Page 84 of Courting the Country Miss

She stared straight ahead. If she looked at him now, she’d lose control and yell or cry.

“What did I do?”

She clamped her mouth shut. So much for him knowing her so well.

“I promise you, whatever look you thought you saw, was not some tool in my seduction repertoire. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t have an arsenal of weapons to use on women. Even if I did, I’d never use it on you.”

She sighed. “I know—you use them on women you find attractive.” She removed her hand from underneath his. Why, then, had he used it on her?

“Is that what this is about?” He leaned over and peered at her face from under the brim of her bonnet. “Tish?”

She sighed again and looked at his face. Her smile probably came out sad. “’Tis of no consequence.”

“Don’t you know how attractive you are?”

“It doesn’t signify. Do forget I said anything about it.”

He took her hand in his and pulled it against his chest. She half expected him to start spouting outrageous sonnets or something, but his expression remained serious, despite the fondness in his eyes. “Leticia Wentworth. You are one of the prettiest ladies I have ever seen. Every man who sees you knows it. I didn’t refrain from flirting with you all these years because I found you unattractive; I never flirted with you because it felt wrong. I have known you all of my life—loved you as a friend all of my life.”

Which did make sense, curse him.

“I would never attempt to trifle with your heart or your sensibilities. Things have changed between us. We’ve survived many difficulties, you and I.” He enfolded her hand with both of his, still holding it against his chest. “Don’t you know how much you mean to me?”

His dear, familiar face filled her vision, eclipsing all else. He had loved her as a friend all of his life. Of course he did. Therein lay the blessing. And the curse.

Bittersweet, she smiled. “Forgive me for overreacting. I know we are good friends, you and I, and I know why you never flirted with me.”

His eyes narrowed as he studied her. “Do you? In truth?”

As they approached the house her aunt had let out for the Season, Leticia looked up at him. He sat so very near that she wouldn’t need to move much to kiss him. Just lift her head and…

She cleared her throat. “Thank you so much for the balloon ride. It was unforgettable.”

“It was for me, as well.” That lazy glint returned. “Do feel free to pretend we’re way up high any time.”

She let out a scoff and whacked his arm again.

“We can still view the Elgin’s Parthenon Sculptures if you wish. I’ve never seen them and would love to see them with you.”

He hadn’t taken other women there? Where did he take women he courted? Of course, now that she thought of it, he had never courted a lady before. She stopped that line of thought before she ground her teeth into powder.

“Thank you. I would like that, too.” Now why had she agreed to it? Spending more time in Tristan’s company was a pointless exercise. And quite possibly dangerous. Lord Bradbury would take her to see the famous marble sculptures if she asked him. However, viewing them with Tristan appealed in ways she couldn’t begin to explain.

He grinned. “Tomorrow?”

She nodded. “I am engaged for the evening, but I’m available all day.”

A slight pause, curiosity brightened his eyes and he opened his mouth to ask her something, but with a slight shake of his head said instead, “Until tomorrow then.”

If she were of an inclination to place wagers, she would have wagered that he wanted to ask her about her evening plans, and with whom. Since when did he refrain from expressing his thoughts?

For some reason, she needed him to know she would not see Lord Bradbury tomorrow night. “I’m attending a small dinner party hosted by Mrs. Goodfellow.”

His gaze slid her way. “Bradbury or Kensington invited?”

“Not to my knowledge.”

His posture relaxed. Puzzling. Why the sudden dislike of her spending time with the gentlemen he’d previously been so happy for her to meet? Again, flared a faint suspicion—hope?—that he was jealous. Ridiculous.