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“Do you play any instruments, Miss Crestwood?” the dowager asked.
“I play the piano.”
“Wonderful. My grandson loves listening to the piano, don’t you, Andrew?” She gave him a pointed look.
Why did his grandmother have to push so hard? Judging by Tabitha’s expression, she was about as pleased as he was to be there. She refused to meet his stare. If only he could speak with her for a moment and apologize for his behavior.
He’d never apologized to anyone in his entire life. Andrew didn’t even know if he’d be any good at it. Perhaps he should say something, anything, that would put Tabitha at ease.
“I do enjoy a good sonata.” He forced a smile. “Do you enjoy reading, Miss Crestwood?”
Now she looked at him. “Yes, Your Grace.”
“It is one of my favorite pastimes. I particularly enjoy the scientific journals. It’s fascinating what they are discovering now-a-days. But science, as you know, is not exact. Misinformation can be spread, false impressions given before all the information is available.”
Her eyes rounded. “What do you do if the reported facts are later found to be incorrect?”
Clever girl. She’d figured out his game already.
“I take the time to study the matter myself, and form my own opinions, once I have all the facts.”
A hint of a smile cracked Tabitha’s stoic expression. “It’s probably best not to pass judgement before one has all the facts.”
Andrew bowed to her. “I couldn’t agree more, Miss Crestwood.”
Perhaps they would have a truce now, at least until he could somehow get Tabitha alone and speak with her.
“Now, if you ladies would excuse me, I need to take Her Grace home for the night.” Andrew put his arm out, waiting for his grandmother to take it.
Thankfully, she didn’t protest. “We must speak again soon,” she said to Lady Hinley and Tabitha.
“Thank you, Your Grace,” Lady Hinley said.
Tabitha remained silent, but her stormy eyes stayed on Andrew. It took everything in him not to gather her in his arms and kiss her until she said she forgave him. Instead, he crossed the room, forcing himself not to glance back.
Once grandson and grandmother were settled in the carriage, Lady Holcombe spoke up.
“That was an interesting evening.”
“Really? How so?”
“Don’t act like I’m a fool, my boy. I was standing right there as you spoke with Miss Crestwood. What was that all about?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The woman grunted in frustration. “Fine, be mysterious. Perhaps Miss Crestwood will be more forthcoming. I wonder if she’s free for tea tomorrow?”
“Gran, leave it be. There was nothing. I was simply being polite.”
“I suppose I should be happy for that.”
They were quiet the rest of the ride home, but if Andrew knew his grandmother, the wheels in her brain were spinning up some scheme or another. He helped her up the stairs to her chambers, then gave her a kiss on the cheek.
“Good night, Gran.”
“Good night, dear.”
Sleep didn’t come to Andrew. All night, his mind replayed the kiss and the argument he’d had with Tabitha. Lord, how the woman could kiss. She’d been uncertain at first, but when her tongue had brushed over his, all sense had left him. If they hadn’t been interrupted by whomever had been in the garden, lord knows what he would have done to her. And there was so much more he wanted to explore with the lovely Tabitha Crestwood. But had he lost his chance?
