“Let us prove, then, if only to ourselves, that we can be civilized.”
Civilized.As civilized as two people in the privacy of a yew maze, huddling together in the fading light of a summer’s day, as if they had just found one another after a long and desperate search.
That evening, he’d used every ounce of his self-control to push her away when all he’d wanted to do clasp her ever closer. Giving in to this…thisinfernowhen she hated him so, could only lead to pain.
Another maid, presumably not the one standing guard just out of view, brought in a tray with a steaming pot and two cups.
“The duchess keeps the key to the tea cabinet, Miss,” the maid explained. “As she is out, the best we could do is chocolate.”
“Chocolate would be most welcome,” Millicent replied graciously. “As I’m sure Lord Neville agrees.”
He nodded, oddly struck by the novelty of her answering for him.
In a blessed instant, Miss Millicent became, not a miss at all, especially not one who held him in contempt. Instead, she was as he’d once dreamt—both his wife and his friend. Together, they became a lord and his lady, enjoying a natural, delightful, and comfortingly domestic exchange.
Millicent busied herself filling the cups. As he stared at her active hands, the strange sensation persisted, leaving him even more disoriented and confused.
As she handed him a cup and saucer, words bubbled out of her in a way he hardly recognized. Their meaning, he did not comprehend. But fleetingly, he recognized the young lady from their first encounter. Proper. Demure. Taking pleasant note of “the sun” which, apparently, she found “quite cheerful, despite the seasonable cold.”
He had a sudden insight…her politeness on their first meeting had been armor. She’d beennervous, not purposely deceitfully demure. What else about her had he gotten wrong?
“February,” he said, realizing there’d been a pause in her description of the weather.
“Yes,” she agreed with a slight frown. “Thatisthe month.”
Warily, she held his gaze as they both took sips from their cups.
Asquith would have a good, hearty laugh if he could see Neville now.
That is, of course, if the situation didn’t call for Asquith’s unequivocal censure. But, had the pretty young lady across from him had not been Asquith’s ward, his friend would have been highly diverted by any situation that trapped Neville into the use of dainty saucers, extensive weather observations, and other feminine pleasantries.
Neville felt as if his oversized body were at odds with the whole scene.
But then again, could he not use the opportunity to drop a subtle hint about Willard? She hadn’t heeded him last time, but his warning had been indirectly given.
“Miss Millicent—”
By her face, he knew he must have interrupted her mid-sentence.Ah, well.His accidental rudeness could not be helped.
“—if you would permit me to speak on a delicate subject—”
“Delicate?” she squeaked.
“Although, in the past, you’ve made it clear that you do not value my opinion—”
“Have I?” she interrupted again.
He grimaced. “Yes.”
She narrowed her eyes. “A thing’s value, including an opinion, generally lies in that thing’s scarcity.”
“Well, yes, of course.”
“Is it so surprising, then, that I might find it difficult to value something so freely and indiscriminately given as your opinion? Especially when given on matters of concern only to me?”
He swallowed.Hard.“In this case, the concern is not only to you. Our families, not to mention our friends, are so closely connected, is there anything that could be of concern to you and not to me?”
The delicate arch of her right brow suggested her answer was an obviousyes.