Page 6 of The Misfortunate Miss Farthington
“Yes, something tells me Luke and Lydia will be all too keen to drag us into another adventure if we wished it,” he said.
“Anddoyou?” She tilted her head to the side to meet his gaze as they came to a stop beside the seats he’d saved for them. “Do you wish for adventures, Mr. Grant?”
A cascade of inappropriate answers rushed to the surface.
I’d give anything for another adventure with you.
Loving you for a lifetime would be adventure enough for me.
He pushed aside all the mawkish responses and answered as honestly as he was able. “I must confess, it has never been intrigue that gets me out of bed in the mornings. Though, if it were with you, I would be there in a heartbeat.”
Her smile grew as her cheeks flushed pink once more. “That’s a lovely sentiment, but I am in agreement. It’s not spying and mysteries that make my heart race.”
Then whatdoesmake your heart race? What makes your days brighter and your world spin?He wished to ask but their hostess was already calling attention to the front of the room, and any minute now he’d be expected to lecture the room at large on the findings of the late Antoine Lavoisier, the great French chemist.
As if reading his thoughts, he heard the duchess say his name, and that was followed by polite applause and more than a few stares in his direction.
“Will I see you after?” he asked.
Hopelessness filled him because he’d been to enough of these to know that after his lectures, it was a madhouse. A cacophony of questions and conversations and too many people vying for his attention.
Most of the time he enjoyed that. But today all he wanted was more moments of private conversations.
Truly, he wanted much more than that. He wanted the chance to woo her. To converse with her at length. To make her laugh, and hear her thoughts, and—
“I’m afraid we must be getting back as soon as it’s over,” Miss Farthington said softly.
Did she feel this pain like he did?
Frustration left him temporarily speechless. He wasn’t good enough for the likes of her. As the third son of a baron, he’d never have a title and any wealth he had was of his own making.
He’d never cared much before about his lack of status or fortune. But he’d never felt the loss of it so keenly as he did right now.
Miss Farthington held his gaze evenly, like she too didn’t want this moment to end, but had no notion how to prolong it.
Then, all at once, her cousin leaned forward, sticking her head between them with a wide grin. “I hope it’s not too forward of me, but my aunt would never forgive me if I did not take this chance to invite you to their home for dinner tomorrow night.”
He arched his brows in surprise, and did not miss the way Miss Farthington’s eyes widened in alarm.
“Are you, uh…are you certain?” he hedged.
Her cousin nodded eagerly. “Indeed. My aunt and my uncle are great admirers of men of science such as yourself.”
He turned to Miss Farthington and, while she still seemed surprised, she smiled and nodded as well. “We would be honored to have you with us.”
That was all he needed to hear. “Then I would be delighted to attend.”
Her smile washed away any frustration and worries that lingered like a spring breeze gusting through him and making the world new and sweet.
“Wonderful,” she breathed.
“Wonderful,” he echoed like a ninny.
“Er, Mr. Grant?” the duchess called.
With one last smile shared with the woman he adored, he finally tore himself away and strode toward the front of the room.
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