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She sighed, set the hoop on her knees, and removed her spectacles so they hung upon their delicate gold chain around her neck. “I am worried for you, Blakey.”
“Since when do you worry for me?”
“Iamyour mother.” She rose from the chair and dropped the embroidery on the seat behind her before stepping close.
She reached for him but he ducked back. He might not hold any ill will toward his mother, however, he wasn’t sure he was ready for hugs. There had been a distinct lack of them as a child and he wasn’t sure he even knew how to partake in an embrace.
A flicker of disappointment shuttered her gaze and her lips pressed together.
“Well, your concern is unwarranted,” he said firmly. “I am perfectly well and I have little idea why you should feel any worry over me.”
Fingers twining together, his mother glanced to the floor then up at him, biting on her bottom lip. “I know Iris’s death was hard on you. You were close.” Her throat bobbed. “Your father’s sister gave you what...” Her chest rose and fell and tears shimmered in the corner of her eyes. “What I could not.”
Blake turned away swiftly as his throat tightened. He didn’t want to think about Aunt Iris or his mother or any of the past if he was honest. Of course he missed her. She’d been the one kind adult in his life and even as he’d grown, their relationship remained strong.
Straightening, he forced a neutral expression. “I am fine, Mother,” he insisted. “Aunt Iris was old. It was her time. She even said she was ready.” He eased out a shuddery breath. “We’d all be lucky to go in our sleep.”
His mother stretched out a hand, her bony fingers weighed down by a jeweled ring on almost every finger. He ignored it and she clasped her hand back to her chest.
“Jacob,” she said softly.
The doorbell chimed through the house and Blake allowed himself a long, less shuddery breath. With any luck it would be Ashford and they could escape whatever the devil was going on with his mother. He didn’t even wait for the butler to bring in a card before striding to the front of the house.
Unfortunately, Ashford had not arrived to rescue him and whilst he was grateful for the conversation to be over, he wasn’t certain he was ready to have both Demeter and his mother under one roof. Especially as it seemed Demeter’s aunt had come to play chaperone. He managed a polite smile but all he found himself doing was staring at Demeter’s lips.
They’d been so soft.
They’d tasted of ale—bitter and cool.
They’d been so, so soft.
It was odd. Kisses were for seduction. They were fast and fierce and hot. Yet that briefest touch of lips lingered in his mind more than any of the previous kisses in his life.
Demeter clutched a delicate beaded reticule in one hand while a string of white fabric flowers were looped about the other wrist, matching her pale lace gown. He’d noticed that she always had flowers about her person as though encouraging him to do a hunt for it. It couldn’t mean much, after all, women liked flowers, but he did not need the encouragement to rove her body with his gaze to see if there were more, or where they were next.
He looked swiftly away. Her aunt smiled serenely, as though she hadn’t noticed the lascivious looks he’d been unwittingly bestowing upon her niece.
Demeter gave a tight smile. “Mr. Blake, I hope you do not mind us calling unannounced but I was hoping I might discuss a m-matter with you.”
He scowled. She did not wish to discuss the kiss, did she? Surely not. What was there to even discuss? No one saw them, and unless she had confessed all to her brother or father, nothing would come of it.
Good Lord, he’d been a fool. What had he been thinking kissing an innocent like Demeter? Especially while dressed as a boy. If anyone had seen them, he’d have more things to worry about than an arranged marriage to a duke’s daughter.
“Ah Mrs. Blake.” Mrs. Knighton darted around him to take his mother’s hands. “How pleasing to see you here. I was hoping to take a little stroll around the gardens and now I shall have some company. We can leave these two to discuss...things.”
His mother looked perplexed then her eyes widened and she smiled softly. “But of course. It is such lovely weather and it has been so long since we have talked.”
Blake narrowed his gaze. He was certain he’d seen them together only the other day at the park. By the time the two women had bustled outside, he realized quite what was happening. They thought they were getting involved in some sort of matchmaking scenario.
He shook his head to himself. It did not matter how much that tiny, brief kiss had rocked the very foundations of his world or how he’d never experienced anything like it. He would never marry and he would never turn into his father.
Chapter Fourteen
Twin emotions of amusement and horror stirred in Demeter’s stomach. A smile insisted on curving her lips as Blake’s mother paused to tweak his cravat before he left but then she gave Demeter an approving look and her stomach pitched to the floor. Her aunt had never been a subtle woman but when two experienced women made it obvious they saw her as a love match for Blake, she wondered what chance she really stood.
Well, about as much as before she supposed. Just with an added hint of humiliation when Blake made it clear he had no desire to marry her. His horrified expression after kissing her was enough to end any silly, girlish ideas she might have secretly harbored. She had to be realistic. As much as she loved Blake, they were a terrible match. He must think so too if his reaction to their kiss was anything to go by.
He motioned to the room to the right, started to say something then stopped himself. She moved into what turned out to be a drawing room, furnished in wholly masculine tastes.
