Page 47 of The Language of Love

“Are you headed to the Park? If so, you are going the wrong way.”

He flicked a gaze up and down the street. “Am I? Perhaps you might come with me—just to show me the way.”

“Come with you?”

“I asked you for a ride in the park at the Tinley ball, but you disappeared without giving an answer.”

He was kindly ignoring the reason for her abrupt disappearance that night: her wretched cousin’s demand that Annis go fetch her reticule. Immediately after that pointless errand, her aunt had needed something, and then Miriam, until finally the night was over without her seeing Henry again.

“I’m sorry I had to leave supper so abruptly that night.”

“I was sorry, too. I was hoping to make the offer again when his lordship and I called at your aunt’s house—twice—but I’ve not seen hide nor hair of you since.”

Annis perked up at the idiom and then saw his lips twitch into a smile.

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you, Mr. Parker?”

He grinned. “Yes, guilty as charged. And call me Henry. If you come ride with me, you can tell me the origin of that fascinating phrase.”

“I thought his lordship was going to the alfresco party today?” Annis asked.

“Yes, we both were.”

Panic seized her. “And it is already over?” Her aunt would be livid to find her gone.

“His lordship is still at the party. It is only I who left early—you needn’t worry, your aunt and cousins should be there for hours yet.” He extended a big hand, clad in black leather. “Come, let me give you a hand up.”

Annis stared up into his changeable eyes, which were darker today—a fascinating blend of amber, gold, and brown—and were quickly losing their good humor the longer she made him wait.

But still she hesitated, her aunt’s stricture—that she do nothing to alienate the affections of Mr. Norburg—running through her head.

But surely Mr. Norburg would never learn about a ride in the park?

Henry’s hand wavered, and his expression hardened even more. Annis feared he saw her hesitation as evidence that she would be ashamed to be seen with him, as her cousins had told her she should be.

She shoved aside her qualms and reached up.

“That’s a girl,” he said. “Put your foot on that step and I’ll help you up.”

When she did as he bade, he pulled her up with no more effort than he would a doll.

“Here, settle in beside me—there’s plenty of room.”

Annis had never been in a phaeton before; it was like viewing the world from a cloud. The narrow seat was cushioned and soft, covered in diamond-tucked black leather with an insubstantial back and side rail that made her feel as if she would topple out.

He shifted slightly, his muscular thigh rubbing against her much smaller leg as he attempted to make more space for her.

“Comfortable?” he asked.

His face was very close, and she could see the ring of antique gold around his changeable irises. He was very large and masculine—far more so than Mr. Leech, who’d been handsome, but slender and fine-boned—and something about his chiseled jaw and full, firm lips made her entire body thrum with excitement. A reaction she’d never experienced with Mr. Leech. Or Mr. Norburg.

She blinked up at him, powerful sensations swirling in her belly. He smelled so good and the bergamot teased her nostrils. His hard, warm person pressed up against her and—

“Annis?” His eyes crinkled with a mix of concern and amusement. “Are you comfortable?”

“It is a long way down.”

His beautiful lips pulled up into a rakish smile. “It is. But I shan’t tip us over.”