Page 67 of Pleasantly Pursued

She gave a sharp intake of breath, and I stilled, my heart racing.

“But only if it is equally desired by both parties,” I whispered.

Thea ran her hands up the front of my waistcoat and gathered my lapels in her hands, pulling me closer. “It is equally desired.”

My hand tightened on her waist, my other hand sliding to the back of her neck, and I leaned forward, my lips just a breath away from hers, when loud, clicking footsteps sounded at the far end of the corridor.

Thea sprang back, and I turned away, heat slicing through my body and making my hands shake. I picked up my discarded coat and flung it over my arm. “Go that way,” I whispered.

Thea did not question me. She hurried down the short corridor and turned the corner just in time to avoid being seen by Forester entering at the opposite end.

“Good evening,” I said to the butler, commanding my pulse to slow. I walked toward him.

He bowed. “Good evening, sir. You will not be wanting dinner, correct?”

“Correct. We ate in town.” I paused, hoping to give Thea a little more time to get away. “If you see Robbins, will you send him up?”

“He should already be upstairs, sir. We are in a mighty upheaval, preparing to leave with such little notice.”

I stopped. “Who is preparing to leave?”

“Most everyone. Robbins believed you intended to go to Town with Mr. and Mrs. Bradwell.”

“I do, but that is not for three weeks.”

“It has been moved up, sir. We now leave in a sennight.”

Only a week? “Whatever for?”

“You will have to ask Miss Northcott that, sir.”

“Of course.” It stood to reason that Thea was at the root of this change. Though . . . why? How was I to win her over in only a week? A small smile slipped over my lips. If her attitude minutes ago was any clue, then perhaps it would not be as difficult as I had imagined.

Chapter24

THEA

Ihad gone mad. My brain had been addled and was now scrambled like an egg. There was no other explanation for the way I had allowed Benedict Bradwell to nearlykissme.

I’d been interested to learn if kissing Benedict would be any better than kissing Peter Seymour had been. I had a feeling there would be a large difference between the two experiences, but now I would never know. I’d allowed myself to be carried away last night in the romance of the moment, but the new morning brought a fresh clearness to my mind and a reminder of why I could never be with a man like Benedict.

He was too much like my father—his tendencies too similar for comfort. His flagrant disregard for Miss Dodwell’s feelings when he treated her with such distinction and no intention of continuing their relationship was further proof. He lacked a basic respect for women’s expectations, exactly like Father had.

My logic did not stop me from wanting to see him again, however.

The passing of night and the appearance of the sun had given me pause to consider meeting Benedict at the stables at dawn, but I could not leave while my room was in such upheaval.

The servants were forced to prepare our departure much faster than expected, and it was because of me.

Hannah was sorting through my gowns, selecting the ones she thought would best work for different uses in London, and organizing them on my bed in different piles. Most of them had been sitting in my clothes press for at least a year, left behind here while I’d visited on school breaks. I did not mind wearing gowns that were not at the peak of fashion, but I was uncertain whether or not most of them would fit me anymore.

A light knock at the door preceded Lady Edith’s entrance, and I welcomed her. “I think this is all a little too much,” I said, indicating the gowns.

“That is what I hoped to talk to you about. I’ve given Felicity the name and direction of my favorite dressmaker on Bond Street, and she has agreed to take you there once you arrive in London. You can trust that anything you purchase there will be at the height of fashion.”

“I’m not overly concerned with fashion, but I would not be opposed to new gowns.”

She nodded, then faced Hannah. “She still must take her habit and whatever dresses are passable for Society. The pink gown and the sage green ones, certainly. Maybe the plum, too?”

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