She almost gasped.What an awful thing to say! How could he know—?
“You are kind and forgiving. I can only imagine the tongue-lashing I would receive if I’d behaved thusly toward any other female member of theton.”
Adelia realized he was complimenting her and not referring to her shyness or her stuttering.
“You had a reason,” she suggested softly, carefully, slowly.
His eyes lit up, and he nodded. “I did, in fact. Thank you for understanding.”
Thereupon, the kitchen maid brought in the tea tray.
“Tea?” Adelia offered.
Lord Burnley hesitated before replying, “Thank you. I will.” He gestured for her to sit so he could as well.
As she poured, Adelia hoped he would enlighten her on his reason for not making it to their final dance. He didn’t. Instead, he watched her with scrutinizing eyes, nearly making her hand shake as she passed him a cup and saucer.
*
Owen thought herthe sweetest of females, while having a strength about her, too. He was grateful she hadn’t forced him to discuss his ridiculous quest of the previous night, which had taken him upstairs into their host’s private apartments. He’d unforgivably ransacked Lord Tourney’s wardrobe, looking for handkerchiefs. When the notion took hold of him, it was like a fevered madness.
By the time he’d returned to the ballroom, Lady Adelia had left.
As she raised her cup to her lips, he made a decision.
“May I escort yousomewhere?” he asked rashly, his tongue getting ahead of him.
She frowned at his cryptic query.
“That is to say, I wish to take you to the theatre. Tomorrow night,” he amended as a plan formed. “Do you enjoy Shakespeare?”
She nodded.
They were back to barely speaking, it seemed.
“You do, or yes, you will go with me?”
She hesitated a long while, and he feared he was about to be shot down like a pheasant on the first day of October.
“Yes, I like Shakespeare,” she agreed and added, “We have a box.”
“No matter. My family has a box at the Theatre Royal. One of Shakespeare’s gloomy history plays is there at present. One of theRichardsor theHenrys.”
Slowly, she said, “Perhaps it isyou, my lord, who does not enjoy Shakespeare.”
While her words were proffered with no hint of a jesting tone, she was plainly teasing him, a good sign, suggesting a burgeoning relationship at the very least. He wanted that.
He wanted her!The notion struck him out of the blue, and he couldn’t gainsay it, despite knowing it was a dreadful time to form an attachment. He was mourning Sophia and desperate to find her killer. Nevertheless, some feelings couldn’t be tamped down. His body was already attuned to Adelia’s from dancing with her. He knew her citrusy perfume, her generous curves, her warmth. And he wanted all the rest of her that he hadn’t yet seen.
“May I fetch you tomorrow night and escort you to the theatre?”
Despite having asked her once already, this direct question caused her to jiggle the cup she was lifting to her pretty lips. Whether with alarm or happy anticipation, Owen couldn’t fathom, but drops of tea spilled over the skirt of her day gown.
“Drats!” she exclaimed, perhaps the loudest word he’d heard from her.
After sending him a tremulous smile as if he might be offended, she yanked a handkerchief from her sleeve.
His attention instantly focused on that small square of linen as she dabbed at her skirt.
