“I did not expect you,” she told him, stiffly.
“And I thought we were meant to dine together,” he replied in a low rumble.
His comment took her aback, mainly because he almost sounded conciliatory. Of a certainty, he did not sound annoyed.
Without another word, he lit an oil lamp, which hung several feet from the telescope—by design, she assumed, so as not to interfere with the scope’s use. Afterward, steps unhurried, he moved in close to her. The dim backlighting revealed he palmed a snifter in one gloved hand.
“I suppose you wish to be alone to enjoy your drink and play with your apparatus?”
“My…er…It’s called a telescope. And…no.”
Her heart began to thump heard against her ribs. “No?”
A moment later, she gasped when he crooked his fingers under her chin guided her face upward.
She reached for her hood, but not quickly enough, and it fell back.
He leaned in close. Though she could not see his expression clearly, she understood what he was doing. Scrutinizing her.
Humiliation thrummed through her. No doubt her eyes, puffy and red-rimmed, told him exactly what she’d come up here to do. “I do not know what it is you think you are doing, sir,” she snapped. But she did, and she braced for whatever scathing comment came next.
None came. Instead, he dropped his hand and more gently than she could ever have anticipated, replaced her hood.
“It appeared you figured out how to work the telescope. Were you able to see anything up there?”
“Indeed. I hope—” she swallowed, risking her pride should he fire back—“you do not mind. I did not ask permission.”
“I do not mind, Annabelle. I’m impressed, actually. You managed the business in the dark. You’re quite clever.”
Suspicion lanced through her. He sounded sincere, but she’d been fooled before. Tonight, for instance. And Gaston was expert at setting her up for a fall, particularly when she’d displeased him.
“It was not so difficult,” she said carefully. “Last night, I noticed you adjusting the knobs before I…” Her words cut off in an instant.
Fool. Idiot. Bringing up the kiss she’d pressed on him. Perhapsthathad been his goal—and now, he could remind her not to attempt such a thing again.
“My grandfather taught me.” He leaned against the parapets, obsidian eyes locked on her. “He loved viewing the stars, taught me the constellations, how to chart them, when and where to spot them.”
She nodded slowly, afraid to speak for fear he’d remember he didn’t like her.
“Is it really true that overhearing that one conversation—one which centered more on your brother’s annoyance with me for not promoting him for membership at White’s—is how you worked out my location?”
“Of course.”
“Then, with nothing else to go on, you traveled across the country to an unknown land, braved robbers at gunpoint while managing an unfamiliar horse in blizzard conditions, and somehow mesmerized Babette into utter devotion to you without even trying.
“Not to mention bending me to your not insurmountable will.” His white teeth flashed, reflecting the moonlight.
Warmth unfurled inside her despite the wintry conditions. “I did nothing of the sort.”
“No? Did you not return to Stoneford as my guest? Did I not pay for your telegram?”
Telegrams, she silently corrected, and bit back a smile.
“You are not as I expected, Lady Annabelle.”
“What? Am I not a spoilt, pretentious debutante, Lord Randall?” she asked, quoting a few of the choice words he’d used to describe her when first they met. But her tone carried no heat, and he laughed softly.
“NoteverythingI expected,” he amended.
