“Come on, then,” he said gently. “Let’s go and find the coach. It’s warm inside.”
“Yes. Let us find the coach,” she agreed swiftly.
They walked along the path and this time, Nicholas found himself able to ignore the gossip-mongers. He walked with Miss Rowland to the coach and helped her up.
Then they were rolling back towards the townhouse.
As they rolled back, Nicholas watched the street—the newspaper sellers were there, and other men selling wares from handcarts. On the edge of the road was a flower-seller. He felt his heart thump. He had an idea.
Chapter 14
The morning sky showed an uncertain blue between the clouds where Bernadette stared up at the window. She looked down at her hands, resting on the keys.
Peace. Finally, peace and quiet,she thought contentedly.A morning’s rest...how restorative.
She grinned and shifted to a comfortable position on the padded piano stool.
The clock had just struck nine and Mama had gone out just five minutes earlier to join a friend on a morning outing in Bond Street. Papa was out as well, calling on his solicitor to discuss the yearly accounts. The house was entirely empty, except for the staff, and she felt able to enjoy herself and think her own uninterrupted thoughts.
As she gazed up at the sheets of music, she found herself lost in thoughts of Lord Blackburne once again. She felt a small smile tug the corner of her mouth and she grinned to herself. He’d been a real pleasure to talk to. They had conversed in ways they never had before, and she’d found herself truly feeling drawn to him.
She recalled him staring into her eyes and her throattightened, her blush burning her cheeks and flooding deliciously through her body.
But he can’t really feel that way. He can’t have meant it like...like that.She felt a frown crease her brow. Those stares, those soft words...they could not really mean he was interested in her. She was plain—she knew that and almost accepted it. She was uninteresting. Nobody would look at her like she was interesting and beautiful. Mama had said that so many times. She reached for her music, blinking savagely to try and stop her tears.
“Stop it,” she told herself harshly. “You’re just being foolish.”
It shouldn’t matter what Lord Blackburne thought of her. He and she had, neither of them, chosen this. What either of them felt was entirely irrelevant.
“My lady?” The voice of the butler interrupted her thoughts, making her whip round swiftly.
“Yes, Mr. Hadley?” she asked hurriedly. “What is it?” She drew a breath, trying to calm herself.
“Sorry that I startled you.” Mr. Hadley smiled gently. “But there is a coach outside. A gentleman is here to see you. He left his card.” He handed it to her.
“To seeme?” Bernadette frowned. “But...but he can’t, Mr. Hadley.” She felt her frown deepen. As a butler he understood that no gentleman could visit her at home, not with Mama and Papa both in town. The only person who might be admitted under those circumstances was Lord Blackburne—were she tobe suitably chaperoned—but they had not arranged to see one another. “Mr. Hadley, I can’t...” She paused.
She read the card.Nicholas Albert Cranmer Lovell, Viscount Blackburne.
Her heart stopped. She looked at Mr. Hadley. “Show him upstairs, please. And fetch my chaperone?” Her breath was swifter, heart thudding hastily.
“Of course, Miss Rowland.” He bowed, smiling, and hurried downstairs.
Bernadette took a deep breath, hands perspiring. It was one thing to see him in the park, or on some or other arranged outing. It was another thing entirely for him to arrive spontaneously at her home, and when her parents were not there to chaperone her. She waited while Mr. Hadley went to fetch Judy, breathing deeply and trying to calm herself.
Judy rushed in seconds later, a frown creasing her brow.
“Who might it be, Miss?” Judy asked, breathless with evident excitement. “Surely, nobody should call when your Mama and Papa are not here...?”
“It’s Viscount Blackburne,” she said softly.
“Oh. Oh! That’s different, then,” Judy said swiftly, expression shifting from puzzlement to surprise and then an attempt at composure as the footsteps drew closer.
Someone was in the hallway. She turned to Judy, about toask her if her hairstyle needed fixing, but before she could get the words out, Mr. Hadley reappeared in the doorway, Lord Blackburne with him. His blue eyes were bright with warmth and an inquiring look, and she dropped a low curtsey, heart thudding.
“My lord,” Bernadette stammered, but he held out a bouquet to her.
“These are some yellow ones.”
