“It was uneventful,” he managed to respond and immediately chastised himself for being so prosaic, which led to a beat of awkward silence. “How was your journey?”
If Thea experienced any of the same tongue-tiedness, she hid it well. She walked over to an upholstered divan and laid the flowers on a side table. “It was very good, my lord, thank you for asking.” She began untying the ribbons of the bonnet. “Lady Palmer and I traveled together. Our journey was uneventful as well.”
“That’s good,” Neal murmured, wondering why he couldn’t kick his brain into operation and knowing it was from wanting Thea.
He had to let it go. She wasn’t for him. She could steal his heart.
For the first time, he realized his father might not have had any control once he’d met Cass Sweetling. Neal knew he must be stronger.
He smiled at Lady Palmer. Her arched look let him know she didn’t miss a thing. If Thea hadn’t noticed his halting behavior, she had.
Neal realized he’d best retreat now. There was something potent about being in the country with Thea that stirred all sorts of emotions and desires within him.
For her part, Thea seemed oblivious to him. She was rearranging the flowers, and he sensed he’d already been dismissed.
His intent to put distance between them went by the wayside as he asked, “Where are your sons?”
Thea looked up from the flowers. “They stayed in town at Lady Palmer’s house with her housekeeper, Mrs. Clemmons. I thought it best they not be here. They will be sorry to have missed you. Oh, yes, and thank you for the books you sent over. They are a special treat and a welcome addition to our small library. I should have said something earlier.”
“You wrote a note,” Neal said.
She smiled.
He smiled.
“I should put these in water,” Thea said. “Mirabel, do you want me to use the vase in the butler’s pantry?”
“That would be excellent, dear. Thank you.”
“If you will excuse me, my lord?” Thea said.
Neal nodded and smiled again. Thea left the room, and all he could do was watch her leave in silence. He didn’t know what had come over him. It had to be seeing her in the country, seeing her here, in the atmosphere where there had once been a close bond.
Mirabel said, a touch of sympathy in her tone, “Let me show you to your room, my lord.”
He followed her out into the black-and-white-tiled hall and up the stairs. Mirabel maintained a light, running commentary. “This portrait was of my late husband in his youth,” she said, pointing out a painting at the top of the stairs depicting a handsome young man dressed as St. George slaying a dragon. “I always found it a bit much, but Palmer liked it.”
“It’s very nice,” Neal commented, his thoughts still on how diffident Thea had been to him. It was only then he realized he had been looking forward to seeing her. He’d actually wanted to deliver thebooks to her sons himself, but he had backed off.
She kept talking. He chided himself for his cowardice over the delivery of the books—
“You poor man,” Mirabel said. She’d stopped at the intersection of two narrow hallways.
“Yes, nice,” Neal muttered, until her words registered with him and he realized she was no longer giving him a tour. “What do you mean?” he demanded.
She looked around as if fearing they could be overheard. “Do you really believe you can continue playing this game of you not noticing her and she not noticing you?”
He didn’t pretend to misunderstand her. “We are friends from long ago. Nothing more.”
“And yet the air fairly crackles between you with attraction.”
“It does not,” he replied, uncomfortable with her accusation.
“Oh, not in the way young people would throw caution to the wind and all but attack each other,” Mirabel said. “But you two are very aware of each other.”
He hadn’t noticed any interest from Thea at all.
“Tell me, Lyon, have you thought of adding our friend Thea’s name to your list of possible wives?”
