Page 18 of Scars of a Passionate Revenge
She nodded. “We have had a very good trip, thank you.”
He glanced down the road. “Will you permit me to walk with you to your carriage, Miss Dunberry?” he asked.
She nodded and smiled. “I would like that very much, Mr. Fletcher.”
He took her arm and they walked along together, after she had finally consented to relinquish her package to her maid.
“Tell me, what kind of book did you purchase today?”
She looked at the ground and paused for a moment before answering. “I have bought a book about Plato today,” she replied.
“Indeed,” he said, his eyebrows flying up in surprise before he had time to try and control his response. He saw that his surprise had made her blush, and was sorry for it.
“I did not mean to embarrass you, Miss Dunberry,” he said softly. “Why does it make you feel uncomfortable to tell me about your book?”
She let out a small sigh. “It is not usual for young ladies to talk about such things, Sir,” she replied. “And I have been told many times that these are not ladylike subjects. I should be more interested in needlework, or dancing, it seems. That is what my stepmother always says, at any rate.”
Benedict shook his head. “What nonsense! These things should not be based on gender. Anyone should be able to learn about anything they want, don’t you think? Whoever they are, or wherever they come from.”
She looked up and him and smiled. “That is just what I think too, Sir. I am glad that we are of the same opinion.”
He returned her smile, looking into her blue eyes and trying hard not to get too drawn into their depths. “And tell me, what is your opinion on Plato?”
She paused for a moment, considering her response. “I think that what he has to say about creating harmony between the different parts of the soul is very interesting—reason, and the spirit, and the appetite. But I must confess that there is a lot that I do not understand, which is why I wanted to read this book.”
Benedict nodded. “I feel much the same,” he agreed. “There is so much to learn about everything in this world, is there not?”
Miss Dunberry laughed. “Well, I think Socrates would have agreed with you there! Knowledge is everything, is it not?”
They continued to walk along together and talk of books they had read, and it was not long before they reached her carriage.
Benedict felt a strange pang of regret once he realized that it was time for them to part. He turned to look at her, before the moment came when he would hand her into her carriage.
“Miss Dunberry, if you are not otherwise engaged tomorrow, would you like to join me for a walk? With the correct chaperone of course.”
***
Alice looked at Benedict and smiled. Although their conversation had not been a long one, she had felt that sense of familiarity in his company returning, just like she had felt when they chatted in the garden. Away from the formality of the ballroom, it was almost as if they were old friends, who had known each other for many years. Which of course they were, but that had to remain hidden for now.
She felt a flush of happiness as she accepted his invitation to go walking. “It would be a pleasure, Sir.”
He nodded, and they made their arrangements for the following day. “Until tomorrow, then, Miss Dunberry,” he said, and handed her into the carriage. Before he let go of her gloved hand, he pressed it against his lips for the briefest of seconds, holding her gaze for a moment, and she felt her body tingle all over with a sense of excitement as to what might be to come tomorrow.
Since the arrival of the flowers, she had felt a keen sense of anticipation that he would call on her, but each day had begun and ended without a visit from him, and she had been becoming more and more disheartened. She had begun to think that perhaps the flowers were just a politeness, a gesture to show that he had enjoyed dancing with her, but nothing more.
She had spent each morning at home, dressed in her prettiest dress, waiting for him to call, but he had not come, and she had to listen to Dorothea sniping at her, speculating as to all the reasons why he had not come, and all the things that she must have done wrong at the ball to put him off. It had been almost unbearable. And now, they were to go walking together tomorrow!
The carriage moved off and she resisted the urge to stare out of the window as they drove away from him. But really, he was the most handsome man she had ever met, and it was hard to tear her eyes away from him. And he had been dressed so finely too!
She was still not sure whether she should reveal to him their shared history. Perhaps it would be safe to reveal it when they were together. Or perhaps it was too risky. She trusted her maid, but someone else could overhear them and begin to gossip, and then there could be a scandal.
No, she promised herself that she would keep her own counsel and not admit to him that they had known each other for many years. She would endeavor to act normally, or as normally as she could when she was with a man whose company she found so exhilarating, and who looked at her in such a way as to make her heart pound in her chest.
They returned home in the carriage, and Alice headed straight for her room, pleased that she had managed to avoid her stepmother on her return. She assumed that Dorothea must be with the baron in his chamber.
She was still very concerned about her father, but Dorothea would not consent to a physician being called, as she insisted that there was nothing knew they could tell them, and that she was following the advice given at the last visit. So there was nothing further Alice could do, except hope and pray that her father got better soon.
She settled down at her bureau and took out her writing things, resolving to write a letter to her Aunt Felicity, who was now living most of the year in the north with her daughter and her growing brood of grandchildren, but at the present time was visiting her son in America.
