Chapter Sixteen
Adaline’s mind continued to spin, though it had been several days since she had received Mayhem’s last letter.
Did she ever think about meeting him? Of course she did.
She thought of little else. Even when she closed her eyes at night—especially then—she thought of it.
Her dreams ranged from wonderful—moments filled with laughter and passion—to nightmarish.
Where he’d spend mere seconds in her presence and run screaming from the room.
Or worse, looked right through her. Find her too unworthy to spend any more time or attention on.
Decide that she was nothing like he thought, that the real her was too much to deal with and turned his back on her.
She could handle the first scenario. It wouldn’t be fun to have him run screaming. But it would be preferable to his apathy. Though neither scenario would be her choice.
And then, what if everything was wonderful? What if he was exactly as she hoped? The man in his letters, come to life? That was almost more terrifying than him running.
“Do try not to look so glum, my dear,” her mother said. “It is a beautiful day to promenade, and we are here to be seen. Your sour expression will not put any lingering rumors to rest.”
“Yes, Mother,” she murmured, too soul-weary to argue.
Her mother glanced at her with surprise, then gave her a gentle smile. “Why don’t you go for a short walk. I think I spotted a bird’s nest just over there.”
That did perk Adaline up. She had a small collection of birds’ nests she kept in a cabinet in the library. Her mother, who collected bird figurines, often pointed out nests to her. It was one of the few things they shared. Adaline smiled, grateful to have something with which to occupy her mind.
The nest wasn’t too far from the ground, but just far enough she couldn’t quite reach it. She certainly didn’t want to take it if it was still occupied. She reached up on the tips of her toes as far as she could, but she needed another few inches.
She dropped back to her feet with a sigh and blew an errant curl from her eyes.
“Do you need any assistance?”
Adaline sucked in a yip of a breath and slapped her hand over her mouth, twisting to find Lord Hugo Brelsford leaning against the tree.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded, cringing at how irritable her voice sounded.
Hugo raised a brow. “I am out taking the air, enjoying a sunny afternoon, chatting with acquaintances…the typical things one does in the park. I think the more interesting question is what are you doing?”
She scowled at him. “It is not so interesting. I was merely trying to see into the bird’s nest.”
“Ah.” He stretched to his full height and glanced into the nest. “It’s empty aside from a few bits of shell.”
“There is still shell inside?” she asked, forgetting to show her disdain for him in her excitement.
“Yes. Would you like me to retrieve it for you?”
“I…” Asking for his help was a step more than she was willing to take just yet. “No, thank you. I can manage.”
He raised that brow of his again. “You do not have to decline just because it is I who offers.”
“That isn’t why I declined,” she said, though they both knew it absolutely was.
“Well, then…” He moved aside with a little bow and a gesture of his hands. “Please do not let me get in your way.”
She gave him a strained smile and moved back beneath the nest, cursing herself for her damned pride.
She had no idea how she was going to get the nest. Perhaps if she got a stick and poked it from beneath, though that risked damaging it.
Were she younger, and not in full view of half of London, she would hike up her skirts and climb the tree.
Well, she couldn’t quite do that. But perhaps she could use the trunk for enough leverage to gain those last few inches she needed.
Adaline gathered her skirts in one hand, lifting them just enough to keep her feet clear, and then placed one foot on the trunk of the tree, trying very hard to ignore Lord Hugo standing there with his arms crossed and his lips already twitching with amusement.
She pushed off with her foot, reaching up as high as she could. Her hand did make contact with the nest. But she neglected to take into account how she would land once she’d pushed off from the tree. Her feet hit the ground harder than she anticipated, and down she went.
There were gasps from several onlookers, a few muffled giggles from a few more. And even worse, the smiling face of Lord Hugo as he squatted beside her, holding her bird’s nest.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, his eyes still shining with merriment. She wondered if he would still look like that if it hadn’t been apparent she was unharmed.
“Aside from my pride, no,” she muttered.
He chuckled and helped her to stand, taking one of her hands in his and wrapping the other about her waist to haul her off the ground.
The feel of his arm wrapped around her, his hand holding tight to hers, stole her breath more than the impact of hitting the hard ground had.
He kept his arm around her, even after she had regained her feet.
Not for more than an extra heartbeat, perhaps two.
