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He was saved from having to retort by the ladies entering the room, forcing them all to shut up about the topic. He swallowed as Miss Caroline and her mother made their way towards him, Miss Hughs following just behind.
“Excuse me, gentlemen. I will retire for the evening,” he said, ducking from the amused group and making a beeline for the door, being sure to avoid the women heading his way. Several people looked at him curiously as he sedately fled, but they could come to whatever conclusion they wished. His mind was far too jumbled to mingle, even more so under the auspices of an enchanting pair of brown eyes.
ChapterSix
Arabella inhaledthe crisp morning air as she made her way down the trail Cecily had talked about last night. She’d waited for the other woman in the foyer for quite some time, only to receive a note from her maid informing her she would be running late and to go on ahead. Deciding that it would give her some time to sketch the ruins, Arabella heeded the advice and went on her way. The sky was cloudy with a refreshing cool summer breeze, and Arabella hugged her arms around her sketchbook as she walked. After a good half hour trek, the ruins came into view. They were indeed impressive, with the stone facade of nearly an entire wall still intact along with the foundation. She stopped to admire the sight, debating on the best angle to begin her sketching. Some movement amongst the stones caught her eye, and her stomach dropped as a familiar man emerged from around a corner.
Milton.
He spotted her almost immediately and raised his hand with a hesitant wave. “We seem to have a knack for running into each other in the mornings.”
“It would appear so,” she replied, not hiding the suspicion from her voice.
“You don’t think I planned this on purpose, do you?”
Arabella clutched her sketchbook closer to her chest. “I wouldn’t put it past you.”
“It would be quite convenient, I agree. Alas, this is a mere coincidence. Lockhart is the one who invited me.” He cast an exasperated look around them. “Though he is nowhere to be found. I don’t even know why he wanted to come here so early in the first place. I’ve never seen the man up earlier than noon.”
He seemed sincere enough that she believed him. “That is odd.”
Milton shrugged. “He’s an odd fellow.” There was an awkward pause before he spoke. “Did you get my note?”
It was the first time they’d spoken since that episode at the lake, she realized, and after receiving his missive. “Yes,” she began tentatively, unsure of how to respond. “I appreciate it and the flower.”
“You seemed like a lavender kind of lady. I am glad.”
She rose an eyebrow. “A lavender kind of lady?”
“Subtle, often overlooked, but really quite lovely when one bothers to pay them any mind.”
It was a glorious, perfectly executed compliment that did its intended job. She could already feel the butterflies swarming in her belly and had to remind herself of the man’s previous duplicity in order to stay them. “You seem to have quite the interest in flowers, Your Grace.”
“Oh, not in the slightest, outside of the normal appreciation for their beauty. Kirkwood, however, would disagree, and I’ve heard many a lecture on the minutiae of one obscure bloom or other from him. I know far more than I care to, but the man gets so enthused that none of us have the heart to stop him from going on about it.”
The Marquess of Kirkwood was a known avid botanist, and many often wondered just why the quiet man was part of Milton’s rowdy set, her included. “Never?”
He shrugged. “That’s part of being a friend. Surely you do the same with your own lady friends.” When she didn’t answer, Milton tilted his head, the casual smile slipping from his face. “You have friends, yes?”
“Of course,” she replied quickly, a hot flush of embarrassment creeping up her cheeks.
But Milton seemed unconvinced, crossing his arms and raising a dark eyebrow. “Oh?”
“Yes,” she replied, putting on an unjustified air of indignation to mask her embarrassed panic. Arabella had never been the best at socializing and had struggled to form any close attachments during her debut. Once Caroline had her come-out and those rumors had begun to circulate, any slim possibility of outside companionship had faded. Her recalcitrance during that second season certainly didn’t help matters. “My sister and I are quite close, in spite of what the rumors may say and you might think. And I am here to meet Miss Balfour for a pleasant morning of assessing the ruins.”
Milton’s eyes softened on her form. “I am sorry for my words concerning your sister yesterday.”
Eager to latch on to this new topic and not dwell on her lack of friends, Arabella nodded. “Thank you, though I was willing to accept your note as an apology.”
“I am glad to clear the air. I get heated when discussion of siblings comes up, and bad blood between family members bothers me considerably enough to cloud my judgment.” There was a pain in his eyes that she’d never seen before, and she wondered if he was referring to the family tragedy. Arabella knew little of the carriage accident that had claimed the late duke and his eldest son ten years ago, only that it had damaged the wife and son left behind deeply and was the apparent cause of the duchess’ social seclusion.
“It is alright. I understand,” she replied. An awkwardness settled between them, the silence painful enough that she almost wished to return to the discussion of her friendless state. Milton’s visage grew distant, and she grasped for a way to dispel the sudden pal settling over them. She cleared her throat. “In exchange for your second apology,” she watched as his eyes lit up once more, “I have decided to believe your fanciful excuse for coming to these ruins so early in the morning and conveniently at the same time as I.”
“Drat,” he scoffed, slapping his hat on the side of this thigh. “I thought you were about to say you’d give me that waltz after all.” The smile told her he wasn’t serious . “Ah well. A lad can dream, I suppose.”
She laughed. “I’m afraid you are still unforgiven on that front, Your Grace. It’ll take a lot more than a pretty note and some kind words get me to help with that ridiculous wager.”
“I didn’t do that for the wager.” His voice was low, so low she almost didn’t hear it over the breeze whistling through the ruins. He pushed off the wall and was in front of her in three long strides, so close she could smell the faint scent of his cologne. “I did it because you are a lovely person who didn’t deserve to be offended by my stupid words.”
