Page 51 of The Sound of Seduction
He’d seen the staff arranging the dinner table hours ago when he’d descended the stairs, taking care to remain unnoticed. He knew the schedule well enough by now. Wendy, for all her selflessness and dedication, rarely remembered to tend to herself, especially on busy days like this. It had been that very thought that had spurred him to step outside in search of solace, only to stumble upon Wendy and Pippa in the garden.
Now, as he stood across from her in the soft glow of the drawing room, he narrowed his gaze, his thoughts swirling as he considered her. She had a way of deflecting concern so deftly, turning attention elsewhere with a bright smile and a charming remark. But the faint shadows under her eyes and the slight tension in her posture betrayed her.
She needed someone to look after her.
Wendy must have felt the magnitude of his scrutiny because she looked at him then—a searching look that made his chest tighten. She was expecting something from him. What, exactly, he could not say, but the vulnerability in her gaze stirred something deep within him, a longing to protect her from every discomfort the world might throw her way.
“It’s truly some ices I’d much prefer,” Wendy continued, tilting her head with a small, wistful smile that nearly made him forget his thoughts altogether.
“From Gunter’s?” he asked, raising a brow.
Her face lit up, and her eyes opened just a touch too wide. “Oh, the one, you know! Mandarin and rosewater,” she said, her voice a bit too eager. “Unless it’s closed this late.”
Stan’s lips quirked in the faintest of smiles. She was playing at innocence, though it was clear she was fishing for something—and perhaps not only the ices she claimed to crave.
Before he could respond, Pippa’s voice drifted from the hall. “Nick, are you coming?”
Nick, who had been standing nearby, shifted awkwardly, his retreat more of a stumble than a step. “Should I come and pick you up later, then?” He asked, his glance darted between Wendy and Stan, as if he’d stumbled into a scene he shouldn’t have witnessed.
Stan saw his opportunity and seized it with the calm confidence that came naturally to him. “No,” he spoke measured but firmly. “Allow me to thank her with some ices and then bring her home to your townhouse in my carriage.”
Wendy turned her head toward him quickly, her brows cinching together in surprise.
“That’s hardly proper,” Nick protested, his expression tightening. “You two shouldn’t be seen alone together.”
“I’m still a patient at Cloverdale until I’ve been officially dismissed,” Stan replied smoothly, his voice steady with reason. “This isn’t socializing. This is ensuring I remain safely under my nurse’s care.”
Wendy arched a brow at her brother and added, “Precisely. I’m his nurse, Nick. My priority is his wellbeing, nothing more.”
Nick hesitated, his frown softening at their reasoning but not entirely vanishing. Wendy drew her eyes wide and gave him a look that almost dared him to argue further.
“If you’re certain, Stan,” Nick said reluctantly, his voice nearly mumbling.
“I am,” Stan replied simply, his tone leaving no room for debate. His gaze flicked back to Wendy, catching a hint of softness in her eyes before she quickly turned away.
Stan shifted his focus entirely back to Wendy now, watching as her expression softened, her lips curving into the faintest shadow of a smile. She dipped her head once, a quiet acceptance that made his pulse quicken.
He could not say whether his offer stemmed from pure chivalry, concern that she hadn’t eaten properly, or some deeper, unspoken desire to extend their time together. Perhaps it was all these things; perhaps he did not care to question it too deeply. What he knew was this—he wasn’t ready to see her go just yet. Choices for which there were no words often felt the truest.
“I shall have the carriage prepared at once,” he said, the slight incline of his head wholly formal. But when Wendy lifted her gaze again to meet his, something far less composed stirred between them.
Nick excused himself kindly, heading toward Pippa and the others. As the hall quieted once more, Stan extended his arm toward Wendy—a simple gesture, yet one brimming with unspoken meaning.
“Shall we?” he asked, his tone steady yet touched with warmth.
Her fingertips drifted against his sleeve, feather-light. A pulse leapt in his wrist before he could still it. The space between them contracted, charged and breathless, as if the air itself dared not interrupt. Her eyes sparkled with a playful light that caught him unguarded, sending an unexpected ripple of giddiness through him, as if the room itself had grown warmer. She looked up, her gaze glinting with restrained mischief—or was it hope? “I suppose it would be improper to deny His Highness’s gracious offer,” she teased softly, though her quiet laugh masked something more tentative lurking beneath her words.
He smiled at that—not widely, not openly, but enough to sense the corners of his guard shift. Cracks of something newand unfamiliar edged into the quiet between them as they turned toward the door together.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The carriage lurcheddown the cobbled streets, the rhythmic clatter of hooves underscoring the quiet tension inside. Stan adjusted the collar of his greatcoat, the chill of the night of the night lingering even within the enclosed space. Across from him sat Wendy, wrapped in her pelisse, her cheeks flushed from the cold—or perhaps something else entirely.
Hopefully me.
She fidgeted in her lap before clasping her hands together, her excitement visible in every small action she made. The way her foot tapped lightly against the carriage floor, the unconscious tilt of her head as she glanced at him with wide, sparkling blue eyes—it all struck him like a bolt to the chest. He wanted to pull her into his arms, to feel her warmth against him, but the weight of knowing he was skirting propriety held him back.
“I can’t believe my brother truly allowed this,” she said, her voice low yet teeming with energy. A mischievous grin tugged at her lips as she sat straighter, her posture alive with confidence, as if the sheer improper nature of it had added to her daring. Her shoulders rose in an eager shrug that made his heart clench. That small, innocent motion undid him completely. She trusted him implicitly, unreservedly, and this trust filled him with guilt that gnawed at the edges of his control.
