When she trailed off, he realized he was holding his breath, andthatcaused him to scowl again. Why should it matter to him what she thought of him?
And why would the thought of being unable to kiss her make him so angry?
“Where are we going anyhow?” he blurted, trying to distract himself, as much as her.
She took a deep breath and held it for a long moment, then straightened her shoulders and glanced at him again, before turning her attention out the window. “The Curios Cabinetin York. It was an old, rundown antiquities shop near my great-aunt’s home. When we visited, Bonnie and I used to like to chatwith the proprietor—he was a jolly old man with bad eyesight. Bonnie would scour the book selection for something new, and I would read to him.”
“Ye’d read to the proprietor?” Lysander’s brows had raised.
“He said the words were all blurry for him, and I did not mind. I remember there being something important in the back room, and I am hoping it is still there.”
“Do ye ken what it is?”
“I do.” Blue eyes flashed once in his direction; a little dip visible between her brows.
“And do ye ken how mysterious that sounds that ye willnae tell me what it is we’re looking for?”
A smile seemed to tug almost reluctantly at the corners of her lips. “Probably.”
“Probably ye will tell me?”
“Probably I know how mysterious that sounds,” she clarified teasingly.
He rolled his eyes, which was damn uncomfortable under the stupid eyepatch. Grumbling, he crossed his arms over his chest and tried to resist the urge to scratch underneath the patch. “Well, we still have hours to go before we reach York, so if ye’re no’ going to tell me what it is we’re looking for, how about telling me about yer great-aunt?”
That conversation led to questions about her family and her life at The Oliphant Inn. He was impressed she didn’t say anything outright negative about her mother, but he could hear the subtext in her stories. Actually, the more she spoke about hermother, the more he realized the baroness was responsible for Tiffany’s inflated opinion of her worth because of her beauty.
But even though she knew she was beautiful and believed—thanks to her mother—that fact made her more important than others, she didn’t seem to believe people werelessworthy because they were ugly or malformed. Her response to him and his eyepatch had proven that.
So can I stop wearing the damn thing?
Nay, because if he did, she’d realize his deception. As it was, there were a few times during the afternoon, sitting close enough their shoulders occasionally touched—that he wondered if she’d guessed his identity. There were times when she’d look at him strangely, or when she’d brush her fingers against his sleeve, or when she’d laugh enchantingly…and he wondered if she knew who he was and was trying to charm him again.
But she said nothing to indicate she knew, and he had to assume this was just her normal personality. And he wasn’t sure how he felt about that.
In fact, he wasn’t sure how he felt about herin general. The woman he’d gotten to know over the last few days was pleasant and sweet and cared about others. She wasn’t afraid to tell him what she thought, or to take control, or to stand up for herself or others.
She was a woman he’d enjoyed being with and talking to, and he didn’t feel as if he had to watch his words. Although he hadn’t told her any personal information, he’d made her laugh more than a few times by teasing her about kisses and frogs and warts.
And helikedher.
But every time he felt himself relax around her, the voice in the back of his mind would remind him of the things she’d said about Lyon, and he’d get that sour feeling in his stomach, which had nothing to do with theotherways his body was responding to her.
They reached York late in the afternoon, and she yawned, then apologized as he scooped up her carpetbag and offered his arm. She took it wearily and didn’t even comment on the fact he’d remembered to limp.
But when he turned them toward the hotels, she tightened her hold on his arm. “Could we—I mean,The Curios Cabinetis only a few blocks in that direction. Would you mind terribly if I popped in to see if the items I remember are still available?”
Lysander frowned. They were both tired from their day of travel, and it would make more sense to order a bath and prepare for dinner. But she was looking so hopeful, and he had to admit that he could admire her determination.
“I’m no’ letting ye go gallivanting around York by yerself,” he growled, and when she suddenly beamed at him, realized he’d fallen into her trap, and sighed. “Fine, we’ll go gallivanting around York together. But first we’re dropping the bags off at a hotel.”
“Yes, milord.” She inclined her head dutifully. “Your wish is my command, milord. Lead the way, milord.”
He snorted and turned them toward the Ritz, but she tugged at his arm and pointed to a much more modest hotel nearby. “This will be fine for just the two nights.”
Frowning, he allowed her to pull him in that direction. “Ye dinnae want to stay at the Ritz?”
“I cannot afford two rooms at the Ritz, Lunzie. I can afford two rooms here.”
