“If you let her, I suspect she’d want to see all of this.” She fixed her gaze on the rows of bones he’d meticulously cleaned and sorted. “She might even be eager to help you.”
Tristan had never allowed anyone to assist him with his work and would normally bristle at the very prospect. But he wasn’t bristling now. Odd.
“Will you make sure to ask her to dance?”
The thought of it sent a rush of heat across his nape. His throat was suddenly too dry to answer. He swallowed thickly and said, “If her foot is recovered.”
Emma laughed brightly. “She sent me a letter and she says her foot is fully recovered, and she doesn't want to hear another word about it.”
“I see.”
“I know that you will tease her about it, and she'll probably enjoy that.” She laughed again.
“Does Miss Bridewell?—?”
She’d just turned to depart, but glanced over her shoulder. “Hmm?”
He was going to ask if Hyacinth liked to ride horses. If she enjoyed walks in gardens in general, or simply during balls. If she would be interested in seeing the nearby pond where he and Emma had snuck off to play as children.
In short, he wanted to know her better.
But that was what the house party was for.
“Never mind,” he told his sister. “I’ll find out soon enough.”
Emma’s eyes widened at that. “You’re fond of her, aren’t you? And after only once dance.”
“And crushing her toes.”
Emma looked far too pleased at whatever she saw in his expression.
“Don’t,” he warned. Their father’s expectations were quite enough to contend with.
“I’m just pleased that you two seem to enjoy each other’s company.” She faced him again, then tipped her head down, scuffing the toe of her shoe across the tiles, hands fidgeting with a ribbon at the front of her gown.
“She lost her brother, you know.” The words emerged quietly, hesitantly.
“No, I did not know.”
“Remember when you came home from university after your twentieth birthday and caught a terrible fever?”
Tristan frowned, confused by the sudden shift to topic. “Yes, of course.”
He’d been bedridden for a week and so ill that at one point the family doctor had urged his father to prepare himself for the worst. Emma had been terrified because a fever had taken their mother from them.
“When she told me about the loss of her brother, it reminded me of that terrible week. I thought I might lose you.” When she met his gaze, her eyes were glistening. “That’s why it pleases me that you two get on. Everyone should have a brother as lovely as you.”
Tristan chuckled at the compliment, but then her meaning settled over him.
“So I’m to be a sort of brother to Miss Bridewell too?”
Emma laughed, then turned and finally left the conservatory.
Tristan let out a breath.
Hyacinth Bridewell viewing him in a brotherly light? He grimaced.
No, he didn’t like that prospect at all.
