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They had just stepped out when the front door opened, and the butler greeted them politely. “Good evening, gentlemen,” he said, opening the door wide.
“Good evening,” Guy responded as he stepped into the entry hall.
“I’m afraid no one has come down for dinner yet,” the butler said. “Would you care to wait in the drawing room?”
“We would,” Guy replied.
After they stepped into the drawing room, Hawthorne glanced over at him. “Are you nervous?”
“Why would I be nervous?”
“It has been my experience that people feel nervous when they know they have something to lose.”
“I have nothing to lose,” Guy said. “Besides, I have stared into the barrel of a pistol before and not blinked. Why would I be nervous about having dinner with Miss Locke?”
Before Hawthorne could reply, the lady in question walked into the room with her grandmother. She was dressed in a white gown with a round neckline, and her hair was piled high atop her head.
Miss Locke was exquisite, but she was so much more than just a pretty face. She was beautiful, deep down to her soul. It was evident by the way her eyes sparkled when she spoke about something she was passionate about and how she cared for others. She was the most complex, yet intriguing, young woman he had ever met.
Hawthorne leaned closer. “You are staring,” he whispered in a smug voice.
Guy cleared his throat and averted his gaze.
Miss Locke spoke up. “I do hope you haven’t been waiting for long,” she said.
“We have only just arrived,” Guy rushed to assure her.
“I am pleased to hear that.”
Guy smiled politely at Lady Frances and gestured towards Hawthorne. “Lady Frances, please allow me to introduce you to my friend, Hawthorne.”
Hawthorne bowed. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Frances.”
A kind smile came to Lady Frances’ face. “Likewise.”
Phineas’ stunned voice came from the doorway. “Lord Hawthorne?” he asked.
Miss Locke looked at him with questions in her eyes. “Lord?” she mouthed.
Hawthorne tipped his head at Phineas. “It is good to see you, Mr. Amesbury.”
“Whatever are you doing here in Anmore?” Phineas asked as he stepped further into the room.
Without the slightest hesitation, Hawthorne explained, “I am an investor in the bank, and I came to check on Mr. Stewart’s progress.”
Phineas seemed satisfied with his response. “I haven’t seen you since we gambled that one night at Queen’s Gambling Hall.”
“I’m afraid I don’t gamble anymore,” Hawthorne remarked. “My wife sees to that.”
Phineas bobbed his head. “It is a terrible vice.”
“That it is,” Hawthorne agreed.
The butler entered the room and announced dinner was ready. Hawthorne offered his arm to Lady Frances. “Allow me to escort you to the dining room, my lady.”
“Thank you, my lord,” Lady Frances said as she accepted his arm.
After they departed from the drawing room, Guy approached Miss Locke. “May I escort you to the dining room?”
