Page 12 of Yielding to Love

She said, “I want to thank you—” at the same time he said, “I had a good visit with your brother.” Then they both stopped and waited for the other to speak. He broke the silence by raising one eyebrow and asking, “Thank me?”

“For calling on Neville. It was generous of you to make the time. Especially with your sister’s wedding tomorrow.”

The eyebrow rose improbably higher. “Did I say the wedding is tomorrow?”

Bollocks. He hadn’t. Marianne had. Camellia’s whole face and neck grew hot. “No. No, I’m sorry. I should not listen to gossip—but nothing censorious was said.”

His expression turned grim. Naturally. It must be irksome to have people tittle-tattling about one’s family.

She tried pressing on. “I think Neville is bored most of the time. I’ve run out of ways to entertain him.” She heard her own words and winced. “Oh, dear God,” she muttered. “I don’t mean that I’ve been gossiping about your family to entertain Neville.”

He snickered. Good. Amusement was preferable to anger. The whole predicament was so ridiculous she had to bite her lip to keep from laughing as well. “I suppose I should have stopped at ‘thank you for calling on Neville.’”

He flicked his hand as if to dispense with her apology and her gratitude. “It was my pleasure. We had a fine conversation out on the terrace, talking of old army friends.”

“Gossiping?”

A gleam of appreciation lit his eyes before he answered, straight-faced, “Nothing censorious was said.”

She snorted. He had a sense of humor, thank God. He smiled as if thinking the same.

“Your brother said he would be going home soon. That you are taking him to Tonbridge.”

She nodded.

“He requires a good deal of care?” He made it sound like a question, but she guessed that it was more of a statement. Did he imagine she was unaware of the support she would need?

“I’m hiring a manservant to help tend to him.”

“Ah. Good.” He folded his hands in his lap and studied them. “The hospital is no place for him. He is fortunate to have you.” Then he looked up to glance about the room. “No one has come to chase me off. Who is here with you?”

Her chest knotted. Her answer would tell him everything. She had no other family. She hadn’t funds to hire a companion. She was careless of her reputation. But she would also have him know that she was honest. And unashamed. “I came alone. I had another errand nearby…” She trailed off, seeing his eyes narrow. Then she strengthened her voice and said, “I’m staying with Lord and Lady Stirling.” They were respectable. “It is not so far to walk.”

“Walk? No. Where do they reside?”

Since it was none of his business, she gave him a cutting look and remained silent.

He cleared his throat. “Excuse me. I’m used to barking at people, but I imagine you get enough of that from the colonel. I’m concerned because there are footpads about in the evening.”

“It isn’t evening yet.”

His lips thinned. Then he pressed his hands against his thighs and asked archly, “Miss Harrington, how long were you reading?”

She looked down at the novel. She’d been quite far into the story.

Dash it! She picked up the book and stood abruptly, aware of his eyes on her back as she moved to the shelves to put it back. When she turned around again, she saw he was now also standing, and regarding her steadily.

“Thank you, Major Taverston, for alerting me to the time. I must go.”

He shook his head. “Please permit me to see you back to the Stirlings’.”

“Oh, no. I cannot put you out. I’m sure you have other plans—”

“Miss Harrington,” he interrupted, laughing a little. “I must now browbeat you into putting up with my presence a while longer or else allow you to endanger yourself.”

This was disastrous. She had unwittingly put him in the position of having to volunteer to escort her home. He must wish he’d never stopped to talk with her.

“Absolutely not. Major, I appreciate your offer, but I cannot accept. I will take a hackney cab.” Paying the fare would be penalty for her carelessness.

His face clouded. He appeared ready to argue, but then blinked as if struck by a sudden thought. “If that is what you prefer.” He studied her a moment longer. “Will you permit me to summon one for you?”

Camellia nodded. Mortified. “Thank you.” What a perfect cake she had made of herself. She hoped their paths would not cross again.