Page 13 of Her Sort of Scoundrel
“Ironically, neither did I.”
One dark brow arched at that, but Lionel wasnota topic she wished to discuss.
“I’ll invite your Miss Forbes for tea, but I will not shepherd her through the Season. Good grief, Dash, you wouldn’t want me to. I’m more likely to warn her off marriage forever.”
A soft smile was all the reply he offered. A little too meek and agreeable for Fiona’s taste, but she understood that he wanted to fulfill the young lady’s wish, and she’d helped him do that.
But then he reached for her hand, lifted it as he’d done dozens of times in the past. He turned her palm up and pressed a searing, too brief kiss there.
“Thank you,” he said.
When he headed back toward his conservatory moments later, Fiona stood watching for a long while after he was out of sight, her fingers curled against her palm.
Just like that, two years of ice between them had thawed.
Her heart felt a little lighter, that she could not deny.
But equally undeniable was a new hunger inside her—she could not wait for the next time she’d get to see him again. And as bold a lady as she was, that terrified her a bit.
CHAPTER4
Two days later,Dash headed downstairs, planning to travel to his club for a long overdue meeting with his friend, Lord Arthur Whitmore. The man was headed to the altar within a month’s time and seemed to be having misgivings, judging by the note he’d sent a week ago. Dash knew nothing about engagements or marriage, but he knew Whitmore and suspected a thorough conversation would likely help his friend sort out his doubts.
“Pryce is bringing the carriage around from the mews for you, my lord.” Buxton, his butler, approached with the reminder as Dash descended the bottom step.
“Very good. And Miss Forbes? Have you seen her?”
Buxton normally held his lined face in a neutral expression, giving nothing away, unperturbed by any request. But at the mention of Aurelia, his brows drew together in a worried frown.
“The young miss is having a bit of a troubling morning.”
“Why? What’s troubling her?” Anxiety quickened his heartbeat, but Dash willed himself to calm until he heard the rest.
Keeping that girl from harm was his entire purpose now.
“As I understand it, my lord, Miss Forbes has been invited to a social engagement and is rather nervous.”
Dash let out a relieved breath. Fiona must have extended the promised invitation, and nervousness on Aurelia’s part was understandable. She’d been raised in the countryside, and though she’d had a thorough governess who’d prepared her in all the rules of etiquette and propriety, she’d been in mourning for a year. There’d been few chances for socializing.
“Where is she?”
Buxton ducked his chin to indicate the hallway over Dash’s shoulder. When he looked back, he found Aurelia on the threshold of the drawing room.
“May I speak with you?” she asked in a timorous tone that was completely unlike the young woman he’d come to know.
“Of course.” Dash glanced back at his butler and Buxton nodded, seeming to understand that the carriage should wait until Dash had resolved this matter.
Dash followed her into the drawing room, pulling the door almost shut behind them.
Aurelia sat and spent a moment settling the skirt of her gown. It was only then that Dash realized she’d donned one of the new dresses they’d recently acquired from a modiste.
“Are you visiting Lady Fiona today?” Even saying her name caused his body to respond with a flicker of warmth in his chest. He’d intended to escort Aurelia to her visit—a chance to see Fiona again.
“Yes, but I’m not at all certain I’m ready.”
“Breathe,” he told her gently. “You’re ready, and I promise you that Fiona is no one to fear.”
Aurelia’s eyes widened. “Oh, I don’t fear her at all. I am honored that she invited me. I simply worry that I’m out of practice at conversing.”
