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I fought a smile. For all of her concentration on the keys beneath her fingers, she was speaking in the most ridiculous manner. “It will never be superior to jam, so it ought to grow used to the disappointment.”
A chuckle escaped Thea’s perfect lips, and my attention was drawn to them immediately. I wanted to kiss those lips. Being as close as I had been the other night, only to have the opportunity stolen from me by my butler’s clomping footsteps, was torture.
“What is it?” she asked, the smile sliding from her face.
“I was just thinking about how you are going to kiss me by the end of the Season.”
Thea’s fingers hit a wrong note, but she played on. I did not tear my gaze away from her face to see if we’d gathered attention from anyone else in the family. She looked at them quickly, then settled her pert smile on me with the smugness of a tiny pug advancing on a boarhound.
She played the song till the end, folded her hands in her lap, turned her face up, and said, “The only thing you will be kissing, Benedict, is my hand.”
“The challenge, my dear, is accepted.”
Chapter26
THEA
We arrived in Bath precisely twelve days after the wretched conversation with Benedict at the folly had taken place. The yellow stone and winding, narrow roads were calm and comforting, welcoming us into the aged Roman town. Our hotel was situated in the center of a steep hill, and I sent round a note to Mr. Robertson as soon as we found ourselves settled to inform him I was in town and would be grateful if he could arrange a meeting. I gave him my direction and hoped to hear back quickly.
Felicity was glad to be in Bath. She had always enjoyed the town, she said, and James hadn’t spent enough time here to have a strong opinion either way, but I felt the burden of being the reason we were all biding our time in this cold town all the same. Benedict disappeared almost as soon as we’d arrived, and I forbade myself from looking out the window every few minutes to see if he was to return soon. By the time night had fallen, it was clear that he had no intention of joining us for dinner.
“Should we wait for Benedict to dine?” Felicity asked, straightening her glove.
“He likely found himself caught up with old friends,” James assured her. “It would not be the first time.”
“It is a miracle he has remained with us as long as he has,” Henry chimed in. He looked at me. “He’s not left us much since returning with you. I wonder if Mother asked it of him.”
“To remain?” I asked.
Henry nodded. “She misses him a great deal when he’s away. Her worrying can become tiresome.”
We dined in a private parlor on the first floor of the hotel, a smaller room than we were used to at Chelton, but well turned out. James left us to see what sort of entertainment could be had for the week while we waited, and Henry retired near the fire with a book.
“I think James has gone to look for ways to fill our time for my benefit,” I said to Felicity while we lingered over our tea at the round table. “I know you would not appreciate attending assemblies if you could help it.”
She smiled into her cup. “No, but I do like a good musicale.”
“I can abide a night of music, so long as it is not opera.”
“We are in agreement, then.” Felicity covered a yawn with her palm. “I’m afraid traveling has made me weary.”
“Shall we go up? Henry doesn’t need us to remain here for his benefit.”
“You are perfectly welcome to leave me to my own devices,” Henry said without lifting his head from the book.
We bade him good night and slipped from the room. I leaned close to Felicity and whispered. “I did hope he would put his books down occasionally and go out with us to meet people.”
“Do not despair.” Felicity matched my whisper as we made our way into the narrow stairwell. “I think we will find a wife for him yet. It will take a little careful planning, but I’ve already decided it will not be very hard if we put our heads together.”
“Or”—I put up one finger while I shared my brilliant idea—“we merely lead him to a library at each ball and hope a lady seeking refuge enjoys books as much as he.”
Felicity shot me an unamused glance. “Let us make proper plans only, please. You will not benefit from a chaperone who employs such untoward methods.” She started up the stairs and added under her breath, “Especially not with the way James and I met. Tongues are bound to wag enough as it is.”
I couldn’t contain my smile.
The front door opened and closed with a decided bang down on the ground floor, and I looked over my shoulder, hoping it would be Benedict. I slowed my steps in case he arrived—because I was a glutton for punishment, evidently—and was rewarded by catching his eye just before I rounded the steps out of sight. He was coming up to the first floor, his hat hanging in his hands, his head bent.
I paused at the top of the staircase far above him. “I trust you already had your dinner.”
