Which begged the question:what was he trying to protect?
Mr. Wells began to rise, brushing a hand over the front of his waistcoat. “Very well. Shall I send word to Mr. Haverleigh that we are in agreement?”
“No,” Dominic said sharply.
Wells paused mid-motion, eyebrows raised in surprise. “No?”
“Not yet,” Dominic repeated, his voice firm as he, too, stood.
Mr. Wells gave him a blank look. “My lord, with all due respect, I doubt you will receive a more favorable offer. This is likely the best we can hope for under the current circumstances.”
Dominic stepped around the desk. “I’m not concerned with the offer.”
“Then what are you concerned with?” Wells asked, clearly baffled.
“That Mr. Haverleigh is too eager to make this go away. I do believe he is hiding something and I intend to find out what it is before we move forward,” Dominic replied. “Give me until tomorrow morning to decide on how to proceed.”
Mr. Wells adjusted his satchel and gave a respectful nod. “As you wish, my lord.”
After the solicitor had taken his leave, the door clicked shut behind him, leaving Dominic alone once more in the quiet study. He barely had time to collect his thoughts before Wright stepped inside.
“The carriage has been brought around to the front, my lord,” Wright informed him.
“Very good,” Dominic replied. “Has Lady Warwicke been informed?”
“She has, and she is presently waiting in the entry hall.”
Dominic moved towards the door. “Then I’d best not keep her waiting.”
As he stepped into the entry hall, he came to a full stop, his breath catching ever so slightly at the sight before him. Dorothea stood by the main doors and her pink gown hugged her figure with understated elegance. The top of her head was covered with a straw hat, but two red curls framed her face.
Good gads,he thought,does she become more beautiful each time I see her?
She met his gaze, but the frown tugging at her lips quickly dispelled the warmth that had filled his chest. He crossed the room in several strides.
“What’s wrong?”
She bit her lower lip. “Do you think this is wise?”
He tilted his head, unsure what she meant. “A carriage ride through Hyde Park?” His mouth quirked into a half-smile. “I daresay we’ve survived worse.”
She didn’t return the smile. Instead, her voice dropped. “I’m being serious. What if people stare at us? What if they whisper behind their fans and spread more rumors?”
He stepped closer, his tone softening. “Oh, they’ll stare. I have no doubt of that.”
A line between her brows appeared, clearly startled by his admission.
“How could they not,” he continued, eyes never leaving hers, “when you look so beautiful?”
A faint blush bloomed across her cheeks. “You are too kind.”
“I’m not being kind. I’m being truthful,” he said, his voice earnest now. “I will never tire of telling you how beautiful you are, Thea. You are—without question—the most beautiful woman I have ever known.”
Her eyes dropped to the floor, her voice a whisper. “But I have red hair.”
He reached out and captured one of the loose curls between his fingers. “And I happen to adore your red hair,” he responded. “As I doyou.”
She lifted her gaze slowly to meet his. “My mother had this same color hair.”
