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Apparently, he and Honoria weren’t the only ones to notice the slight. Oliver grasped Timothy’s coat sleeve as he turned to leave. “Might I be of assistance? I know something of the repercussions of theton’sdisapproval.”
“Let me speak with her first. But thank you.”
Oliver nodded and released his grip on Timothy’s arm.
A flash of pink, the color of Priscilla’s gown, rounded a corner as Timothy hurried inside his sister’s home. He increased his speed, nearly knocking over a footman carrying a large tray of canapés. The man spun but kept the tray and its contents upright, clearly up to the task of his position.
After a quick apology, Timothy continued his pursuit. Resisting the urge to yell her name, he finally caught up with her and grabbed her elbow, stopping her. “Priscilla, wait.”
She turned toward him, her face a mask of pain. Tears streaked her cheeks, still hot with the blush of shame, and she wiped them away. “This is impossible. I’ve been a fool to think things would change and I would be forgiven.”
“That’s not true,” he said, knowing full well his words held little weight.
The look on her face told him she recognized the lie. “Even if it weren’t”—she directed a glare his way—“which it is. My prospects have not improved. Mr. Ugbrooke sent his apologies that he would no longer be calling. He was my only hope here in London.”
The unholy name forced its way to the tip of his tongue. “What about Nash? He seems to have become your champion.” Lord, how the thought churned his stomach.
“Contrary to your belief, although he has been nothing but kind”—she held up her hand to silence his oncoming protest—“it’s clear he has no genuine interest in me. I’m a fool, but I hoped for passion. To know the kind of love the duke and duchess have. There is no fire in Nash’s heart for me, not like I see in . . .”
She jerked back, averting her eyes as if he would see the truth in them.
Was he that transparent? Were his efforts to tamp down the building—and unwanted—emotion an utter failure? He should have held his tongue, maintaining his innocence of her meaning.
Yet he could not. “See where? In whom?”
Her gaze swung back, her own eyes blazing with the passion of which she spoke. But unlike the passion of love, hers burned with anger. “You know very well in whom. Although you refuse to admit it.”
“Out with it, Priscilla. Let’s not play these games.”
“You. Damn you. In your eyes.”
* * *
How couldhe be so nonplussed? His moss-green eyes stared blankly at her as if she’d spoken in a foreign tongue, his jaw hanging ajar.
She wanted to scream, but she kept her voice low lest they be overheard. “Don’t deny it. At least have the decency to be honest with me, even if it comes to naught.”
From the corner of her eye, a black cat lurked stealthily from the shadows, diverting her attention. She loved cats.
Timothy’s gaze dropped to follow hers, his eyes widening even further in horror. “Hurry.” He grabbed Priscilla’s arm and veritably yanked her into an adjacent room, slamming the door behind them.
“What in the world? It was only a little cat.”
“That was no cat. That was a demon. My sister’s, to be precise, named Catpurrnicus. We’re lucky to have escaped unscathed.”
Surely he jested? “If this is your not-so-subtle attempt to get me alone, you only needed to ask. It’s not like we haven’t been unchaperoned before, if you recall.”
Was he truly so quick to forget their time together in Mr. Thatcher’s cottage?
“You’re the one accusing me of having some feelings you seem to have conjured in your imagination.”
Oh, she wanted to slap him. Stamp her foot on his. Throw a boot. How could he be so infuriating! “Do you deny it then? You hold no desire for me?”
He tore his gaze away. “Desire isn’t love, Priscilla. You shouldn’t confuse the two.”
“I’m not. I know you don’t love me,” she bit the words out. Pain lanced through her with every syllable, and she choked back the tears clogging her throat. “But you do want me. Desire me. At least admit that much.”
He paced before her, dragging a hand through his thick hair. “What do you want from me?” The words were spoken so softly, she wasn’t sure they were actually meant for her ears.
