Page 32 of Kiss Me Lady One More Time
“Oh, yes.”
Sterne shot the earl a look.
“Travel far,” Whiddon began. Brow raised, he waited for Tensford to speak the next part.
“Plans change, Whiddon,” the earl said instead, burying his gaze in his glass of brandy.
“Not Sterne’s. Travel. Study. Publish. As far and as fast as he can.” Whiddon gave him a direct look.
“Come,” Sterne said to Miss Munroe, turning away from his damned interfering friend and nodding to the girl. “My gig is outside.” He shot Whiddon a dark look and led her out.
* * *
Hope sat quietlynext to Sterne as he drove through the wide Mayfair streets toward the park.
“You are unusually quiet, Miss Munroe. You are not worried about confronting Lady Tresham, are you?”
“No.” She was worried about Lord Whiddon’s strangely intense parting words. How could she not be, when they had felt like a warning, directed straight at her. Or worse, directly about her.
“You should not be,” he said with every evidence of reassurance.
But should she be concerned that Whiddon referenced something else, something she didn’t understand? Was there yet another obstacle between them, one she had no inkling of?
When she didn’t reply, Sterne nudged her with his knee. “You handled Simon beautifully.”
Was the flush of heat easing over her from the touch of their thighs? Or from his compliment? She didn’t care. She just enjoyed the sensation, as well as the bit of reassurance.
“I thank you, but I don’t believe I handled him. He’s not a puppy,” she said with a snort. “He’s a nice man. I just spoke to him.” Glancing up, she gave him a half smile. “And in any case, you were rather good with Mr. Simon, as well. I don’t think he would have given me that list of names.”
“He certainly would not have discussed his relationship with the lady, with me.”
“We make a good team,” she said softly.
He nodded and she let herself be comforted. The gig moved steadily on and she was thankful to feel some of the tension flow out of her. She imagined leaving a trail, like a line of chaff behind a grain wagon.
“You are good with people. Kind to most everyone.” He said it thoughtfully and she had the sudden notion that he was comparing her to someone, in his head.
“It’s not so difficult a skill,” she answered. “One has only to listen, and to pay attention, to really get to know someone. Although it can be nearly as important to listen to what they don’t say, as to what they do,” she mused. She caught the raised brow he directed at her. “What?”
He merely shrugged and urged the horses through the park gates.
“People are fascinating,” she insisted. “And surely you must think so, too.”
“Must I?”
“Why else would you make a study of their rituals?”
“True enough.” He gave a nod to the spectacle of Rotten Row that opened before them. “Although, more correctly, it is some of the behaviors that people exhibit, that fascinate me.”
She studied the scene. Bright gowns, bonnets and parasols staged beautifully against the background of green lawns and fully leafed trees. Ladies and gentlemen strolled and rode along the wide path. Gorgeous carriages and fine horseflesh were as flashy as the fashion. “I didn’t expect there would be so many people here.”
“This is nothing. In the spring, there is a veritable sea of thebeau mondeebbing and flowing here. There will scarcely be room to maneuver.”
She watched a trio of ladies, their heads together. A gentleman approached and they all bowed and curtsied and there was much hand waving and giggling. “This is a ritual, of sorts. Is it not?”
“It is, indeed.”
She saw a gentleman pull his mount alongside an open carriage. He gazed intently at the lady riding inside, before he reached for her hand, tossing his coat wide as he did it, to show his elaborately embroidered waistcoat, and kissed it. “A mating display? Like a peacock flaunting his plumage?”
