Page 20 of By Any Other Name

Rylla gaped at her. “Gregory? Shy?”

“He bolted yesterday as soon as Sir Andrew introduced us. Missed the entire lecture.”

“He was at a lecture? With Sir Andrew?”

“Yes. You can imagine my surprise.” Eleanor’s cheeks colored prettily. “Sir Andrew stayed for the talk.”

Rylla’s jaw dropped. “I would never have guessed that Sir Andrew had any interest in—well, in anything one might give a lecture on.”

“Oh, I don’t think he was interested in it.” Eleanor chuckled. “I suspect Andrew had trouble keeping his eyes open. Frankly, even I was a bit bored. But it was nice of him to stay to keep me company, don’t you think?”

“Yes, it was.” Rylla tilted her head a little, considering. “I am inclined to wonder if Sir Andrew has developed a tendre for you.”

“I would not think so.” Eleanor’s blush deepened. “I am sure he finds me terribly straitlaced. He is very undisciplined, so of course we should not suit.”

Rylla shrugged. “Unfortunately, it seems to me that what we should feel is not at all the same thing as what we do feel.”

♦ ♦ ♦

“Well, you certainly seem to have charmed my mother,” Rylla told Gregory as they set off down the street toward the small park. Andrew and Eleanor strolled a few feet ahead of them.

“I have a way with mothers. They are rarely as elusive as their daughters.” Rylla rolled her eyes in response, and Gregory grinned. “Though I was afraid she might balk at the idea of a stroll through the blizzard.”

Rylla laughed. “It’s not snowing that hard.”

“Fortunately, you look delightful with snowflakes on your lashes.”

“Flatterer. Well, I will not quibble. I am far too grateful to have escaped that drawing room.”

“I don’t know how you ladies bear it.”

“You seemed to manage well enough.”

“Yes, well . . .” He shrugged. “I wanted to see you.”

“Why? Do you have news about Daniel?”

“Not much,” Gregory admitted. “I wanted to see you because . . . I like looking at you. Talking to you.” He cut his eyes toward her. “But I find I much prefer being with you as we were last night.”

“With me wearing men’s clothes?”

He chuckled. “I don’t think it’s the clothes.” After a moment, he said more seriously, “It’s the freedom to actually be with you. I never realized before how bloody unsatisfying it is to talk to someone with four other ladies listening in.”

“It’s a dead bore,” Rylla agreed.

“I wish I could take your hand right now.” Rylla glanced up at him. Gregory was looking straight ahead, his jaw rigid. “I wish a lot more than that, truth be told. But it’s the very devil not even to be able to touch you or look at you or let my face show what I’m feeling. Society’s restrictions are”—he let out an explosive sigh—“a dead bore.”

Rylla tucked her hand in his arm. “I’m glad you came to call.”

“I plan to go out tonight to visit a few gambling dens that are known to prey on gullible young men.”

“Really?” Rylla began to frame her argument to go along on the adventure.

“Yes.” He slanted a look down at her, a faint smile on his lips. “Would you care to join me?”

Chapter Nine

Gregory crossed his arms and leaned against the stone wall, waiting for Rylla to emerge from the dark house across the street. He was on edge. On edge had, it seemed, become his permanent state.