Now she knew for certain she had not been imagining things.
Her musings were cut short as Mr. Ashford once again spoke. “It could just as easily have turned sour. I could have ruined them, and they might never have recovered. Thank goodness it paid off.”
She tilted her head, considering him. How different he was from what she’d first thought. “You’re a good man.”
Once again embarrassment colored his cheeks. “Nonsense,” he said. But she did not fail to notice the faint smile on his lips as he turned his attention back to his plate.
The man on her right began to converse with her just then. But though she did her duty and gave her attention to him, she could not forget Mr. Ashford on her other side.
Nor did she fail to realize that, in her mind, he was no longer the glowering, acidic man who had taken Hillram’s place. No, he was something much more.
Chapter 11
No matter his thoughts on the Isle or the people who inhabited it, Peter could not deny that the main thoroughfare was a beautiful place with its wide avenue and quaint shops all flowing right to the beach and the unending sea.
If only he wasn’t distracted by thoughts of Miss Hartley.
Her arm linked with Mrs. Kitteridge’s, they moved close to a shop window, peering at the array of richly bound books within. She laughed quietly, bending her head close to her friend’s. Yet he did not fail to see the sideways glance she sent his way. Nor the way his heart pounded when their eyes met.
Just then Lady Tesh called to Mrs. Kitteridge. She moved away, leaving Miss Hartley by the window. Without thinking twice, Peter walked to her side.
“Miss Hartley.”
She looked up into his face and smiled. “Mr. Ashford. How are you enjoying your first shopping expedition in town?”
Much more than he ever thought he would. But it had nothing to do with the town and everything to do with her.
Rather than admit that, however, he said, “I must thank youfor last night. What you did for me was very kind.”
“It was my pleasure,” she said, her voice soft, her eyes glowing.
Overcome by that warm expression, he looked for Quincy. To his surprise, the rest of the party were already some way down the street. He offered his arm to Miss Hartley. Without hesitation, she tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and they started off.
The silence stretched between them. Each step made him more aware of the shifting of her grip, each gentle caress of salty sea air bringing with it her scent of summer berries. He cleared his throat, needing the distraction of conversation.
“I’m not easy around those I don’t know.”
“You make that sound like a failing, Mr. Ashford.”
“Isn’t it?”
“No.”
He gave her a dubious glance. “You’re used to society. Surely someone of my disposition wouldn’t fit in.”
“That’s true.”
Her admission hurt much more than he’d thought it would.
“But,” she continued, looking at him, her eyes serious, “that doesn’t mean you have a failing. One could also say that being cautious with whom you open up to is the more honest course, and therefore the more admirable quality.”
A glowing started up in his chest, an entirely foreign feeling that left him dazed. Before he could make sense of it, Lady Tesh spoke.
“Let us delay the trip to the tearoom for a short while,” she declared. “I’m in the mood for a new gown. What say you, Margery and Lenora, to indulging an old woman? We’re to attend a subscription ball come next Friday, and I would like nothing better than to deck you both out in something frivolous.”
Peter nearly groaned. Shopping for gowns with not one but three ladies? The pleasant interlude of the past minutes disappeared in an instant. Surely the younger women would jump at the chance. They would be here for hours.
Miss Hartley, however, never failed to surprise him, even in this.
