This time, she was the one who nodded despite the flutters in her stomach. She forced herself to look Winston in the eye and hoped her emotions would show. “I find you desirable as well.”
Surely that elevated her flirting despite his roguish experience.
The surprise in his expression was her reward. Then his gaze dropped to her lips. “Be still my heart. I do hope we can soon share another kiss.”
Millie tried not to read too much into his mention of his heart. That didn’t mean anything to a man like him. But it was a start.
Hope was a persistent, growing bubble inside her, buoying her. She would worry about falling later.
Chapter Eight
Hatchards was the oldestbookshop in London, and Millie could hardly believe Winston had suggested they meet there. To her knowledge, he didn’t share her or his sister’s love of books, so his idea to come together at one of her favorite places warmed her heart.
She had arrived early at the shop in Piccadilly to peruse the collection and took time to study the display in the window while her maid waited nearby. Glossy black paint on the door and gold lettering on the window lent an elegance to the place, but the books were what drew her eye.
Heaven knew she wouldn’t be able to look over the selection once Winston arrived. He was more than a distraction. Her mind seemed to stop working when he was near, although she liked to think she’d held her own at the ball the previous evening.
She’d discovered a side to herself she hadn’t guessed was there. Flirting had rarely been something she was tempted to partake in. The few times she’d tried to do so in the pasthad left her feeling inept and embarrassed. But with Winston,everythingwas different, including her.
Their dance had been far too short as far as she was concerned, and the remainder of the ball had felt like a long, drawn-out affair without him at her side. She’d known they couldn’t spend much time together, lest they risk drawing attention, but that hadn’t made it easier.
Watching over her cousin was challenging given the girl’s bold behavior, though Millie couldn’t deny wishing she had some of that same confidence.
Then again, she seemed to when she was with Winston.
She shook off thoughts of him to look more closely at the books displayed in the window, certain she had enough funds to indulge in one. She usually borrowed books from the lending library, but she adored having her own—ones she could reread at her leisure whenever the mood struck.
“Which one will it be?”
The masculine voice near her shoulder had her gasping in surprise as she turned to face Winston. “You’re early.”
“As are you. Something we have in common.”
She liked that more than she should. The quiet elegance of his dark brown wool suit with its short frock coat, matching waistcoat, and straight trousers had her sighing in appreciation.
“Why did you suggest we meet here?” she whispered, returning her focus to the display in the window in case anyone watched.
“Because I know you like books.”
Her heart melted at his words. Though it would be hard for him not to know that since she was in a book club with his sister, she still appreciated the gesture. Dare she hope it meant he often thought of her?
“Shall we go in and have a closer look?” he asked with the lift of his brow.
Why was it that even that small gesture—now achingly familiar—endeared him to her even more? That he asked rather than led her to the door also touched her.
“Certainly.” She hoped she didn’t sound as breathless as she felt. With a glance at her maid, Alice, who tried to hide her smile, Millie led the way toward the shop door, which Winston held for them both.
“Shall I wait here, miss?” Alice asked, eyes sparkling with excitement as she hesitated by the door. The maid was enjoying the secretiveness of Millie’s recent endeavors and encouraged her in every way possible, something Millie appreciated as she needed all the help she could get.
“Yes. Thank you, Alice.” Millie’s cheeks heated, but she ignored the feeling, feigning interest in the nearest book.
Winston didn’t seem to notice, thank goodness. “Farming? Are you interested in new techniques?” he asked as he tapped the book at which she’d been staring.
“Oh.” Her cheeks burned. “I didn’t realize what the subject matter was.”
“Hmm.” He lifted the slim tome and opened it. “Perhaps this is one I should read.”
“I suppose as marquess, you often study such things.”