Augusta and I both gasped and hid ourselves. My heart slapped against my chest with such power I feared it would leap from my chest. I felt as caught as the night I had been discovered in the cupboard, pilfering bread from the kitchen. What would Lord Camden think of me now?
I did not have long to wonder. Not seconds later, the front door opened, and Lord Camden strode inside. He turned to find Augusta and me pressed against the wall, holding on to each other.
“Ladies?”
“Lord Camden,” I answered. It seemed his name was the only greeting I was capable of, and it came out like a squeak.
Lord Camden seemed to be battling between amusement and frustration. “Augusta, if you were hoping to greet Mr. Abramson before he left, you may walk him to his carriage.”
Augusta looked from me to her brother and nodded. She released me and stepped around the open door, letting herself out.
I reluctantly moved to follow. I was a step past Lord Camden when he grabbed my hand. “Oh, no you don’t.” He tugged me back, and although the pressure was gentle, I stumbled over my dress, and somehow ended up with my shoulder flush with his arm. “What are you up to, Miss Lewis?”
“I am never up to anything.” My words could not have been more condemning. If only I had managed a slightly convincing tone.
He lowered his chin to study me better, but the motion gave me the perfect view of his lips. “Let me guess. Augusta is scheming to secure Abramson’s affections, and you are helping her.”
I snorted. “That is not what we were doing. We did not even know he was going to be with you when we started spying.”
His brow rose. “So, you were spying on me?”
My eyes widened and I floundered. My lack of words was made worse by the fact that we were still holding hands. How was a woman supposed to think so near a man as Lord Camden?
The frustration seemed to leave him and only the amusement remained. “You might as well tell me. I’m not letting go until you do.”
His threat signaled the alarm bells inside me, and my gaze darted every which way, searching for his mother.
“She’s not here. She went to town right after breakfast. Something about securing the perfect bonnet for one of Augusta’s new dresses.”
“I see.” My shoulders relaxed and I breathed easier. I think I might have even smiled.
He chuckled but let his gaze travel out the door to where Augusta and Mr. Abramson stood speaking outside his carriage. “Would you be disappointed if I told you that I don’t think Abramson is right for Augusta?”
“Would it be a fair assessment or are you prejudiced?” I asked.
“Both,” he said, tightening his grip on my hand. “He spent the last half hour trying to convince me that he was smitten with her and that I was standing in the way of true love.” He shook his head. “What he feels for her is not love. Not real love, anyway.”
He looked at me, searching my eyes for what I did not know. “I want more for Augusta,” he said. “I want someone whose heart beats solely for her, whose every passion is for her and her alone.” His gaze seared mine. For a moment, I felt like I was glimpsing into his soul. I read the truth he was not saying: that when he fell in love, he would love someone with his entire being. There would be no competition for his heart becausehe would give it utterly and completely. Nothing else would be good enough.
“I hope she finds someone who loves her that way too,” I whispered.
I felt the tiniest stroke of his thumb against the back of my hand. The motion was enough to set my heart quaking. “So why were you spying on me?”
“Back to that again?” I scrunched my face before giving in. “Augusta has this absurd idea about the two of us.”
“Absurd?” He frowned. “Why is it so absurd?”
“Because . . .” I hesitated and shook my head. “You’re not being fair. Are you really going to make me tell you?”
His thumb stroked my hand again before he released me. “No, I suppose that would be ungentlemanly of me.” He stepped away from me before quietly adding, “But that does not mean I agree with you.”
The timely shutting of the carriage door saved me from responding. I couldn’t have if I tried, for his words had stunned me. I turned my head to see Mr. Abramson wave from his window and Augusta retrace the steps toward us. Neither of us said anything more until Augusta reached us.
“Mr. Abramson is nice, isn’t he?” Augusta asked us.
I did not know him enough to answer, so I looked at Lord Camden for him to share his opinion.
He glanced at me and then back to Augusta. “He is nice, but manners and conversation are not the only qualities you should consider.”
