Page 43

“Child’s play.” He considered her a moment. “Let me buy you a ticket to play nine-pin with me.”

“That is very kind of you, my lord. But would you survive?”

He let out a resigned breath. “I shall find a way.”

She smiled, and he wished he had come an hour earlier.

He thought of what Mother had said about the failed elopement—how Miss Prescott had been left at an inn by the man she thought she would be marrying.

It defied credulity that anyone could abandon the woman in front of him.

“Perhaps Wesley and Millie would care to join us,” she said.

“By all means, let us ask.” He did not particularly wish for their company, truth be told. He had nothing against Mr. Prescott or Miss Hollis except that being with them would force Miss Prescott to divide her attention, and evidently, Archie was fiendishly selfish when it came to her.

However, nine-pin with the four of them was more entertaining than he had expected. Watching Miss Prescott at the ring toss had been amusing; playing nine-pin beside her was enchanting, filled with so much laughter that his cheeks began to ache.

And all the while, within him were growing two distinct but parallel emotions: fear and something a great deal like love.

No doubt that was why Archie found himself wandering the house that evening, peeking into various rooms without actually entering. He had told Mother he was going to bed early, and yet here he was, roaming the corridors like a lost duckling.

When he reached the library, he paused in the doorway. The room, like all the main ones, had been decorated by Mother’s guests and was looking particularly inviting. Miss Prescott’s friend, Miss Hollis, sat in a chair with an open book, which meant, Archie hoped, that Miss Prescott might be found nearby.

He glanced around, but without opening the door wider, his view was too obstructed to confirm the hope. He stepped inside decisively, and Miss Hollis looked up.

“Good evening, Lord Dalmeer,” she said with a kind smile. It was followed by a glance to her right as Miss Prescott approached the free chair near her friend, a book in hand.

Miss Prescott slowed at the sight of Archie, her mouth stretching into a smile that resonated down to his feet.

“It looks as though we had the same idea,” he said, ignoring the fact that not once in the past six months had the idea to read in the library presented itself to him.

Miss Prescott’s smile turned amused, as if she knew this somehow. Her eyes flicked to her friend and back to Archie, as if to say You needn’t perform for her. She took a seat on the sofa and opened her book, though her gaze rose to Archie’s over its edges as he made his way to the shelves and pulled out the first book he touched.

He took it back with him, debating for a moment over which seat to choose. The vacant spot next to Miss Prescott called to him, but he chose the chair across from her instead.

Mr. Tomlinson would marvel if he knew the might of Archie’s chivalry.

He opened his book, but his eyes were far more interested in reading Miss Prescott’s expression than the text before him. Her peaceful presence was at odds with the liveliness she had shown in the village—her wine consumption in particular.

Miss Prescott’s gaze lifted, catching his, and she smiled slightly with a quick glance at Miss Hollis, who was immersed in her reading.

Three more times Miss Prescott caught Archie looking at her, and twice he found her looking at him. Those two times were little victories even Nelson would have appreciated.

Miss Prescott’s peaceful pose grew more restless as the minutes passed, and finally, she rose.

Was she leaving already?

Miss Hollis looked up as though with the same question.

“I am not enjoying this book,” Miss Prescott explained. “I think I shall look for another.”

“Heaven knows there are enough to choose from,” Miss Hollis said with a smile. “I have not even ventured upstairs.” Her eyes returned to the page.

Miss Prescott made her way to the shelves, her fingers running along the spines and her head tilting as she read certain titles. Eventually, she reached the stairs that led to the second level of the library, where a path wrapped around three of the four walls, enclosed by a railing.

She lifted her skirts and took the stairs up.

Archie’s restlessness soon eclipsed hers. He was not enjoying his book, either. Perhaps he should choose another, as well. Miss Prescott seemed to have found a selection more to her liking.