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‘Ah, I had wondered if you were going to grace us with your presence, Mrs Wilkinson, before I managed to wear out my welcome.’
‘Sir Christopher.’ Hattie hoped any high colour would be attributed to her walk, rather than his nearness. Mrs Reynaud had put ideas in her head about flirtations. Not precisely true. Her sleep had been filled with dreams of them dancing where Sir Christopher spun her round and round as Charles stood in the shadows.
‘Is the miscreant dog yours?’ he asked. ‘I caught her attempting to dig a hole in the borders. She is hardly bigger than a cat.’
‘Yes, Moth is mine. She is a papillon.’
‘A trained killer, rather than a butterfly.’ Sir Christopher bent down and tickled Moth under the chin. Moth lifted her chin a notch higher before rolling over and exposing her belly. Moth gave a little whimper of pleasure as Sir Christopher obligingly stroked her belly.
Hattie belatedly realised she was staring and turned towards a stand of deep-blue delphiniums. ‘An unexpected pleasure.’
‘My godson was anxious to call on Miss Parteger, but my true purpose involves you.’
‘Me?’
‘The return of your gloves.’
Hattie winced. The gloves. How had she forgotten he had retained them until the blasted forfeit was over? ‘Where are they?’
‘Your sister has taken possession. She expressed surprise that you were so careless with her birthday gift.’
‘It was good of you to return them.’ Hattie kept her gaze carefully on the gravel path, rather than meeting his intense grey eyes. ‘I’m sure my sister will hand them to me. She is very trustworthy in that regard.’
‘I assumed they were precious to you. You were very concerned when you mislaid them earlier in the evening.’
‘That had a different purpose, as you rapidly guessed.’
‘I know, but you neglected to finish your forfeit and collect your gloves. What does this say about you?’
Hattie winced, knowing she’d been the one to make the mistake and leave the dance floor so abruptly. She’d been foolish to give in to her anger and to forget that he held the gloves hostage last evening. It wasn’t his fault that she’d once believed a night’s romance at a ball would last for ever. All Sir Christopher had required was light conversation during the dance and a polite goodbye, something seven years ago she’d have done without considering the consequences. Instead she had behaved like the worst maiden aunt, storming off as if he had attempted to make love to her on the dance floor. ‘The dance was over.’
‘We shall have to examine another forfeit for leaving me bereft on the dance floor.’
‘Have you spoken with your godson about his behaviour?’ she said more tartly than she intended as she tried to banish the sudden image of Sir Christopher kissing her. She would not be agreeing to any sort of renewed forfeit.
‘Rupert now understands the necessity of behaving properly if he desires to further his acquaintance with your niece. Your niece is very adept at the use of her fan. He had considered that she was older.’
A cold shiver went down Hattie’s spine. She could just imagine. She knew all about Livvy’s fascination with fan language for flirtation purposes. She’d warned Stephanie about it weeks ago. Obviously nothing had been done. The problem was how to discuss Livvy’s use of the fan without revealing where she had been. ‘Livvy is impetuous, but innocent. It was a game to her, to see if she could. Nothing more.’
His shadowy grey eyes locked on to hers. ‘And was it a game for you, bursting in on them? Attempting to find evidence of a flirtatious game gone too far? Or is any flirtation too far for you?’
‘My niece’s reputation is paramount.’ Hattie hugged her arms about her waist and tried to control the shiver. ‘And anyway, why are you wandering about the grounds on your own?’
‘Your sister is playing the chaperon while I attempt to find the cedar of Lebanon. As Rupert has decided he wants to do more than play infantile fan games with your niece, he needs to make a favourable impression on your sister.’
‘Have you found the tree?’ she asked brightly.
‘I was on my way when your dog discovered me.’ He checked his fob watch. ‘A quarter of an hour to make a good impression is all Rupert requires.’
‘You need to find the tree before your time is up. Truth in all things.’
‘We reach complete understanding at last, Mrs Wilkinson.’ A smile tugged at his features. ‘It is part of my creed.’
