Wycliff tugged hair away from my face. He thought himself clever, trailing his thumb along my cheek.
It was sweet, a more romantic gesture than the barrister’s.
But I was immune.
Wycliff’s touch would never be a caress that vibrated through me, all the way to my spine. It would never send those tingles and sparks, like embers dancing in a flame.
I’d have to be vulnerable for that. I’d have to trust someone with the intricacies of my thoughts and the intimacy of my body. Never again.
He smiled at me, but I wasn’t stupid. His motives were obvious, despite his patient words. He wanted what Adam had had. He wanted me.
Wycliff cleaned my glasses and returned them to my face. “See. Good as new.”
“You noticed I was broken?”
He frowned but didn’t answer and started us moving again.
He didn’t take the bait of that barb. I was grateful for that. I needed to be me again, a less sarcastic woman who spoke her mind and danced on hot coals because she wanted to. That was me.
“Mrs. Wilky, do you think your mother will approve of me? I left the sjambok in my carriage.”
“A little.” Well, that wasn’t true. Mother would love him, a baron at her house.
If I had to be on a man’s arm, it surely didn’t hurt that Wycliff was big like my father, tall and brawny like him, too.
“Take your time examining me, my Mrs. Wilky, my Ruthy. See what you think of me. I don’t mind the scrutiny.”
With a nod, I did just that and took another glorious look at the handsome man. The beard made him more mysterious. I liked that.
His nose was thin and unremarkable, but his lips, they were smooth and full, something I hadn’t seen on anyone but Blackamoors. “Only Adam called me Ruthy. It’s Mrs. Wilky to you. That will change if I accept the barrister’s offer.”
“Now that is a problem. How did you meet the busy barrister?”
I lowered my head to the baron’s wide chest and couldn’t help but notice how everything fit snuggly to his form.
When I looked up, he smirked. He knew I admired him. “A newspaper advertisement. There’s nothing safe to look at when it comes to you, Lord Wycliff. You are handsome. Maybe I should leave off these spectacles.”
His hands were on mine again. “Is that such a bad thing to be handsome?”
“Yes. Because you do remind me of your cousin.”
“When you speak of Adam, I don’t hear much love.”
“Is it possible to love someone so much and hate him, too?”
The cough, the pause, the next cough said everything I needed to know. No one understood. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be so honest.”
“I needed to know this. As you said, I’m nosy.”
“Let’s keep moving, Lord Wycliff. Someone will talk.”
He started guiding me, but I saw questions bubbling.
“Why did you risk everything to come to Blaren House? I know how much of a toll it took to come. I’m a survivor of a war, my personal struggles nearly killed me. What made the difference for you, Mrs. Wilky? What drove you up those steps to Blaren House?”
“Christopher. The chance at getting the other part of that registry is for him.”
A smile came to the baron’s face. One that was unexpected. One that reached for a possibility that I couldn’t confirm. Chris was Adam’s by marriage. I wasn’t sure by blood.
