Open it,he silently ordered, for he couldn’t clearly see anything more than its whiteness and that there might be an edge of lace.
After wiping at the tea spots, which had almost disappeared into the green of her gown, she was about to tuck it back into her sleeve. Rising from the sofa cushion, he lurched forward across the low table to snatch it from her hand.
“Oh!” she said, surprised, her lovely eyes staring at him.
“Um….” He had no explanation, so he flicked it open. It had no anvil, of course.How stupid of him!He looked at her. “May I assist you?”
Her expression was clear. If he leaned over to touch her, she would undoubtedly shriek. He glanced toward the inevitable potted fern at one end of the room, the domain of the housemaid predictably brought in to protect her mistress. Strangely, the chair beside the plant was empty. It was his turn to be surprised.
“My apology,” he said, handing back her handkerchief. “I overstepped.”
She nodded, tucking her kerchief back into the cuff of her sleeve.
Owen decided to depart before he behaved incorrigibly once again. Setting down his saucer, he stood.
“I shall be here at eight o’clock,” he promised, although she hadn’t exactly said yes.
“Will you?” she asked, rising to her feet. Again, she was teasing him.
“If I’m not, you may send your brother out to blister my hide.”
Her smile fell. Perhaps the reference was too violent for her.
“I will be here,” he promised.
As he rounded the table between them and took her hand, he hoped she wasn’t skittish. She wore no gloves, having been—he spied the tablet and pen—writing letters and apparently not preparing to go out. It was a blissful experience to touch her bare skin, brushing across her knuckles with his thumb. Slightly inappropriate, he did so anyway.
She blinked up at him, and he could see the pulse beating wildly in the hollow of her throat. The knowledge he’d caused this reaction sent a jagged spear of desire racing through him.
Unexpected. Unwanted. Unstoppable. Owen released her hand.
“Tomorrow evening, then, Lady Adelia?”
She still hadn’t said yes, but this time, she nodded in acquiescence, silently glancing at her knuckles.
In a minute, he was back in his carriage, half-astonished at having made an arrangement to see the strangely captivating Lady Adelia. He would not tell his friends or his family. It was too soon to be going out for any purpose other than to hunt down the murderer, even if that hunt took him to balls and dinner parties.
However, there could be no reason for going to the theatre with a lovely, eligible lady except for his own pleasure. And as he sat back against the comfortable squabs, he realized he had no right to any such indulgence, not until he’d seen justice done for Sophia.
What a terrible brother he was!Yet he could hardly go back on his word, or Lady Adelia would think him a heel of the lowest order. He would escort her to the theatre, but he would not invite her out again until the murder was solved.
*
Adelia could thinkof nothing else. She was unable to write her novel, and she even forgot to claim a pounding headache to escape the afternoon’s dreaded gathering on the banks of the Thames. Instead, she drifted on a cloud of anticipation to the boating venue, not minding when she was put in the last rowboat and ignored by the rest of the group.
She was going to the theatre with Lord Owen Burnley!Gracious!
Over dinner, she mentioned it to her brother, whose utter astonishment mirrored her own.
“What is he up to?”
“Whatever can you mean, Thomas? He wants to see a Shakespearean play, and he wants to take me.” She had no idea why but didn’t care. “I thought you wanted me to remain out in society.”
“Yes, I do,” he agreed. “All the same, I doubt there is much to be gained by your being with Burnley. Hardly the steady suitor type. I don’t imagine he’s got marriage in mind, either. Who will accompany you?”
She tilted her head and sent him an imploring smile.
“Areyoufree tomorrow night?” As she asked, she realized having her brother as a chaperone was not ideal. The two men had got off to a bad start.
