Chapter Twelve
Adaline tilted her face to the sun, welcoming its warmth on her skin.
She had spent the afternoon visiting with several would-be suitors her brother had rounded up.
They hadn’t been terrible, truth be told.
But the necessity of remaining polite and feigning interest in every word they uttered had completely exhausted her.
Her choices, after all, had been much reduced since the mystery surrounding the falling out between the Girards and the Brelsfords had made its rounds. But time had finally helped calm those rumors to a degree. There was always something new and juicy for the ton to splash about, after all.
Still, Adaline did wish she were able to choose a match that truly suited her.
Not just settle for one because she had no other choice.
And the longer she remained under her brother’s roof, the more she wished to find a good match.
She was ready for her own household and the freedom that would afford.
Oh, she’d have a husband to contend with.
But surely it would be better than being subject to her family’s rules and supervision.
Her mother likely only agreed to let her escape to Hyde Park to promenade with Lucy in a further attempt to garner suitor attention.
“It is an agreeable afternoon, is it not, Adaline?” Lucy asked, her eyes bright as she surveyed the passing crowd, ever eager for new gossip or acquaintances to enliven her day.
Adaline nodded. “Indeed. Any afternoon in which I can escape my brother’s machinations is agreeable, dear cousin.”
“Oh,” Lucy laughed, looping her arm through Adaline’s. “You are incorrigible. You know your brother is only trying to ensure you have the best future possible. Which, under the circumstances, may be rather more difficult than he’d have hoped.”
“It is his own fault. Still, his plotting has served to make me more eager for marriage, I will give him that.”
“Truly?” Lucy asked.
“Hmm,” Adaline nodded. “It is the only way I will escape him.”
Lucy laughed again. “Have some patience. Perhaps he will actually find someone whose presence you can tolerate for more than three minutes.”
Adaline arched an eyebrow, but before she could reply, her attention was caught by a burst of childish laughter from the nearby square.
Her eyes shifted, seeking its source, and came to rest on a group of children in bright jackets and bonnets, tumbling about the green with wild abandon.
At their center, laughing heartily as he lifted a small girl into the air, was a figure Adaline recognized with a jolt.
She stopped short, her gloved hand tightening on Lucy’s arm. “Good heavens. Is that—”
Lucy followed her gaze. “Why, it’s Lord Hugo.”
“Hm.” Adaline watched him for a moment, bemused. “I had not thought him so… domesticated.”
Lucy’s lips twitched with reluctant amusement. “Nor I,” she confessed.
“I was under the impression he was always to be found at a club or in some gaming hell. Not engaged in such an innocent pastime as this. Whoever would let him so near their children?”
Lucy’s eyes sparkled. “Perhaps he has reformed. Though surely the children are some relation to him. Unless he often takes it upon himself to play with random children he comes upon in the park.”
Adaline did not reply, her thoughts too tangled to unravel.
Seeing Hugo so unguarded, his dark hair askew and his coat grass-stained, was at odds with every recollection she harbored.
Though, in all fairness, the last time their paths had crossed he had come to her rescue with unexpected gallantry.
And their conversation had been surprisingly pleasant.
Still, she would be a fool to let one simple act of kindness erase the insult he had served her and her family with his irresponsible scheming.
An insult that had provided ample fodder for whispered speculation about her reputation.
She had expected never to speak civilly to Lord Hugo Brelsford again.
Yet their last meeting had changed that. And she had, mere days before, vowed to emulate Mayhem’s example and at least attempt to be more charitable toward her enemies. If she had truly meant it…here was her chance.
Lord Hugo, her greatest enemy, stood there before her, his laughter ringing through the air as he spun a child around.
Most men of her acquaintance couldn’t be bothered with children.
Her own father, though she knew he loved her, would never have engaged in such activity.
But there Hugo was, by all appearances genuinely enjoying himself.
Adaline could not help but stare, her curiosity piqued against her will.
As if sensing her attention, Hugo glanced up. His brown eyes widened in surprise. A moment later, the wooden hoop the children had been rolling escaped them and rolled across the grass, coming to rest at Adaline’s feet.
“Send it back, miss! Send it back!” called a little boy, breathless with excitement.
Adaline retrieved the hoop and sent it rolling back toward the children with a graceful flick of her wrist. The children shrieked with glee, and she couldn’t help but laugh in return. Especially when they rolled it right back to her, trying to entice her into their game.
Her smile faded as Lord Hugo—after being goaded in the back with his grandmother’s walking stick—approached, a hesitant smile on his lips, his coat askew and an errant blade of grass caught in his hair.
For a moment, they both hesitated, awkward under the weight of their past grievances.
Still, their recent civility—and Mayhem’s words—kept Adaline from running off.
Lord Hugo bowed, his manner impeccably polite despite his dishevelment. “Miss Girard, Mrs. Harrow. What a wonderful surprise.”
Lucy inclined her head, but Adaline regarded him with narrowed eyes. “A surprise indeed, my lord. I confess I did not think to find you enjoying such domestic amusements. I had thought you reserved your energies for more, shall we say, adult pursuits.”
Lord Hugo’s lips curved in a rueful smile. “And why should children have all the fun? Besides, I am at the mercy of my family this morning.” He nodded toward the cluster behind him. “My sisters’ broods. They are relentless.”
Adaline’s eyes danced. “You, at anyone’s mercy? That is a sight I had not thought to see. Do they know you are the devil incarnate?”
That drew a laugh out of him. “That is a closely guarded secret. Known only by the two of us.”
“Oh,” she scoffed, “I’m certain more people are aware of your devious nature.”
