“Well, of course, he does.” Shakespeare always offered illumination. She bent over the book, and read the words aloud.
Didmyheartlovetillnow?Forswearit,sight,
ForIne'ersawtruebeautytillthisnight.
Ne’er sawtrue beauty till this night. Saw true beauty…
Romeo sees her.
Could it be as simple as that? Thousands of lines of poetry, pages upon pages of prose, endless brush strokes across endless canvases, actors portraying doomed lovers stomping across the stage in a passion, wailing and clutching their breasts, all in the name of love.
After centuries of turmoil, could it be an essential part of love was no more than being trulyseenby another person?
She looked up from the page. “He sees her.”
“Who, Barnaby? Of course, heseesLady Cora. We all see her.”
“Not Lord Barnaby.Romeo. He sees Juliet as she truly is, and she sees him as he truly is, even though he’s wearing a mask in their first scene together. Perhaps it’s not any more complex than that.”
“Forgive me, but if all it took was Barnaby and Lady Coraseeingeach other, they would have fallen in love at age five, and I assure you, they didnot. Barnaby splashed her with mud, and ruined her favorite frock.”
“That’s rather a charming story, really. If you’d concentrate on the matter at hand, my lord, then perhaps they’ll have the chance to tell it to their grandchildren one day. We need to find a way to make Lord Barnaby and Lady Coraseeeach other.”
“In some more dramatic way than across the table at dinner, I assume?”
“People see each other across dining tables every day, Lord Cross, and they don’t all fall in love, do they? I mean they need totrulysee each other.” How could two people fall in love without looking into each other’s eyes?
Theywerethe window to the soul, after all.
“How do you propose we arrange that? Bind them together, facing each other?” He gave her a maddening smirk. “I daresay Barnaby wouldn’t object, but that would be highly improper.”
“If you’re concerned with propriety, Lord Cross, perhaps you’d better stay out of other people’s love affairs altogether.”
“Would that I could have stayed out ofthisone,” he muttered. “I only mean to inquire how you attempt to achieve this deeper intimacy between them. Nothing untoward will do. Lady Drummond is extremely protective of her daughter’s reputation.”
Lady Cora’s reputation was a concern, certainly. If the thing were to be done, it would need to be done delicately. How, though? What reason could she possibly come up with for Lord Barnaby and Lady Cora to stare deeply into each other’s eyes?
She drummed her fingers against the smooth pages of the book, working to shake loose an idea. Dancing was one way to encourage a greater intimacy between couples, but this would require long, quiet moments of uninterrupted gazing without distractions, preferably in a quiet setting. Some sort of game, perhaps, or—
“Oh! I have just the thing!” Goodness, she was better at this than she’d thought.
“Pray don’t keep me in suspense, Miss Templeton.”
There was that amused drawl she’d heard him use so often in London, the one that set her teeth on edge, and made shivers dart up her spine. The drawl she’d never decided whether she adored, or despised.
Messy, indeed.
“I propose we play a game. There won’t be any hunting today, as the weather is frightful still, and your guests will once again be at loose ends. What better way to entertain them than with a parlor game?”
“Doyoufind parlor games entertaining? I find them unbearably dull.”
She sank her fingernails into her palms to smother a sharp retort, offered him a sweet smile, and rose to her feet. “Very well, my lord. I’ll leave you to come up with your own idea, shall I?”
“Wait, Miss Templeton.” He caught her wrist. “I, ah… I beg your pardon.”
Her palm stung from the press of her fingernails, but the firm pressure of his fingers, his thumb against her pulse point overwhelmed every other sensation. Could he feel the way it throbbed against him? Was he aware he was stroking his thumb lazily over that frantic fluttering, stealing her breath before it had a chance to reach her lungs?
Her gaze met his, the air between them crackling.
