Hyacinth wanted it. So much that a shiver chased down her back, but something in her wouldn’t allow herself that.
“That won't be necessary.”
“Well, then you're going to have to lean on me and hobble.” He gathered her closer with an arm around her back, and they took a few steps on the gravel path.
The pain had subsided, and they made it up onto the veranda a few moments later.
Hyacinth hesitated as they crossed the stones. “I don’t wish to go back in there.” Perhaps it was prideful, but she didn’t wish to hobble through the crush.
Tristan pulled her a bit closer and led her to the stone bench that edged the veranda.
“If you wait here, I'll go inside and speak to Edgerton.”
“Oh, I don’t?—”
“If they're not prepared to leave,” he said, forestalling her worry about cutting short their evening, “I’ll have our carriage brought round to drive you home.”
His jaw had hardened into a determined set that was unfairly appealing.
“Thank you,” she told him with a smile. “You're being very kind.”
Tristan shrugged. “I'm being what any gentleman should be when they've caused another harm.” His mouth twitched into a flash of a smile. “You're being far too forgiving. I shall add that to your list of merits.”
“Please do.”
One of those deep rumbling chuckles made him dip his head. “At some point, perhaps I'll have the opportunity to add some to my list. Or at least remove the smear of being a man who steps on a lady's foot.”
“If I've forgiven you, then the smear has been removed.”
“You’re too kind by half, Miss Bridewell.”
“Hyacinth.” She ached to hear him say her name.
“Hyacinth,” he murmured, almost as if he was savoring the sound of it.
Or perhaps she was so enamored that she hoped that he had.
“Then you must call me Tristan.”
“Tristan.” Said a thousand times in her mind but never to the man himself, and it felt so achingly right to do so.
“Will you be warm enough?”
The day had been warm, but the night had turned cool.
Before she could answer, he shrugged out of his tailcoat, approached, and settled it around her shoulders.
Her mouth watered at the heady scent ofhimthat surrounded her.
“Stay there and I shall returned quickly,” he commanded.
Hyacinth nodded, and then he was striding back inside.
She drew off her glove so that she could brush her bare fingers along the fabric of his coat. So deliciously warm. Closing her eyes, she breathed in his spice and citrus scent.
He’d been so kind, so attentive, and yet she understood he was behaving as he thought a gentleman ought to.
Still, she couldn’t resist hoping that, one day, he might treat her with such care for quite different reasons.
