Chapter 24
The next day passed more quickly than usual, likely on account of my nerves.
It had been merely a stroke of luck that my plans coincided with Mrs. Ford’s half day, but I was exceedingly grateful for it, as I highly doubted I could have found a way to convince the woman to leave otherwise.
As usual, she left me a cold supper in the icebox and was out of the house by one.
When I first made my plans with Lord Linden, I had arranged for Tommy to spend the evening with his cousins, and this proceeded accordingly.
However, I had failed to account for Dolly’s litany of questions when I dropped Tommy off in the late afternoon.
I did my best to pretend to be excited at the prospect of spending the evening with a handsome and eligible bachelor, but quickly grew tired of fielding Dolly’s veiled insinuations that wedding bells would shortly follow and made my excuses.
Luckily, she was all too understanding when I claimed I needed ample time to prepare myself, and shooed me out the door.
When I finally returned to my aunt’s empty home, it was close to five o’clock.
For one very brief moment, I wished I had told Mr. Dorian to come earlier, but then quickly dismissed the thought and set about readying myself for a presumed evening on the town.
I took more care with my toilet than usual, because the occasion seemed to call for it and I didn’t want to do anything that might cause the baron to be suspicious.
As I sat at my aunt’s grand vanity applying a touch of kohl to my eyes, I was reminded of the evening last spring when Cleo had insisted on helping me prepare for a small party welcoming Mr. Dorian to the neighborhood.
That was also the first night we were properly introduced, though we had seen each other briefly from a distance a few days earlier.
Unfortunately, just after I arrived at my neighbor’s home, I overheard Mr. Dorian make a rather unkind remark about my appearance to the host. While he later apologized, it struck me now that a part of me had never really let go of that disastrous encounter.
And I was still letting it color all of our interactions.
I sat back in the chair and admired my reflection in the three-paned mirror.
Perhaps, then, it was time for us to have a proper fresh start.
I donned my sapphire gown and checked my hair one last time before I headed downstairs.
My stomach still jangled with nerves as I waited in the parlor, and I picked up a bit of embroidery just to keep my hands occupied.
I was strongly considering pouring a drink from my aunt’s well-stocked bar cart when there was a knock at the front door.
The clock on the mantel showed that it was exactly seven o’clock.
I rose from my chair and rushed over to open the door.
Mr. Dorian was on the front step, looking nearly as anxious as I felt.
Given that the man was usually cavalier to a fault, this was not particularly comforting.
“Is my brother here?” he asked sharply as he entered.
“No, not yet,” I replied and showed him into the parlor. Mr. Dorian let out an aggravated sigh, then turned to me. His dark gaze skimmed over my figure.
“You look lovely,” he murmured.
“Just trying to look the part,” I said, as I felt a blush coming on. Then I returned to my chair and gestured to the sofa across from me, but Mr. Dorian shook his head.
“I can’t sit,” he said, as he began to pace the room.
Then he stopped before the hearth and braced a hand on the mantel, staring down into the fire.
I allowed my gaze to linger on his profile, which was illuminated by the flickering flames to great effect.
Then, suddenly, he turned to me, and our eyes met.
Something bolted through me, and I came to my feet.
“Would you care for something to drink?” I asked in an attempt to distract him, but he shook his head.
“I need to be clearheaded for this.”
“You’re starting to make me even more nervous,” I grumbled.
Mr. Dorian stopped in his tracks and shot me a look. “Then we should call this off. Just say the word. You don’t need to do this.”
“No.” I shook my head. “Everything has already been arranged, and we may not get another chance.”
Mr. Dorian frowned and approached me. “Perhaps now isn’t the best time, but I did want to mention that I know this must be very difficult for you. And for what it is worth, I hope I am wrong about Oliver.”
I stared at him for a moment as my mouth went dry. “Thank you,” I rasped. “I appreciate that.”
He took another step. Then another. “And I am sorry about the way things ended on Corfu. I … I shouldn’t have left the way I did.”
I swallowed my surprise. “I understand. But I wasn’t very kind to you, either. I said some things I regret.”
He nodded, keeping his gaze on me. “Is that why you came to the villa the next morning?”
My eyes widened. “How did you know that?”
His mouth curved in the slightest hint of a smile. “When Mr. Howard visited Corfu over the summer, Mrs. Nasso couldn’t wait to tell him all about the two of us.”