But long enough for her to glance up and meet his gaze, see the surprised expression in his own eyes that suggested he was also feeling this strange, exhilarating warmth spreading through him at their closeness, at the feel of his hands on her, even through the layers of their gloves and clothing.
What sort of sorcery was this? Her heart sped, her pulse pounding. And still he did not let her go, nor did he pull his gaze from hers.
“Adaline!” her mother called, her voice faint though getting closer.
Adaline took a step back, resisting the impulse to bat his hands away. That would have been churlish, especially in full sight of their onlookers. And besides, whether she liked to admit it or not, she enjoyed his touch. Er…needed his help.
“Thank you,” she mumbled, taking another step back. She brushed off her skirts and patted at her hair, trying to make sure everything was where it should be.
“Your nest, my lady,” Hugo said, holding it out with a flourish.
She took it from him, eyes squinted in suspicion. “Why are you behaving so…”
“Gentlemanly?” he supplied.
“Yes.”
He grinned again. “Well, I am a gentleman, after all.”
Her eyes narrowed. “By birth, not by manner. At least, not in regard to me. In general.”
“Ah, yes.” He shrugged a shoulder. “Well…perhaps I have simply grown weary of our war. Haven’t you?”
She snorted softly. “No.”
His chuckle threatened to draw an answering smile from her lips, and she rolled them between her teeth to keep it under control.
“I suppose it is amusing,” he responded. “But it is far too nice a day for battle.”
Adaline let out a sigh. It did consume far more energy to stoke her waning hate for him than she anticipated. It was growing tiresome.
“Adaline, my goodness, are you all right?” her mother said, hurrying to her side.
“Yes, Mother, I am fine. I simply misjudged the height of the nest. Lord Hugo assisted me.”
Her mother glanced at Hugo, her lips pinched. But she deigned to give him a tight nod. “Thank you, Lord Hugo. We are…in your debt.”
“Not at all,” he insisted, his words crisp. His entire body seemed to tense, his easygoing manner evaporating under her mother’s glare. But then he turned back to her, his gaze softening. “Though perhaps Miss Girard would do me the honor of accompanying me on a walk?”
She stared at him, completely nonplussed. “I…”
“What an excellent idea,” another voice said, and Adaline turned to see the Dowager Duchess Catherine, Hugo’s grandmother, beaming at them. “I love to see the young people out promenading, don’t you?” she said to Adaline’s mother.
“I…yes, of course,” Mrs. Girard said, not daring to refute the dowager duchess.
“You two go along. I’ll keep your mother company,” she said to Adaline. “We’ll be just behind you.”
Her mother looked as though she’d swallowed a lemon, but she gave Adaline a tight smile and nod.
Adaline and Hugo glanced at each for a moment and then turned to begin their walk along the garden path, both at a loss for words or argument.
“She is formidable, isn’t she?” Adaline finally said, and Hugo chuckled.
“My grandmother? That is an understatement,” he said with another laugh. “She once bullied the queen into giving up one of her prized pineapples so she could display it at my cousin’s wedding. And the queen not only agreed, but thought it was her idea from the start.”
Adaline laughed, and Hugo shook his head. “Father likes to say that if the Duke of Wellington had sent Grandmother to Waterloo, not only would Napoleon have surrendered but he would have done so with a smile on his face, thanking my grandmother for the opportunity.”
Adaline snorted softly. “Hmm, is she who I have to thank for our dance the other evening?”
Hugo glanced at her in surprise, and she lifted a shoulder in a shrug.
“She not only orchestrated this walk but seems to be entertaining my mother as well,” she said with a subtle nod behind them.
“A miraculous accomplishment under the best of circumstances, even more so with matters as they stand between our families. It stands to reason.”
“What does? That the only reason I’d ask you to dance is if my grandmother was responsible?”
She raised her brows. “Am I mistaken?”
His sheepish grin brought an answering smile to her lips. “I did not say that,” he admitted. “But I do protest that you think it is the only reason I would ever ask you to dance.”
“You may protest all you’d like. I shan’t believe you.”
His jaw dropped with exaggerated shock. “You wound me, madam.”
“Do I?” She looked up at him, delighted. “Is it fatal?”
His booming laugh drew glances from several startled onlookers, including her mother. Duchess Catherine merely beamed in grandmotherly approval.
Hugo shook his head. “You are ruthless, Miss Girard. Truly ruthless.”