Page 76 of Miss Delancey’s Tragicomedy

He held up a hand. “Not necessary.” Good Lord. He might as well move in with them. “I came to see if Miss Delancey would care to come for a ride with me in the park.”

Miss Delancey stiffened.

“Is that a good idea? It will look like you’re paying court,” Lynch said.

Dessie patted his arm. “They won’t be conspicuous. It’s too early for the Hyde Park promenade—”

“And I thought we’d go to Green Park.” It was less popular with the ton.

“Which smacks of sneaking around,” Lynch said. “Robin, what game are you—”

“For heavens’ sake!” Miss Delancey stood. “The invitation was extended to me. And my acceptance does not require a vote.” She stepped away from the table and crooked her finger at him. “Let’s go.”

On the way to the front door, Miss Delancey asked a footman to fetch her spencer jacket, hat, and gloves. They waited until he brought them. Trentham held her jacket while she slipped it on. Her lavender fragrance engulfed his senses, as it had in his dreams, bringing to mind other very pleasing things. He let his fingertips glide along the nape of her neck and smiled to see her lightly tremble. But he dropped his hand quickly to his side when she turned and scowled.

As they stepped outside, and he summoned his curricle closer, Miss Delancey asked, “So what game are you playing, Your Grace?”

Was she angry about last night? Of course, she was. He’d acted too well the part of a rake. He needed to correct that impression.

“Not a game, Miss Delancey, I assure you. I hope I made obvious to you last evening that I intend to court you. Sincerely.”

“Nothing about you is obvious. Or, I’m afraid, sincere. If I’m not mistaken, you are still courting someone else.”

“I went to the Barringtons’ earlier to tell Lady Elizabeth I would withdraw my suit.”

Her eyes widened. “Did you?”

“Yes, but she wasn’t at home.” He added as the thought came to him, “Or at least, she wasn’t at home to me.”

Miss Delancey sighed. He couldn’t interpret whether it was an exasperated sigh or a resigned one. But it was certainly not a sigh of joy.

Trentham helped her into his curricle, then climbed up beside her and urged the horses forward.

Staring down at her hands, Miss Delancey said, “I hope you don’t expect encouragement from me while Lady Elizabeth is still under the impression that you wish to marry her.”

“No.” He had to get this right. “No, but even were you to reject me outright, I would still cease to hound her. It was a flawed plan from the start. She is a person, not my ticket to redemption.” Bother. Redemption? A word that would raise eyebrows. He cleared his throat and added hurriedly, “Nevertheless, I admire her greatly. It takes great strength of character to be so impossibly rude.”

That surprised a small laugh out of Miss Delancey.

He continued, “After last night, I wanted to—to clear the air. I fear I behaved badly.”

“As did I. You don’t need to apologize.”

“I don’t intend to. As my mother once told me, the second time my governess found a frog in her bed, the bedrock of an apology is ‘I won’t do it again’. An insincere apology is worse than none at all. I’m not sorry I kissed you.” He risked a sidelong glance.

Her gaze rose to meet his, then fell, and she pressed her lips tightly.

The curricle jounced, and he refocused his attention on the rutted road so they wouldn’t overturn. All he needed to complete his fumbling of this explanation was a carriage accident. But his horses were top-notch, and he easily turned them to a safer course.

Back to it. “There are things you should know, before deciding whether or not to accept my attentions. First, which I tell you in confidence, is that the Wormsley name is going to be immersed in scandal.” Again. “Soon.”

“Dessie told me you and Lynch were meeting with a solicitor this morning. Lady Townes is going to sue for divorce. Good for her. And good for you, for encouraging her to do it.” She gave him a long look. “I imagine it will be difficult for you as well.”

He nodded. “It will.” Felicity’s scandal would undoubtedly dredge up his own. This was his cue to confess, now, before Miss Delancey heard of it elsewhere. But he’d come unprepared and the words stuck in his throat. “However, the most important thing is that she escapes from Sir George.”

A landau he recognized was coming down the street toward them. There was no way to avoid it. “There’s Lord Grenville.” A worse gossip than a woman. “Do you know him?”

“A nose tap.”