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She glowered at his back, something she hadn’t the nerve to do to his front the past few days. But why bother with niceties she didn’t feel? The house party would end next week, and she would never have to see him again. She ignored the bite of regret that followed the thought.
Georgiana tilted her head back to laugh again and caught sight of Sylvia. “Oh, there is Miss Sparrow now!”
Sylvia let out a little sigh. It was too late to make an escape. She approached them stiffly, determined to stay only a moment to retrieve her things and treat Mr. Davies with the same cool politeness he bestowed upon her in public.
“Good afternoon, Miss Sparrow.”
Her resolve faltered slightly at his silky tone and easy smile, but Sylvia tipped her chin up. “Sir,” she said with only a touch of asperity. It would go against her purposes if he knew just how deeply he had gotten under her skin. Then she held out her hand, palm up. “If you’ll be so kind as to pass me my things, I will leave you to your visit.”
Her imperious tone seemed to take him by surprise, but Mr. Davies quickly gathered her notebook from the side table. “Here you are.”
His fingers brushed hers briefly, and Sylvia had to fight the tremble that rippled down her arm. It had not escaped her notice how well-formed his hands were. “Thank you,” she said with exacting politeness, then glanced over at Georgiana. The viscountess’s mouth was hanging open in such a decidedly unladylike display that Sylvia had to look away before she burst out laughing and ruined everything.
Once she had exited the room and made it halfway down the hallway, her shoulders sagged with relief. There. That had gone remarkably well. If shehadto see him again, she could easily treat him in the same distant manner––
“Miss Sparrow!”
Sylvia froze. It was Mr. Davies. And he looked rather aggrieved.
She had not planned for this.
He approached her and swiftly bowed. “I can’t help but think you left on my account. Not that I don’t deserve it,” he added sheepishly.
Sylvia rolled her eyes. This false modesty was really too much.
“Don’t trouble yourself with such delusions, sir.” He let out a little huff, but before he could speak further, Sylvia continued. “I know this must be a difficult concept for you to understand, but I am not flattered by your fickle attentions.”
Instead of being offended, he merely tilted his head and studied her. “Is that so?”
The lazy drawl of his voice paired with the gleam in his eyes caused the most distracting flutter in a rather inconvenient part of her body. “What is it youwant?” she demanded.
“Right this moment or in general?” Sylvia scoffed and began to turn away, but he caught her elbow. “Wait! I’m sorry. I came to ask if you were going to the entertainment this evening.”
The warmth from his large, firm fingers seeped through the sleeve of her blouse, and the inconvenient fluttering turned into a rather fierce pulse. His eyes were now dark and serious. “You––you mean the dancing?” Mr. Wardale had arranged for a quartet to come to the house and play for the guests. He nodded and pulled his hand back slowly, letting the tips of his fingers drag down her arm just a little. Sylvia cleared her throat and straightened. “I am Mrs. Crawford’s companion, Mr. Davies. What use would I have for dancing?”
“I imagine the same as everyone. For fun.”
She gave him a determined frown, desperately trying to recapture her disdain. “I have work to do.”
“Surely Mrs. Crawford’s memoirs can be neglected for an evening,” he teased as his full mouth stretched in a slow, tantalizing smile.
Sylvia cleared her throat and shrugged. It was the only response she could manage at the moment.
Mr. Davies’s smile turned into a grin, and he bowed again. “Until then, Miss Sparrow.”
He turned around, tucked his hands in his pockets, and began whistling a tune she didn’t recognize. Sylvia watched him stroll down the entire length of hallway back to the library before she came to her senses and stormed off in the opposite direction.
***
Georgiana returned to the suite a little while later wearing a knowing smile, but she said nothing of Mr. Davies, and Sylvia refused toask. But when it was time to dress for dinner, Georgiana pulled her into her room and thrust an evening gown into her arms.
“You need to wear that later. I know we aren’t quite the same size, but Bea said she could easily take it in for the night.”
Sylvia held up the gown, which had been tailored to fit over Georgiana’s enviable curves. It was a gorgeous burgundy velvet overlaid with intricate black beadwork at the bodice and quarter-length puffed sleeves. “Absolutely not,” she immediately said. “Why on earth did you even bring it? I’ve never seen you wear this color.”
“I thought it might be useful,” she said with a wink. “Aren’t the sleeves adorable?”
Sylvia shot her a half-hearted glare before running her fingers over the impossibly fine fabric. “Thank you, but I have an evening gown already.”
