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Chloe could only imagine the picture they presented. She, wearing his coat. He, undressed to his shirt sleeves with his waistcoat undone. The two of them, clinging together like burrs.
Her mother composed herself. “Why, Lord Cheverell.”
“Look away,” Chloe whispered to him, frantic. “It’s The Eyebrow.”
“The what?”
“The Eyebrow.” She shielded her face with one hand. “It makes you confess everything. Close your eyes. Save yourself.”
“It’s too late for that. I was a lost cause months ago.”
When Mama reached them, she sighed. “Chloe Anne Garland. Couldn’t you be gracious to Lord Cheverell for one evening? What mischief have you wrought on the poor man now?”
Chloe sputtered. “What? You’re blamingme?”
Her mother turned to Lord Cheverell. “I do apologize for my daughter. Mr. Garland and I tried our best with our children’s upbringing. But there were eleven of them, you know. They can’t all be successes.”
“No, it is I who must apologize,” Lord Cheverell said. “Mrs. Garland, I owe you and Mr. Garland an explanation for my behavior. Perhaps we could go inside, and—”
“Please do not trouble yourself. No explanations are necessary. Mr. Garland holds you in the highest regard, as do I. We know you’d never contrive such a scene on purpose.” She arrowed a glance at Chloe. “Really, Chloe. It’s like the land steward’s son all over again.”
“I was fourteen! And all the way in Hampshire! How do you know anything about it?”
Mama’s slender brow arched.The Eyebrow knows all.
Lord Cheverell cleared his throat. “Mrs. Garland, I must insist that—”
Gravel crunched beneath heavy wheels as his coachman brought the carriage around. A footman jumped down from the box to open the door with a flourish and bow. “At your service, my lord.”
Mama shook her head at Chloe. “See, now? He’s leaving. You’ve chased the man away.”
“I’ve not been chased anywhere,” Lord Cheverell said.
“He’s engaged this evening.” Chloe rued the words as soon as they left her lips. Not the best choice of phrasing, considering the ring still pressed in her hand.
“Is this true, Lord Cheverell? You have an engagement?”
“I’m not certain.” He gave Chloe an inscrutable look. “I truly should pay my regards to Mr. Garland before I leave.”
Mama clucked her tongue. “No, no. I will hear nothing of it.” She removed the topcoat wrapped about Chloe’s shoulders and returned it to its owner. “We bid you Happy Christmas, Lord Cheverell.”
She elbowed Chloe in the ribs.
“Yes, of course.” Chloe made an ungainly curtsy. “Happy Christmas.”
“To you, as well.” He made a solemn, if perplexed, bow.
Mama linked arms with Chloe and briskly guided her back toward the house. In a low voice, she said, “You are fortunate indeed that it was I who happened upon you just now, and not someone else. You have a father and four older brothers inside, all of them in their cups. If any of them had witnessed this, they’d be devising the world’s first hexagonal duel.”
“Mama, I did not scheme to corner Lord Cheverell, or cast my virtue at his feet, or whatever it is you think I’ve done.”
“I know you didn’t, my dear.” She squeezed Chloe’s arm. “He’s in love with you.”
Chloe’s toe caught on a clump of frozen mud. “Youknew?”
“It’s been evident for months. To me, at least.”
“You might have warned me,” Chloe said numbly. “I had no idea.”
