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Chapter 8
Nick felt a fool. He’d bungled things, surely, if Miss Pepper believed him to think so low of her. He must do what he could to right the situation. “How was dinner?”
She laughed without mirth. “Long. And boring.”
He cringed. “Robert can be a bit prickly.”
She raised a sleek eyebrow. “The earl can avert with the best of them.”
Nick closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Lowering his hand, he brought wary eyes to meet her. “Do not tell me he ignored you during dinner?”
“No, he did better.” Leaning in, she lowered her voice. “He ignored me in the parlor, and while he escorted me to the foot of the table and then again while he took his leave.”
“The foot of the table?” Nick asked. He pushed himself up on his elbow and cringed, pain lining the planes of his face as he lowered himself back onto the bed.
Miss Pepper frowned and placed a hand on his forearm. “Do not exert yourself. And it is no matter. I hadn’t expected much more.”
“But that table is the size of Scotland.”
“I’d say larger.”
Nick laughed to ease his own tension. He could feel warmth emanating from where her hand rested on his arm and he didn’t want to move or call attention to it for fear she would reclaim her own space.
He ought to snap out of it, dispel the ridiculous romantic notions forming in his mind, but no one had ever made him feel this way. He’d had his share of stolen kisses and moonlit walks with a maiden or two…or ten. But none of them had ignited this internal need to know their thoughts. Not one of them had given him this warm feeling upon a simple contact. Not a single one of them had stared into his eyes and conjured a craving for a hot cup of chocolate.
Miss Pepper had been right. This was dangerous.
She must have noticed his intent stare. She quickly snatched back her hand and sat primly on the edge of the wingback chair, folding her delicate hands in her lap. “You said you had a proposition for me?”
“Yes. How do you feel about adventures?”
Apparently he had chosen the wrong approach. Her face closed up immediately.
She spoke evenly. A little too evenly. “I’ve had my share of them. Can’t say I’m much inclined to willingly partake in another one.”
Her words trailed off. If he could predict how she would have finished that sentence, it would be with ever again.
“Allow me to rephrase.” He flashed her a smile and tried not to feel dismayed when she did not seem phased. Nick cleared his throat. “How do you feel about puzzles? Or mysteries?”
Her eyes lit up. Victory.
“Which one?” she asked.
“Hmm?”
“Which one? Puzzles or mysteries?”
He tried to pinpoint the one that had affected her. “Let’s go with...mysteries?”
Her deep brown eyes lit up once more. The golden flecks hidden within shined in the candlelight and his mouth formed a smile as warmth filled his chest.
“I love a good mystery,” she responded. “Would you like me to read to you?”
The offer was very tempting, and he could see how she had reached that conclusion. The enticement to forsake his scheme and pretend that a story was what he wished for all along was great. But he could not do it. He loved a good mystery himself. And without her help, this one was likely to remain unsolved.
The truth of the matter was this: Nick did not have answers to the questions Miss Pepper had asked him.
“Not entirely. Though I will never say no to a good reading.” He winked and watched her sigh a little in patience. Clearing his throat, he continued. “You see, I cannot help but think there was a great reason your father was banished from Halstead.”
