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“Well, it’s an excellent habit. Some women drip themselves in jewels but you do not need such dramatic embellishment. It suits you very well.”
The pink in her cheeks deepened.
“Now then—”
His mother and Mrs. Knighton entered the room that now felt small indeed. He didn’t know whether to be annoyed or grateful. At least Ashford would cease flirting with Demeter.
“I was just thinking we should call for some tea,” his mother said, settling on the burgundy sofa.
Demeter’s aunt followed suit after sharing a glance with his mother. Just what exactly was going on today?
“Aunt Sarah, I really think—”
The front bell rang and Hammond scurried off to answer it.
“What now?” Blake was unable to stop himself from declaring.
He shouldn’t have been surprised when his cousin stepped into the room, his gaze falling immediately on Demeter. A smile crossed his lips too but it made Blake more tense than Ashford’s. It wasn’t predatory as such but the way his gaze fixed firmly upon her, as though she were the only woman in existence, set his nerves on edge.
“Forgive me,” he declared, “I did not realize you were entertaining today. I only wished to come and consult with you about the ball at Knowle. As you know, it shall be my first and I intend to honor my mother as best as I can, and, well, you knew her best...”
“I did,” Blake was unable to stop himself from saying.And you knew nothing of her...
“But I can come back another time...”
“Nonsense, Foster. You are here now.” Ashford motioned for him to join him and Demeter, ignoring Blake’s pointed look.
Well, this was wonderful. Apparently he had no say in who visited or who stayed. He might as well leave and he imagined no one would even notice. The two elderly women shared quiet murmurs and the odd laugh while Demeter stood in between Foster and Ashford, looking as though she were watching a rackets match—all wide-eyed and far too pretty. Had Ashford and Foster noticed how kissable her lips looked? Or how long her hair was?
He shook himself and motioned to Hammond. “It looks as though we shall be needing tea.”
“Of course, sir.” Hammond remained expressionless but he knew the butler would be surprised. The last time he had hosted a proper ‘at home’ was...
Well, he couldn’t recall ever doing it. Parties and entertainments were more his style.
“We were just speaking of Lady Demeter’s love of dogs,” Foster said when he approached. “It seems a shame you cannot own at least one. They are wonderful companions. I have two young pups at the estate and you would quite adore them.”
She sent a look Blake’s way and he had to remind himself that she knew this charm wasn’t real, that she would not fall for it. A stupid, tiny part of him kept pulling at his mind though.
But what if she did fall for it? it asked.
No. She was too clever for that. He, however, was an utter dolt. She’d mentioned the dog thing before but he’d never thought much on it. It seemed it was not just that she liked dogs and was willing to jump in front of angry men to save them but that she really, truly adored dogs. And the flower thing...why had he never asked about that?
He grimaced as his friend and cousin continued to engage her in conversation. Since when were Ashford and the bumbling Foster better with women than him?
Chapter Fifteen
For a surreptitious assignation, this was incredibly dull.
Well, Demeter supposed it was not entirely dull. She was with Blake after all and she did not imagine any woman would ever complain of being in his company. He had the ability to make anyone feel the center of his focus, despite the fact they were here to watch for his cousin.
Thus far, the man had not showed and the evening was wearing on. Much longer and she’d fall asleep. Her eyes were heavy, not helped by the fact she had been unable to sleep the previous night, aware their meeting was tonight, and her stomach would not cease somersaulting.
Blake had been correct about the inn. She might be able to walk into a gaming hell with her head held high but even disguised as a boy, this place made her skin crawl. A rat scurried across her foot the moment she entered the building and she’d been forced to bite back a scream.
For appearance’s sake, they shared a bottle of whisky, but she threw most of it on the floor, concluding no one would notice a spill on the already sticky floorboards. She’d never really enjoyed whisky despite it being her aunt’s tipple of choice and this liquor left a bitter, burning taste on her tongue. Whatever the owners of this establishment mixed it with, it could not be good.
As the patrons imbibed more and more alcohol, the volume levels increased and conversing with Blake became nearly impossible. She supposed that was a fine thing considering when he talked she could not remove her gaze from his lips.
