Chapter 13 #2
“No.” Aylesbury thought that might be all the response he would be given until Fiona relented with a sigh.
“I was being fitted for a new golfing suit. The ladies’ association has relaxed the rules on skirt length.
Hems can be higher and the cut narrower for better motion in the swing.
” Snapping her jaw shut, she glanced up at him from beneath the brim of her—now that he noticed—decidedly feminine hat of the same ivory silk and that black gauze gathered about the brim.
She said nothing until his eyes left the hat to meet hers, though she looked away just as he did.
“I thought I told you to leave me alone. Please stop smiling at me, my lord. You’re looking far too pleased with yourself. ”
“Why shouldn’t I? It’s a fine day.”
“It is rather dreary, really and will most likely rain,” she countered with a more honest observation of the weather.
“Perhaps then I am merely smiling at the sight of you,” he answered. “Smiles have been a rare thing for me of late. I enjoy them when I can.”
Fiona glanced up at him again and realized that he seemed happier recently than when she first came to London, though she doubted she had anything to do with it despite his words.
The bracketed lines she noticed around his mouth at the Onslow ball had softened some.
His lips relaxed, though the corner of his mouth jerked up a bit in amusement.
He looked more like the carefree marquis she’d once known.
That smile was just as devastating as it had ever been.
It wouldn’t do at all to follow the same path she had once before and fall victim to its power once again.
“What do you want, my lord?”
“You’re out shopping alone, Lady Fiona. Shouldn’t I offer my company and protection?” he queried smoothly.
“Is yours any better than that of those you think you are protecting me against?” she shot back. “Besides, I’m not alone. I have my maid with me.”
Fiona gestured with her parasol down the street where her maid was still flirting madly. “It seems that Glynna is far more taken by the sights in London than I. But that is not what propelled you from the haberdashers to my side. What do you want, my lord?”
Nothing was ever easy with her. Still, he couldn’t find it in himself to mind. “Nothing more than to see you. I couldn’t help myself when I saw you here.”
Halting in the middle of the walk, she swung the parasol before catching it in her gloved hand. Gloves of ivory leather with a corded and scalloped edge. Aylesbury studied them curiously until she spoke.
“That’s a fine piece of flummery if I’ve ever heard one. Couldn’t help yourself? Ha! You needn’t worry, Lord Aylesbury. I meant what I said.”
“You’ve said quite a lot recently. Would you care to clarify?”
“That you needn’t fear that seeing you again will evoke any of the besotted antics I besieged you with before,” Fiona said, searching for her maid once again, though the girl had managed to disappear.
“In fact, seeing you again has been rather therapeutic, really. I’m all but purged of your charms,” she lied blithely.
“While my experience is quite to the contrary,” he admitted. “Seeing you again has been a kick in the gut.”
“Nauseating and uncomfortable? How complimentary,” Fiona replied sardonically. “I can see now why you’ve been hanging about. The appeal of such a thrill must be undeniable.”
The laughter that bubbled within him could not be denied, and Aylesbury laughed aloud at her dry humor. That satirical wit had been one of the first things he adored about her. Tucking her free hand into the crook of his arm, he propelled Fiona into a more intimate stroll down the cobbled walk.
“Let me amend that. Seeing you again has been a disconcerting reminder of what I left behind these past few years. My life halted when I left Edinburgh.”
“I doubt I had anything to do with it.”
“Not solely, but more than you might think. For too long, I’ve had nothing to look forward to, nothing to live for,” he admitted. “I want to move on and live again, Fiona. And I want to do that wi–”
His head turned, Aylesbury’s gaze riveted not on Fiona any longer but farther beyond, over her shoulder. As his face grew taut, she turned curiously to follow his gaze but could see only others shopping the bustling Regent Street shops.
“I must go.”
Just like that, he was gone, running—yes, running—with unlordly haste across the busy street, dodging one carriage after another and nearly becoming trampled beneath the hooves of a spirited high-stepper before reaching the other side.
He disappeared briefly, then appeared again, catching the arm of a modestly dressed woman. His handsome features lit up with an expression of high anticipation.
One wouldn’t have thought a man might apologize for something only to repeat the same offense at their next meeting.
Feelings stung, Fiona turned away and looked about for Glynna without success.
With a sigh, she headed west, hoping to spot her maid or carriage along the way.
The sunshine was gone from her day, taking with it the antagonism that had served as her defense to the charm Aylesbury still managed to wield so compellingly.
He looked handsome today in a well-tailored grey morning suit that accentuated his broad shoulders.
The jeweled chain of his watch fob draped across the front of his blue and grey pencil-striped waistcoat, highlighting his flat stomach, which, on so many, would exaggerate even the slightest paunch.
The blue brought out the color of his eyes, making them shine even on such a bleak day.
And that smile! So hard to brace herself against the power it held over her.
Almost as much as his kiss. Fiona nearly stumbled at the invasion of the memory she had tried so hard to put aside.
What a failure that effort had been, for she could hardly stop replaying it in her mind!
Every brush of his lips, each caress of his fingertips, a painful salute to years past.
She was more a fool than she had thought.
“Damn.”