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He hunted the park for something,anything,to distract. He settled his gaze on a pale butterfly, flitting about a nearby flowered tree. Good Lord, what had become of him? Watching butterflies rather than thinking of naked women. Demeter was doing something strange to his brain and he did not like it.
Foster cleared his throat and lifted his shoulders. “If you should like another walk of the park, my lady, I would be most glad to accompany you. I also appreciate a hearty walk.”
Blake scowled. Now Foster was trying to hold his own against Ashford? His cousin had little chance against the consummate charmer, but it seemed he thought Demeter worth fighting for.
They were right, he thought begrudgingly. Demeter struck him as an undiscovered jewel, buried for years until someone struck the rock and revealed its beauty. He’d been vaguely aware of her being a pretty girl before but she’d been too quiet for his tastes. She remained quiet now, uncertainty flickering in her eyes but that did not take away from the fact her pinkened cheeks and the way she bit upon her bottom lip left her looking most tempting.
“I think I have done enough walking today, thank you,” she replied softly.
Good. He resisted the desire to punch the air.You tell him, Demeter. Put my fool of a cousin in his place.
“I think my sister needs me.” She gestured vaguely behind them. “If you will excuse me, gentlemen.”
He opened his mouth then closed it. He’d scarcely uttered a word to her.. Good Lord, what was happening when Foster was more charming than he was?
“Well, that was interesting,” Ashford commented.
Blake shot his friend a glance and spied a knowing grin spreading across his face. He clamped his teeth together and huffed out a heated breath. He could think of many ways to describe that interaction and none of them were interesting.
Chapter Ten
She touched the paper in her pocket, feeling around the broken wax seal but forcing herself to leave it be. Demeter had read it a dozen times at least, pausing upon the last scribbled letters—Mr. Jacob Blake.
Her pulse pounded in her ears while she scanned the quiet street. Not far from her father’s house, Mount Street offered a well-lit and safe escape from the busier roads surrounding Piccadilly, and she had no doubt Blake had chosen the meeting spot to ensure her safety and to ensure no one spotted her meeting with him.
She pulled the pocket watch out of her waistcoat and flicked it open. Still another ten minutes. She’d replied in the affirmative but could not help steeling against disappointment. Maybe he wouldn’t turn up. Perhaps he was still annoyed about the other day at the park, though she could not fathom quite why he had stood there scowling whilst barely saying a word to her.
She’d escaped quickly, unable to bear the way he kept looking at her. It made her both confused and overheated when his gaze bore into her as though she were the only thing in existence at the time. To say she was befuddled by the whole incident was putting it mildly. She replayed it in her mind over and over and still could not make sense of it.
Perhaps he would explain all tonight when they went to this meeting.
Or perhaps he would not turn up and had decided he did not need her. The very thought lifted a weight off her shoulders at the same time as making her stomach sink.
“Foolish girl,” she muttered, then clamped her mouth shut when a young couple strolled past on the opposite side of the road.
If they saw a young man muttering about being a foolish girl, they might think her addled. Or him addled. Or... It didn’t matter. She would do whatever it was Blake needed her to do and then she could return to loving him from afar. It was much easier and far less confounding.
A carriage rolled around the corner and her heart gave a skip when she recognized the paintwork as that of Blake’s vehicle. Five minutes early, too. That was a good sign was it not? The carriage moved past her and she lifted a hand when it continued on then dropped it to her side, her face heating. Maybe he had seen her and changed his mind?
The clattering of horse hooves ceased and she risked a glance toward the carriage to see the door open and Blake step out. He strode over to her and the glow from the streetlamp highlighted his bemused expression.
“I didn’t recognize you.” He motioned up and down her with a gloved hand.
“You have seen me like this before. Besides, do you not need me to dress this way? So that I can go unnoticed to this meeting?”
He gave a low chuckle. “You think I would just send you in without a plan?”
She opened her mouth, then closed it. They hadn’t discussed anything about this meeting—where it was taking place, between whom, or what she was meant to be looking out for. It had not occurred to her a man like Blake would want to plan it out but then she hadn’t expected him to glower and act all brooding when she was speaking with his cousin.
“I thought it best we not be seen together,” she finally said, the words not sounding as firm as she’d like.
His mouth tilted. “Naturally.” He waved at the carriage. “Shall we?”
Demeter followed him and nearly took the offered hand until she recalled how odd it would look. He dropped his hand to his side, apparently realizing the same and allowed her to heft herself up and settle on the leather seat.
He tapped the roof of the carriage and drew the curtains across the two windows with an efficient swish. No doubt he entertained many a lover in this very carriage and his driver thought nothing of driving about at night with the curtains shut to hide any scandalous behavior.
Warmth flowed through her when she registered how close they were. Their knees nearly touched. His cologne—a fresh, clean scent—suffused the air. She had to force herself not to inhale more deeply lest she overheat so much that she fainted.