His eyes flashed with amusement. “I’m touched by your concern for my family, considering the last time our families crossed paths there was almost a duel. With me on the wrong end of the pistol.”
“True. But the fault for that lays firmly at your feet.”
“To my everlasting shame,” he said. His words were accompanied by a gentle smile. But there was something about his eyes, something in his demeanor and countenance that conveyed his sincerity. He seemed…genuinely remorseful.
Adaline swallowed hard past the sudden lump in her throat. She hadn’t expected remorse from him. Hadn’t expected kindness. Friendliness. Even jolliness. It seemed he did nothing but surprise her each time they crossed paths, and she wasn’t quite sure how to react.
Then he reached out to take the hoop from her, surprising Adaline again with the jolt of awareness that tingled through her when their hands brushed.
“You may add it to your repertoire of sordid tales of me, Miss Girard. Though I did hope after our last encounter I had earned myself a little kindness.”
She arched her brow, feigning innocence. “I am always kindness itself, my lord. It is not my fault if you so often provide the ton with fodder for the gossip mills.”
Lucy stifled a laugh, and Lord Hugo’s eyes sparkled with something perilously close to genuine amusement. “And here I thought myself safely dull these days. Shall I endeavor to scandalize you further, or may I hope for your approval at last?”
“Approval is a high bar, my lord. I am not so easily impressed by feats of athleticism with a child’s toy.”
“Then I must try harder. Next time, perhaps, I shall juggle three at once.”
Adaline’s lips twitched as she fought a smile. “I dare you to try, my lord.”
He inclined his head, mock-serious in his reply. “A challenge I cannot refuse. Prepare yourself for astonishment, Miss Girard.”
Lucy, delighted by their repartee, clapped her hands. “I do believe you have met your match, Adaline.”
Lord Hugo glanced at Lucy with a conspiratorial wink. “Your cousin’s wit is famous, Mrs. Harrow. I live in hope she will one day use it for my benefit rather than my undoing.”
Adaline’s cheeks flushed, but she held his gaze. “Be careful what you wish for, Lord Hugo.”
Before he could reply, the children, impatient with the delay in their game, clamored at Lord Hugo’s side. “Uncle Hugo! The hoop! You promised to play!”
He turned with a sigh of mock resignation. “Familial duty beckons. If you will excuse me,” he said with a gallant bow.
“Of course.” Adaline bowed her head in return. “Meeting you today was… surprisingly not dreadful.”
His laughter rang out. “I share your sentiments completely, Miss Girard.” He bowed his head again to her and then to Lucy. “Mrs. Harrow.”
Then, with one last parting glance at Adaline, a look more thoughtful than teasing, he rejoined his charges, the children enveloping him with shouts of glee. In moments, he was lost to the laughter and chaos of little hands tugging him back into their game.
Lucy and Adaline stood in silence, watching them for a moment. Lucy was the first to break the quiet. “That was not at all what I expected of Lord Hugo. He seemed almost… likable.”
Adaline harumphed. “Unexpected indeed,” Adaline replied, her tone softer than she intended. “Even more unexpected that I might have actually enjoyed his company. For a second time.”
Lucy grinned. “He has changed, I think. Or perhaps you have. It is difficult to hold on to old resentments when the subject engages in chivalrous rescues and plays at hoops and sticks with children.”
“Hmm,” Adaline muttered, not wishing to voice her agreement out loud. Though Lucy was correct. It was becoming more difficult to hold onto the anger that used to burn in her chest whenever the name of Lord Hugo Brelsford was mentioned.
They resumed their walk, but Adaline found herself glancing back, watching Hugo as he darted past a tree, a little girl shrieking with delight as he scooped her into the air.
The image unsettled her. It was so at odds with the irresponsible villain she had always thought him.
Memories of their last meeting plagued her.
The initial tension, the cautious words, followed by the realization that perhaps she did not know him at all. Nor he, her.
“Do you suppose people can truly change, Lucy?” Adaline asked quietly as they moved away from the green, the sunshine casting long shadows at their feet.
“I suppose they can surprise us,” Lucy replied. “Perhaps you and Lord Hugo are not so very different after all.”
“Who are you not so different than?” Henry asked, sauntering to a stop beside them. He’d been visiting with his tailor.
“Me,” Lucy said, looping her arm through Adaline’s with a smile. “We are very much alike.”
Henry raised his brows. “Yes, we are all aware,” he said drolly. “Was that Brelsford I saw you speaking with?” he asked, his forehead creasing in a frown. “I specifically told you to keep your distance from that man. He has caused this family enough trouble.”
Adaline let out a sigh. “We only spoke for a moment, Henry. He was quite civil.”
“I do not like it,” he blustered. “He cannot be trusted. I have told you—”
“Yes, yes, do not worry so, Henry.”
He continued to grumble but thankfully moved on to other topics. Namely what eligible gentleman he thought he might be able to entice to call upon her.
Adaline pursed her lips, trying to ignore him.
Instead, despite her assurances to her brother, her thoughts lingered on Hugo’s laughter and the warmth in his eyes.
A warmth she had not expected to ever find there.
For the first time since Hugo had set their feud in motion, Adaline wondered if she had been too hasty in her judgments.
The morning’s encounter had left her oddly unsettled. And, strangely, a little bit hopeful.
As they turned down a quieter lane, the sounds of children’s laughter fading behind them, Adaline realized she was already looking forward to the next time her and Hugo’s paths might cross. Mayhem would be so proud.
Adaline nearly stumbled at the sudden awareness that she was anticipating her next encounter with Lord Hugo nearly as much as she did her next letter from Mayhem.
When had that happened? And what did it mean?
She wasn’t sure she was ready to find out.