“That would be perfect, milord.”
“Excellent.” Branford offered her his arm. “Now that we have settled business matters, perhaps we might enjoy a dance.”
Branford offered her his arm, and as her gloved hand settled in place, she felt a sudden awareness of his closeness. A tiny shiver skated down her spine.
“Are you feeling chilled?”
“No, not at all.” she replied, hoping he didn’t notice that a flush of heat was rising to her cheeks.
The music began, and they began to move through the first steps of the dance. Branford made an amusing observation,and she answered in kind … but then her awareness of the conversation seemed to give way to the oddest sensation. Words passed in a blur as the tactile feel of his closeness overwhelmed her—the light touch of his hand at the small of her back, the movement of his muscled thighs grazing the rustling folds of her gown, the subtle scent of his bay rum shaving soap …
Alex was vaguely aware of the music ending, and of the earl guiding her across the room to where her friends from the London Botanical Society were arguing over a monograph on ferns. But before she could rouse herself from the strange mood that overtaken her, Branford was gone.
Ye heavens. Overcome with embarrassment, Alex squeezed her eyes shut.He must think me a bloody idiot, she fretted, the earlier blush coming back in full force. How could she possibly have behaved like such a feather-headed peagoose?—
“Alex!”
Her eyes flew open.
“I’ve been looking all over for you,” said Charles Duckleigh with an aggrieved huff. However, his chiding gaze quickly lit up with a flash of excitement. “I have some momentous news!”
He paused to smooth the knot of his cravat. “My cousin has graciously arranged for the Duke of Wrexham to invite the members of our Society to view his collection of rare orchids! And he has even offered me use of his carriage for the occasion. Mr. Simpson and Mr. Heppleford suggest that we go on next Wednesday.”
To her relief, the strange sensations had disappeared, allowing Alex to answer without a hitch. “Oh, how very nice.”
“May I have the honor of escorting you on the trip? We shall bring a picnic to enjoy on the grounds and be back by suppertime.”
“I would be delighted to be part of the group.” Noting the look of rapture on his face. “How very influential you are becoming,” she added with a playful smile.
It was said lightly, but Duckleigh couldn’t help but throw back his shoulders a fraction, causing his chest to puff out.
Maintaining her smile, Alex allowed herself an inward sigh, thinking of how young men could be so egregiously silly at times.
“Lord Branford is hereto see you, Miss Alex.”
“Please show him in, Givens.” Alex unconsciously smoothed the skirt of her sprigged muslin dress as she rose from the sofa in the small parlor.
“Good morning, Miss Chilton.”
The earl looked as if he had come from riding. He was dressed in snug fitting breeches, polished Hessians and a finely tailored riding coat of claret Melton tailored to fit his broad shoulders with nary a wrinkle. His dark hair was ruffled by the wind, softening the chiseled planes of his face.
The gossips were certainly right on one thing—he was devilishly good-looking.
Alex quickly pushed the thought aside. “Good morning, milord. If you’ll follow me to the library, please.” She hoped that she sounded business-like. For some reason, her voice felt as if it were catching in her throat.
Branford gestured for her to lead the way.
She pushed open the heavy oak door. “Forgive the disarray,” she said, giving a rueful look at the massive table with papers and piles of books spread around in cheerful disarray.
“I fear both my aunt and I are engaged in projects at the moment that occupy all our attention,” she finished lamely. She hadn’t realized things looked quite so chaotic.
Branford shrugged in understanding. “Neatness is said to be the work of idle hands,” he remarked as he walked toward a small easel set in a corner of the room by tall leaded glass windows that faced north.
“Really, milord, I would rather you didn’t?—”
It was too late. The earl had already moved around to observe the work in progress.
Crossing his arms, he stared at it for what felt like an eternity, not saying a word.
