He nodded,acknowledging the truth she spoke. “I did. And, if you ask thosewho know, I squandered it.”
The sheerbitterness of his words stopped her harsh rejoinder. “And if Iasked you?” she finally said.
For a longmoment, he stared at her. Then, he said, “Did you know I was in anaccident?”
She could thinkof no reason to prevaricate. Slowly, she nodded.
He nodded also.“I was bedridden for two years. The only reason I now walk is blindluck: the physician who happened upon me had some radical notionsand I was in no position to refuse his care. My prognosis was…notgood. It was either submit to his wild theories or—” He swallowed.“They were going to amputate,” he finished softly.
She could nottear her gaze from him. He—he had gone through that?
“After my flesh knitted, I could not move—not well, not as Idid before. Dr. Griffiths had me exercise, he and his assistantmanipulated my muscles, and in time and with a huge amount of work,I was able to walk. Now, if I don’t exercise regularly, my musclesseize, the pain becomes worse, and I cannot move.”
Exhaling slowly,he raised his gaze to hers. “With what remained of my inheritance,I funded Dr. Griffiths so he could help others as he didme.”
Around them,other patrons laughed and ate their ices, and weren’t in the midstof their heart breaking. She cleared her throat. “Yes. Clearly, yousquandered your inheritance.”
Startled darkeyes met hers.
She shiftedunder his intense stare. “Why do you look at me so?”
“Whoare you?” he asked.
“What do you mean? You know who I am.”
After anotherlong stare, he shook his head.
Uncertain whyhe’d asked such a thing, she firmed her shoulders. Ultimately, itdidn’t matter why. “Who are these persons who believe yourinheritance wasted?”
His lipstwisted. “My brother.”
“Lord Roxwaithe?” she asked, surprised.
He nodded once,sharply.
“Whywould he think that?”
“Whywouldn’t he think it? He has always thought me useless.”
Such bitterness.She wanted to ask him why. Why did his brother think him useless?Why did he allow it? But Stephen’s shuttered expression declaredlouder than a verbal protest he would not answer.
“Ihave only ever seen my father once, and my mother never.” She wasmore surprised than he that she’d spoken.
She saw againher father behind the desk in Tidswell House’s study, his fiercescowl. “My father is away to Ceylon, and returned to England onlyonce upon my mother’s death. My mother, she never returned fromItaly. She is buried there.”
“Weare both poorly served by our families.”
Her eyes burnedand she could not speak. Again, the mundane commotion of the teashop surrounded them. Murmured voices and the clink of metal onplates.
“We've exceeded our allotted time,” he finally said. “Let uscollect your maid and be on our way.”
She could onlynod. Taking the hand he offered, she allowed him to escort her fromthe table, their half-eaten ices left forlornly behind. Ahead,Delphine spied their movements, abandoning her own ice to make herway to them.
Stephen’s gazedrifted past Sera and his expression changed, becoming heavylidded. “Lady Seraphina, you’ve come undone,” hemurmured.
“Ibeg your pardon?” The words had barely past her lips before hishand gently cradled hers, turning her palm upwards. His fingerstraced a path of the sensitive middle, over the mound of her thumb.Though she wore gloves, she could feel the heat from his fingers,the gentle caress of his skin trailing over hers through the cloth.He drifted over her wrist, and suddenly his fingers met her flesh.She sucked in her breath, and it seemed strangled inside her, hergaze locked on his lowered one as he traced the gap the undonebutton had made between glove and skin.
“AsI said,” his voice was low, intimate. “You’ve comeundone.”
