Her Grace was at the window with Maggie, a sweet bun in her hand, reading a paper. Gabriel hulked nearby as though waiting for them to relay something.
Lucas sat on the settee facing away from them with a cup in his hand, his gaze focused somewhere ahead on the red-and-yellow carpet.
Gabriel saw me first. “Miss Wood. Feeling much improved, I hope?”
Lucas’s gaze jolted to mine, and for the briefest moment, I thought I saw fear in his eyes.
Regret?
I wouldn’t let the possibility wound me. I held my head high and smiled. “Much improved, yes. Thank you.”
“Thank heavens,” Gabriel said. “He was moments away from calling for the doctor.” He nodded to Lucas, who set down his cup and pushed up from his seat.
“And you slept?” Lucas’s gaze washed over me like he was examining a patient.
I raised a brow. He was acting strange. Sir Ronald hadbeen angry when I’d kissed him. He would hardly look me in the face. Lucas seemed intent on ensuring I was still in one piece.
“Very well. Thank you.”
“Tea?” he asked, retaking his seat and gesturing to the space beside him on the settee. He poured my cup just the way I liked it, then took a plate and started filling it with food—strawberries, sweet buns, little sandwiches.
“Thank you,” I said as he finished. His kindness was noted by Maggie, too, who watched me take the plate from him and set it on the table in front of us.
Lucas handed me my teacup, then took a slow sip from his. He sat back in his seat, angled toward me, then crossed and uncrossed his legs. “Did you sleep well?”
I paused with the teacup at my lips, watching his right leg start to bounce. “You just asked me that question, Your Grace.”
Lucas ... flushed? His cheeks blossomed pink. “I did not.”
“You did.” I hid my humor behind my teacup. “And the answer is still the same. I slept well, thank you. Did you?”
His eyes flickered about the room, as though to ensure we were speaking privately, then leaned in as though imparting a secret. “It was the best night of sleep of my life.”
Our eyes locked. It felt like a dare, a tease—say something and see what happens next.
I hadno ideawhat might happen next.
My heart drummed against my ribs, terrified. “I am glad to hear it.”
“You look well this afternoon.” His gaze washed over me, cheeks still pink.
My heart ached, absolutely ached for him.
I held his gaze, though being so near him in so intimate a conversation set my chest ablaze.
“I don’t deserve your kindness,” I whispered.
He tilted his head. His knees angled close and bumped into mine. “I don’t think care and affection are something anyonedeserves, Georgiana. I think they are a product of forming attachments.”
Oh, I was done in. Done for. Completely mad for him and for the way he looked at me as though I mattered to him. It was too good to have his attention like this.
His fingers trailed over his knees until they grazed mine. All I did was open my hand, and he took it, entwining our fingers. The touch of his skin on mine spread like wildfire all the way down to my toes. His fingers were warm and rough. Encompassing mine. It felt like a homecoming. Like a hundred butterflies in my chest.
I wanted to feel this way forever.
“Whose carriage is that?” Maggie asked from the window, and I tugged my hand free, twisting round.
He took my hand back, knocking our knees together. “Georgiana, what I said last evening—”
