Emily had chosen a midnight blue to wear over her gold-colored gown. She had been relieved to find that Lady Copeland was not annoyed with her but really very pleased indeed.
“I cannot think who it can be,” she had said, “but obviously you have a secret admirer, dear. We will hope that he will be eligible.”
“Mr. Harris?” Emily had suggested.
But Lady Copeland had frowned. “I think not, dear,” she had said.
But it had to be Mr. Harris. There was no one else. At least, she thought rather wistfully, no one else who would wish to make such a public statement of admiration for her. There had been someone eager to seduce her on one occasion, of course.
There was another reason why she did not mind being left to carry the shopping home. She had been presented with a rare afternoon to herself. She did not have to return home immediately. Even Jasper was not with her. He had gone riding with Lord Westbury. She turned her footsteps toward the abbey. It was her very favorite place in all of Bath.
It was as she was stepping out of the abbey an hour later that Roger ran almost headlong into her.
“Don’t tell me,” he said. “That is Miss Richmond behind all the bandboxes. And let me guess again. Every last one of them belongs to my aunt, and she has abandoned you to carry them up the hill to the Circus alone.”
She smiled, he was interested to note. “One of them is mine,” she said.
“Is it?” he said. “This one?” He took the largest bandbox from her and dangled it from one finger by its pink ribbon.
“No,” she said.
“This one, then.” He took the other bandbox from her and dangled it from his other hand.
“No,” she said, indicating one of the smaller parcels. “This one.”
He inserted one of his forefingers through the ribbon loops of both boxes and held them at his side. He offered his free arm to Emily. Why miss an opportunity that had been offered to him on a platter? Eugenia was still playing games with him, and undoubtedly would until the night of the ball. When he had taken her walking in Sydney Gardens earlier, two of the rest of her court had also arrived there, clearly by prearrangement.
When she had taken an arm of each of them, he had remembered another appointment and taken his leave of her, and she had looked at him with approval. He was not accustomed to being only one of several strings to a bow and had no intention of becoming accustomed to it.
Emily was flustered. He intended to escort her home? She would be alone with him for half an hour?
“We do not have Jasper here to play chaperon,” he said when he saw her hesitation. “But in the open street I believe you can feel safe, ma’am. I am unlikely to attack you in a public place.”
She flushed. He was laughing at her. She took his arm—and felt her breath quicken. What could she talk about?
“What shall we talk about?” he asked. “The weather?”
They talked about it for a few minutes.
“That exhausts that,” he said when silence fell between them. “What next? The beauty of Bath? It is lovely, is it not? Do you not admire it excessively?”
They talked about it for a few more minutes.
Roger was amused. She was so obviously uncomfortable to be in company with a rake, no one else with them to support part of the conversation. He might have felt the discomfort too, as he had a few evenings before outside the Upper Rooms. But there were daylight and sunshine today, and they were walking, not merely standing still awaiting the arrival of his aunt. And he was content to feel the pull of an attraction to her.
But he wished there were some way to get past that quiet, demure manner that she wore as a mask. He wished he could see her laughing and talking again, her eyes full of life and merriment, as they had been at the confectioner’s when they had had Jasper with them.
“Are you going to tell me what is in your parcel?” he asked. “Something frivolous, I hope. Or is it an unmentionable?”
Emily felt herself flushing at his final words. What if it had been? How embarrassed she would be. But being reminded of the parcel lifted her spirits. She smiled down at it.
“It’s a domino,” she said, “and a mask.”
“Ah,” he said, “then you are going to the ball, are you?”
“Yes,” she said.
He looked down at her. And quite unwittingly he had accomplished what he had been wanting to do. She was looking glowingly happy, breathtakingly lovely.
