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“Well … the drama, I suppose. I also enjoy attending the opera and theatre.”
“I imagine there’s a great deal of that in London.”
There was something in Reginald’s eyes that was intoxicating. Was it admiration that she viewed?
“Yes, that’s why I wish to stay in London indefinitely.” Sarah returned her gaze to the fire. “Although my father wishes for other things … ”
“For you to wed.”
Sarah darted her gaze back at Reginald. Why did it feel as though he could see right through her? She heaved a sigh. For a brief moment, there was an element of danger to the encounter.
“Marriage for a woman in my station is compulsory.”
“That is understood.”
“So yes, it’s at the forefront of my father’s mind.”
“And because you read Gothic novels, you wish to marry for love.”
Sarah paused. Reginald was one sly fox, and he was seated rather close.
“And is there anything amiss with that?”
“Of course not.” Reginald gazed into the fire. “I believe in it—marrying for love. Sadly, my father, the former earl, passed away some years ago, and my mother departed when I was a mere child. I have no one to tell me what to do or whom I should marry, so I share in your sentiment.”
Sarah felt a smile come to her lips. It was apparent why everyone took to Lord Reginald so quickly. So far, she couldn’t discover anything that she didn’t like.
“And so, you travel the world because there’s nothing to tie you down.”
“That’s precisely it.”
“Oh, it must be so wonderful to be so unencumbered.”
The earl’s expression turned grave. “Yet, there are moments when I wish to be tied down.”
Sarah cocked her head. “What do you mean?”
Reginald heaved a sigh. “I have my freedom; it’s true. But even freedom can be a cage. I wish that I had something to tie me down—something to bind myself to.”
That pesky flush upon Sarah’s cheek continued to get worse and worse. She brought a hand up to cool it.
“I suppose you’re a very traditional sort of man, deep down.”
“And you’re a very traditional sort of lady. There’s no need to conceal your cheeks.”
Sarah froze, then slowly lowered her hand. An indescribable panic set in, and Sarah got up from the floor. “If you’ll excuse me, My Lord. I think that we’ve tarried too long.”
Reginald looked up at her. “Stay … for just a bit longer.”
Sarah blinked her eyes several times as she looked down at the earl. What was the right course of action? The conversation was painfully intimate, and she’d been alone in his presence for an unnatural amount of time.
Against her better judgement, Sarah slowly seated herself again. Did the earl have some sort of magic power over her? She didn’t feel like herself—willful, independent, even aloof.
“Tell me something,” Sarah said. “I believe that you’re not who you say you are.”
The earl paused and then spoke. “And why would you say that?” His gaze was unflinching.
“I have a sinking suspicion that you believe yourself to be shy.” Sarah smiled to herself. She didn’t know why the idea came to mind, but she sensed it to be true.
“Then I’ll say that you’re correct. I am shy.”
“But you marched right into the duke’s estate and made fast friends.”
“We are all able to do powerful things … when we must.”