I felt a little prickle of betrayal that the housekeeper would have told anyone about my mad dash to speak to Mr. Dorian, and the crushing disappointment I had felt when I learned he had already left.
“Oh. Well. I can’t imagine why,” I insisted with false bravado.
Mr. Dorian wasn’t the least bit fooled. He watched me in silence for a few moments.
“Can’t you?” he murmured as he moved even closer.
The tips of his freshly polished shoes kissed the hem of my gown, and I fought against the instinct to step back.
The blood roared in my ears, but it still wasn’t loud enough to drown out my thundering heartbeat.
“Then, the dedication in your book …” I couldn’t make myself finish the sentence.
His smile grew a little more. “In my defense, I never expected you to read it.”
I let out a laugh. “I didn’t. Cleo showed it to me.”
“Ah. I see,” he said with a self-effacing grin.
“Well, I had already read it more than once,” I pointed out, unable to keep from smiling back.
“Fair enough. No need to torture yourself any more,” he quipped.
My smile faded. “You know how talented you are.”
He ducked his head and swallowed. Then he looked back at me, his expression now serious. “I don’t think you understand the inadequacy I feel when I am in your presence.”
I frowned and slowly shook my head. “Whyever would you?”
“Because,” he began. “Minnie, I—”
But before Mr. Dorian could continue, there was a loud knock at the front door that startled us both. “That must be your brother,” I said as I stepped away, pressing a hand to my heated cheek.
Mr. Dorian was still watching me with that sharp gaze of his, but he seemed to acknowledge that the moment was over. At least for now. “It’s about damn time,” he grumbled.
“I’ll get it.”
“Wait.” Mr. Dorian grabbed my arm just as I moved by him. He then crept over to the picture window and gently pulled aside the velvet drape. He let out a muttered curse. “It’s Linden.”
“But he’s early,” I insisted, as if that would change anything.
Mr. Dorian raised an eyebrow. “Only by a little bit. And if my blasted brother wasn’t late, it wouldn’t matter.”
I began to wring my hands, unable to mask my nerves any longer. “What should we do?”
Mr. Dorian grimaced. “We stick to the plan for now and hope Miles shows up very soon. Do you think you can stall him?”
“I can try,” I said, sounding uncertain.
“I’ll make myself scarce and keep an ear out for my brother,” Mr. Dorian said as he headed towards the door that connected to the dining room. Then he paused and turned back to me. “If you can’t, there’s no harm in letting this go. Tell him you have a headache.”
I gritted my jaw. I had no intention of letting the baron leave without answering at least some questions, but I simply nodded. “All right.”
Mr. Dorian held my gaze. “Just … be careful.” Then he turned and left the room. I took a deep breath and headed for the door. It was time for the performance to begin.
Lord Linden had been understandably surprised when I answered the door, but did his best to hide it as I showed him into the parlor.
“Would you like a drink?” I asked, attempting to sound blasé and failing miserably.
His mouth curved in amusement. “A whisky, if you have it.”
“Of course.” Then I made my way over to the bar, relieved that I had something to do. I measured and poured the drink, then handed it to the baron. As he took it, his fingers grazed mine.
“You’re shaking, Mrs. Harper,” he said with a smile.
I certainly was, but not for the reason he was thinking.
It made for a good cover, though, so I decided to lean into his impression.
I bowed my head shyly and moved to sit on the sofa, which provided a clear view of the door, behind which Mr. Dorian was currently standing.
Just the thought of him calmed me a bit.
I gestured to the chair in front of me and turned to the baron.
“Please, sit.”
He obeyed and crossed his long legs. “You are all alone here, then?”
The question, along with the look he gave me, took me by surprise. “Uh, yes. I am. My aunt doesn’t keep a large staff since she travels so much, and tonight is the housekeeper’s half day,” I explained.
“And your son?”
“He is spending the night at my brother’s house.”
Lord Linden smiled again, but there was a gleam in his eye that rather reminded me of a lion. “I don’t know very many women who could survive an evening without their lady’s maid at their beck and call, let alone a full staff. Yet here you are.”
I managed a chuckle despite my nerves. “Well, I’ve never had a lady’s maid, my lord. The closest I came to that was when I still lived at home and my mother deigned to let her maid fix my hair.” And even that had been more trouble than it was worth. “Perhaps you need to expand your circle.”