Page 62 of Snapdragons
She was interrupting. Again. And she hadn’t even given a moment’s thought to the possibility. Again.
“Forgive me. I shouldn’t have interrupted you.” She turned to go, horrified at her own lack of thoughtfulness.
But his voice stopped her. “Please don’t leave, Penelope.”
Penelope.Hearing him use her given name brought an unexpected burn of tears behind her eyes. Not scandalized or sad tears, but the sort that, if allowed to fall, would bring relief. Unfortunately, they would also bring a wave of embarrassment.
She didn’t turn back, desperate to get herself under control once more, but she also didn’t leave.
Behind her, she heard the scrape of chair legs on the wood floor. His steps were quiet. In the length of a breath, he had moved to where she stood, stepping around to face her.
“Please don’t leave,” he repeated softly.
She swallowed down the lingering emotion and smiled. “I brought you something.” She held up the sprig of tiny flowers.
His brows shot upward. “Snapdragons.”
“They are growing in the conservatory. They are your favorite,so I asked the gardener if I could have a sprig.”
“You remembered.”
“The first time in ages I didn’t win a horse race? Of course I remembered.”
“You also didn’t lose,” he said, “so I’m not owed a forfeit.” He didn’t laugh or really smile, but she’d come to know him well enough to realize he was enjoying himself.
“It’s not a forfeit.” She twirled the sprig of snapdragons. “I thought it would make a lovely buttonhole flower.”
He looked down at his frock coat, then back up at her. “I think you’re right.”
She held it up, pointing with the sprig toward his lapel. “May I?”
She was all but certain she heard him swallow even as he nodded.
She slipped her fingers around the top edge of his coat and carefully threaded the stem through the buttonhole. Heavens, why were her fingers shaking? With great care, she pinned it in place.
“There are several varieties of snapdragon in the conservatory.” She ran a fingertip over the topmost bloom. “I daresay you could find a different color to complement every frock coat you have.”
She raised her eyes once more to find him looking not at the deep-purple blossoms but at her. His gaze was both soft and intense. Her heart raced but in a rhythm of eager anticipation. Dared she trust that? Dared she trust herself?
“Why do you like snapdragons so much?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
His sea-blue eyes didn’t leave hers. “The blossoms are so tiny.” He didn’t speak any louder than she had. “If one doesn’t look closely, each flower blends in with every other, and there seems nothing remarkable about any of them. But they are beautifuland unique. One need only be willing to make the effort to truly see it.”
Penelope’s heart swelled as he spoke. Her arms ached to wrap around him and lean into the quiet, unobtrusive strength of him, to tell him thathewas worth the effort to truly see. It was not an impulse she had felt for any gentleman before.
“I should allow you to return to the letter you were working on.” She tried to sound as though the ground beneath her were steady, no matter that it had felt less and less so all morning.
“I wouldn’t object if I were entirely prevented from finishing it.” He shook his head, seemingly at himself. “I am attempting to pen a response to the letter I received from my grandfather. Thus far, it is proving a very daunting task.”
“Family can be a difficult thing,” she said with a sigh.
Niles took her hand. That simple touch soothed her battered soul. “Yes, indeed.”
“My brother left this morning.” Again, a lump of emotion formed in her throat.
“I thought he was leaving tomorrow.” That he appeared surprised was some reassurance that she hadn’t entirely misunderstood Liam’s plans.
“So did I.”
