythe were doing instead.
Some guests described previous serious storms along the coast and others who had traveled told of storms at seas, and tornadoes in America. It was all anyone seemed to discuss, as well as the scientific reasons for why some storms were stronger than others.
He listened but did not participate. Instead, Orlando watched as Blythe played hostess, going from one group to another, engaging them in conversation. Sometimes she would leave but he knew that she visited the gambling room.
Tonight was different then the two he had been present previously. On those nights, she had spent her time speaking with him. Tonight, it was a greeting but she excused herself as soon as he was served brandy.
He supposed that Blythe couldn’t always be by his side, but had her interest waned now that they experienced the one thing that had been lacking from their association?
That was a troubling thought.
What if her curiosity had been satisfied, the wickedness she embraced settled, and she was now to return to the normality she had enjoyed before they encountered the other after so long.
She laughed at something Lord Percy Evans, Viscount Shrewsbury, said and Orlando did not like it very much.
In fact, he did not like it at all and in that moment realized that he was jealous of any gentleman on whom she bestowed her attention.
Bloody hell!
He should not be feeling this way. She would not suddenly turn from him and seek another, would she?
How wicked did Blythe intended to become?
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Orlando had not joined any conversation but had remained on the far side of the room, sipped his brandy and watched those who had gathered.
His expression was bland and she wondered if he might be bored. If so, then he should take part in a discussion or perhaps gamble.
But then she noticed his frown.
Had something upset him?
She couldn’t imagine what it would be since he had not spoken with anyone except her since his arrival.
A part of her wanted to go to him and ask if all was well, but she had intentionally avoided spending as much time by his side this evening because she did not want her attachment to him noted.
Instead, she bided her time as the evening progressed, then finally approached after the others had left and Athena’s Salon was closed for the night.
“What is wrong?”
