“That is a great deal to read from a walk,” she swallowed, feeling the nervousness balloon inside of her. How was he able to read her so accurately?
“You can say that I have a talent for translation,” he said. “Now, turn.”
She turned. He was close again, but he did not touch her.
“Enough for tonight,” he said at last, a little roughly, as if dismissing a willing hound. “You will go to bed and you will sleep. In the morning, you will be kind to Mr. Morton.”
“I can be kind without your permission,” she muttered.
“Prove it,” he said. “You will wear blue, and you will choose three questions and one truth. You will not check the door for escape routes more than once per minute.”
“Perhaps you are regulating me a tad too much now,” her mouth betrayed her by wanting to smile. “Don’t you think?”
“It is the foundation of charm.” He stepped around her to fetch his coat and shrugged into it. “Do not think too badly of me when I am correct.”
“I will try, but I cannot promise.”
He came back to the table for his gloves.
“One more instruction.”
She waited for him to go on, biting down on her lip.
“When you are done speaking with a man you do not desire, do not apologize for ending the conversation. Say, ‘Mr. So-and-so, you have been very kind to lend me your time. Will you forgive me for stealing it again some other day?’ Then take your leave before he answers.”
“That is manipulative,” she sighed. “I do not wish to be so. I have learned my lesson once.”
“I would not call it manipulative. Rather, it gives him dignity to take away,” he said. “Men carry so little of it gracefully. We must pack them a bit for the journey.”
“You speak as if you like them,” she challenged.
“I like many of them very much,” he said. “I am trying not to like any of them for you.”
She did not know where to put that, so she simply compartmentalized it for the moment. There was still so much that she was still learning about Stephen. He seemed to have a real knack for surprising her at every turn.
“Midnight again tomorrow?” she asked.
He opened the door for her, but did not step aside yet.
“Yes. If you do well, the lesson will be shorter.”
“What if I wish it longer?”
“Then you are learning,” he said. “That is a positive, in my opinion.”
They stood like that for a moment. He lifted a hand as if to check the curl he had freed.
“Good night, Miss Havenford.”
“Good night, Your Grace.”
She slipped into the corridor and drew the door to. For a long moment, she stood there with her palm resting against the panel, as if the wood itself might offer steadiness. Her heart was reckless and loud. She did not scold it.
Blue tomorrow, she thought, and found that the idea did, in fact, make her brave.
CHAPTER 6
Maria had done as she was told.