Verity’s smile dropped. Her flushed cheeks lost their colour. “Oh, nothing. Don’t mind her. I guess she referred to the secret code I told you about. She’s such a tease.”
“She seemed to imply something more serious.”
A high-pitched laugh came out of Verity. “No, no. Anabelle opens her mouth and breathes. Don’t pay attention to what she says. I have to go now.” She went to leave.
“Verity.” Maddie took her sister’s trembling hand. “You know you can tell me anything, don’t you? Did Annabelle do something to you?”
“Don’t be silly. Oh, look at the time. I have to go.” She rushed out of the pantry and down the corridor, leaving Maddie concerned for her.
If Annabelle had hurt Verity, Maddie would burn her.
twenty-two
BEING CIVILISED WASN’T difficult. Hector had concluded that piece of wisdom after his second week of taming, as Quentin called his training. All that was required of him was to stay silent as much as possible when in the company of other civilised people. When he was alone with Maddie, he could be himself, but with others, he avoided talking, moving too much, or even frowning when someone said something he disagreed with. Wonderful.
Sitting at the table in Dr. Landon’s house, he sipped his tea and bit into an oatcake while the other guests talked about something he didn’t care about. Mrs. Debenham and Quentin were present as well, taking small sips of their tea.
“I’m glad to see you healthy and well-rested, Mr. Wentworth,” Dr. Landon said, straightening his glasses to give him a clinical gaze.
“Being stranded on a deserted island must have been such an ordeal for you.” Lord Naylor, former captain of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers, or maybe it was sixth, paused sipping his tea to focus on Hector with the same interest as a shooter aiming at his target.
Maddie gave Hector an encouraging nod. For a moment, her lips distracted him with the memory of the kiss they’d shared in the snow. Desire clawed its way out of his chest every time their gazes locked. Perhaps he was a savage indeed.
“It was.” He found it more difficult to navigate society than to live on an island, but he kept the comment to himself.
A happy squeal broke the moment as Albert, Lord Naylor’s son, ran around the room, laughing and putting in his mouth everything he found from a doily on a table to a pencil. Hector was reminded of himself on the island when he’d tried to understand what was edible and what wasn’t. He enjoyed watching the child be free and happy, and to hell with rules. At least children could still do that. His smile froze when a young lady sauntered inside. She was the young lady he’d rescued from Quentin’s unwanted attention.
“I apologise for my tardiness. I was busy…” She came to a grinding halt upon seeing him. Her lips parted in mute shock. She paled further when Quentin bowed his head to her.
If she worried he was going to blather about her misadventure, she was mistaken. Hector gave her the slightest shake of his head.
Lady Naylor waved the girl closer. “Don’t stand there, darling.”
The girl shuffled forwards, her gaze on the carpet. “Good afternoon.” She bobbed an unsteady curtsy.
“Everyone.” Lady Naylor pulled out a chair. “This is my daughter, Frances.”
A round of introductions and greetings followed, to which Hector paid little attention. Albert was a far more interesting subject. He was now looking inside an empty vase with a fascinated expression. Hector guessed Albert might become a scientist one day.
“Albert, darling, stop tasting everything. You’re too old for that.” Lady Naylor blocked her son from doing another round and putting a saucer in his mouth.
Judging by how Quentin scowled, he didn’t share Hector’s enthusiasm about children’s freedom. Instead, Maddie smiled. Every time she glanced his way and their gazes met, she’d blush. He wanted to kiss her again, feel her soft cheeks in his palms, and see how her skin tasted. He wanted her in his bed, sharing heat and secrets until they fell asleep.
Frances studied him from underneath her thick lashes. Her hand trembled when she picked up her cup of tea. At least Quentin behaved honourably, not mentioning his acquaintance with Frances. Although his behaviour was surely due to a sense of self-preservation rather than chivalry.
“Is it true you fought against savages who tried to kill you?” Mrs. Landon asked.
She resembled her husband in her appearance. They had the same rounded glasses, short nose, and constantly rosy cheeks.
“No.” He savoured another oatcake. Delicious with a bit of butter. It was perfect.
Maddie raised her eyebrows, encouraging him to say more.
He cleared his throat. Answers that were too short or direct were frowned upon. “Not savages, but hominids belonging to a species of primates I know nothing about. Some specimens were over four feet tall and broad. Fierce opponents.”
“It sounds frightening.” Mrs. Landon offered him a pastry with custard cream and strawberries on top.
His mouth watered as he picked one.
