“Any and all forms, or just large bodies of it?”
She could see the small tilt to his lips. He was enjoying teasing her.
“Large,” she said with a smile on her face that in no way reached her eyes. “We all have phobias, Lord Stafford.”
“Oh indeed, Jamie loathes snails,” Lord Hamilton said from in front of them, as clearly he had been listening again.
She couldn’t be sure, but thought Lord Stafford’s teeth just snapped together.
“Indeed, if you want to bring him to heel, wave a snail in front of him. It’s the slimy underside that makes him squeal.”
“I have never squealed a day in my life, and I’ll thank you not to share any more of my secrets or I shall start doing the same.” Lords Hamilton and Corbyn said nothing further. Their wives, however, weren’t so quiet.
“What secrets do you have on them?” Lady Hamilton demanded.
“Nothing,” both Lords Hamilton and Corbyn said at the same time, making Alice laugh.
Lord Stafford smiled at her and this time it was genuine, and the effect had her blinking. The man looked younger suddenly, and approachable. As if he was not plagued by demons as her brother had once been. She found herself returning the gesture.
They continued to move with the others along the Serpentine, as a breeze stirred the water, rippling the surface like someone was stroking it. Her skin prickled suddenly, the fine hairs at her nape rising. Looking around, she tried to discover why. Was someone watching her?
She glanced sideways, careful to keep her expression blank, but her eyes flicked across those nearest. People were strolling, chatting and laughing. Nothing amiss. And yet, beneath the polite bustle of the park, she could feel it. Something wasn’t right.
“What is wrong, Lady Alice?” Lord Stafford murmured, his deep voice pitched so only she might hear.
“Nothing.”
“Your shoulders are rigid. Like a horse about to bolt.” His head bent, his lips dangerously close to her ear. “What do you see?”
“Nothing,” she said swiftly. Too swiftly.
His gaze lingered on her profile, but he said nothing more.
Up ahead, Lady Hamilton had slowed her step so the women could examine the feathers on another lady’s bonnet. The conversation swirled with chatter about Paris fashions and the impossibility of obtaining the right dye for ribbons this Season. Alice answered when addressed, but her eyes drifted again across the crowd.
There, by the boats. A man in a plain brown coat, his hat pulled low. His stance was too still amid the movement around him. She could not make out his features at this distance, but she had the unsettling impression that he was studying her.
Lord Stafford followed the direction of her glance. His hand closed ever so lightly over hers, where it rested on his sleeve. The brief pressure startled her, and she nearly pulled away.
“Do you know him?” he asked softly.
“No.” Alice forced her lips into a polite curve as Lady Devlin studied them, frowning, as they passed the group she and her daughter stood in.
“And yet he has you unsettled?”
She looked up at him.
“Perhaps it is not you he is watching, but me.”
“Do you know him?”
“I could not say from this distance, but it’s possible, and as I’m sure you don’t have enemies and I do, then it’s very likely it is me he is observing.”
“What enemies do you have?” Alice asked before she could stop herself.
“I may appear a gentleman, my lady, but let me assure you that is not always the case.”
“I do believe that sounded sinister, Lord Stafford.” Alice pushed the words past the dryness in her throat.
