* * * *
Summer hadn’t been particularly hot, but it had been quite rainy. A sunny day was unusual and brought most of London to the park.
Michael scrutinized every vehicle, afraid with all the additional carriages he might miss seeing hers. It was undignified, but he waited behind a grouping of trees anyway.
“Are you looking for me, or do you just enjoy watching the carriages, Michael?” Elinor asked.
He was so shocked he might have lost his mind. It couldn’t be her, but he turned and there she was a few feet away. He must have fallen from his horse, hit his head, and started dreaming.
Her pale green dress swayed in the breeze, and the sun behind her cast her in a gold glow. He held his breath, expecting her to disappear at any moment.
Thomas stood with Sophia and Dorothea Flammel. The trio pretended not to watch them.
Not a dream.
“Will you stand silent, then?” She fussed with the cord of her reticule.
“In all honesty, I thought you a vision, and if I moved, you might disappear.”
She blushed and trailed her hand along the bushes. “I am no dream, Michael.”
There was nothing more stunning than Elinor when embarrassed, except maybe her glorious anger. He rather liked her passionate as well. “What are you doing here? Where is your mother?”
Shifting her weight, she continued to torture the fabric of her little bag. “Mother is home. I came to see you.”
“Why?” He should just say something nice.
Huffing, she shook her head. “Honestly, I am not sure. I wanted to see you, to speak to you, but now that I am here, I have no idea what to say.”
“I see.” The awkwardness between them was his fault. He could blame no one else.
“I made a list,” she said.
At least one thing hadn’t changed about his sweet girl. “You and your lists, Elinor.”
She frowned, plucked a leaf, and crushed it in her gloved hand. “I know you think them silly, but they help me figure things out.”
“Not silly, adorable.” He stepped closer, her flowery scent bringing back a hundred memories of holding her close.
She dipped her head shyly.
“What was on the list?”
“Nothing, really. I listed all the reasons I should stay away from you, and all the reasons I should not.”
It was an odd place to have a rather personal conversation. Their friends stood several yards off, pretending to watch the ducks in the pond.
Michael stepped closer, and Elinor was inches away. If he reached out, he could touch her cheek, then push back the errant curl that tickled her neck. He longed to touch her, but held back. “What were the reasons why you would not wish to see me?”
Her gaze captured his. “I do not think I should tell you.”
It would be so easy to get lost in the depth of her blue eyes. “Why not?”
“You will be angry with me. I do not wish to make a scene here in the park,” she said.
“What if I were to promise not to lose my temper?” He loved the way tendrils of her hair escaped and flew in the breeze.
“Can you do that?” She tucked a wayward strand behind her ear.