Judith’s throat choked with emotion. Trey was trying to protect her secret. Her heart melted.
“Oh, no wonder you are so distraught.” Isabelle stroked Judith’s moist cheek.
Judith nodded. “When I realized I only imagined seeing him, all the grief and pain I have experienced of late came gushing forth.” She sniffed and wiped her eyes again. “I’m truly sorry for ruining your afternoon.”
“Nonsense, my dear. You didn’t ruin it. I’m just relieved you’re all right. The way you dodged in and out of those movingcarriages had me swooning with fear. Then when I saw Trey run in the street after you and he was nearly run over, I thought my heart would fail for sure.”
“Again, please forgive me for worrying you so.”
The dowager patted Trey’s arm. “Son, will you please escort us back to the dress shop? Mrs. André still requires measuring for Judith’s gown.”
“Yes, Mother.”
The older woman looked back at Judith. “Can you manage to walk by yourself?”
Judith nodded. “I shall be fine, thank you.”
Trey stepped away from her but hooked her hand over his arm, keeping her close as they walked back to the shop. She didn’t mind. She didn’t even care about the raised eyebrows people threw her way as they passed. But if they had seen her display a few minutes ago, they would have thought she’d gone insane for a brief time. Maybe she had.
Trey brushed his fingers along her arm. “How are you faring? Better?” he whispered.
Familiar tingles swept through her from the soft timbre of his voice. Heaven help her, but she wanted to be back in his strong embrace.
“Yes, I’m better. Thank you for…for being there. I didn’t know you were in London.”
“Did Mother not tell you?”
“She just said you were away on business.”
“I am. I will be in London for a couple more days.” He grinned. “Try not to miss me, all right?”
A laugh erupted out of nowhere, and she covered her hand over her mouth. He chuckled too as his eyes twinkled.
“Your mother wants me to plan another dinner party. Will you be able to attend?”
He raised his brow. “That all depends.”
“On what?”
“On if you decide to make the food spicy again.”
She smiled. “I promise to have Betsy prepare the blandest food you have ever tasted.”
“When is it?”
“In two days.”
He nodded. “I shall certainly try to be there.”
The beat of her heart knocked crazily against her ribs. “You had better come. I will not know a soul other than your mother and Lord Hawthorne.”
“Oh, I’m quite certain you will mingle just fine.” He winked.
“But, I would really like you there, nonetheless.”
“Indeed?”
“Yes. Will you promise to come?”
