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“Sorry, Blake, I, uh, cannot recall where I put it.”
Blake swung his attention to his cousin, noting the redness of his face. “You know, I just recalled, I am meant to be meeting Ashford this afternoon.”
Foster’s brows rose. “Oh?”
“Forgive me, Cousin. I had better make haste.”
Blake ignored his cousin’s chatter of dinner parties and when they would meet again and bid him a vague goodbye, but all he could picture as he marched briskly down the road was that damned elephant.
It was foolish to feel hurt over an object. Ridiculous, even. But that elephant had been one of the first things he’d seen when he’d come to his aunt’s house after years of neglect, and it had always held a fascination for him. He’d admired the creature, rubbing it in a certain spot for comfort so often he wore it smooth.
The bastard was selling off his aunt’s belongings, he was certain of it and now he had to stop his cousin before more of Aunt Iris’s legacy vanished. As soon as possible.
It did not take him long to arrive at Demeter’s home, nor to concoct an excuse to visit again so quickly after their walk in the park.
The temptation to watch Demeter while she tucked a strand of hair behind her ears and perused a book, entirely unaware of his presence in the doorway of the room bore into him, however, did slow Blake down. He swore he could watch her for hours, especially when she nibbled on her bottom lip. His whole body tightened with need and he cleared his throat in a bid to rid himself of the sensation.
She jolted, her eyes going wide. “G-good Lord, Blake. What are you doing here?”
Demeter strode over to him, looked up and down the corridor and snatched his arm so tight her nails were going to leave imprints. She hauled him into the room, revealing it to be the music room. The late hour offered a dusky light through the windows, muting the pale greens and golds to a gray.
“I was speaking with your brother,” he explained. “But I wanted to see you.”
She frowned, set the book down on top of the piano and closed the door gently behind her.
“What were you speaking to my brother about?”
“Our engagement of course.”
“Oh Lord.” A hand to her chest, she sagged against the piano. “Why would you do such a thing?”
“The fact I even asked for your hand without speaking to your father or brother is not exactly the done thing,” said Blake easily. After all, it was not entirely a lie. “Anton let it be known he was not best pleased, so I thought I should have a word with him lest he do something drastic like call me out.”
“Anton is so old-fashioned sometimes,” she muttered.
“He’s a man with four sisters. I do not blame him for being protective.”
“Well, you should not have spoken to him. Now you are making it look even more real.”
Real.The word rattled around his mind. It didn’t just look real, it felt real. Especially now he had her alone. She wore her hair in a loose braid that draped over one shoulder. Clearly she’d dressed for comfort now dinner was over, wearing a plain muslin dress and a long cream wrapper, bound loosely at the waist. He could not be certain but he swore she wasn’t wearing stays. Without the blasted outer layer, he would know for sure and so much of him longed to tug her close, loosen the ties of the garment, then shove it from her shoulders.
Oh yes. This felt all too real.
“I wanted to speak with you too.” He clenched the brim of his hat tight. If he held onto it, he would not give into the need to touch her. Did she have to look so blasted pretty without all the gems and lace and curls?
“Oh?”
“You know I accompanied my cousin home today after our walk in the park.”
“You found something out?”
“He’s selling off my aunt’s belongings.” He couldn’t keep the bitter edge from his tone. They were only things and his aunt would remind him of that if she were still alive, but they were more than that. They wereherbelongings—things she adored.
Her brows lifted and she pushed away from the piano. “He’s just inherited a sizable fortune surely? Why would he do such a thing? Did he explain why?”
“No. In fact, I believe he did not think I would notice. But there were two paintings missing as well as some candlesticks she inherited from her father and...” He swallowed, feeling the break in his voice. “This ornament that...” He drew in a breath. “Well, it was important. The will would have stipulated it could not be sold, I’m certain of it.”
“This doesn’t mean anything, though, does it?”
