Chapter Sixteen #2
“Hmm.” She pressed her lips together, though a smile peeked through anyway. “Only if you are deserving of it, my lord.”
He nodded in a brief salute and then turned his attention back to the path. They walked quietly for a few minutes, and the silence was far more comfortable than she would have assumed. She shifted the nest she still held, and he glanced at it.
“May I inquire as to why you risked health and limb for an abandoned nest?”
“You are prone to exaggeration, aren’t you?” she asked with a raised brow.
He shrugged. “I enjoy…accentuating my words on occasion.”
Adaline snorted softly. “You are creative, my lord, I’ll give you that.”
“And the nest?” he asked, glancing down at it again.
“It is not so interesting. I collect them, is all.”
His brow rose again. “You collect nests?”
She bristled at his tone. “It is not so odd. There are those who collect far stranger things. Sir Thomas Lanswater’s antiquities, for instance.
Or the Duke of Rutland’s exotic animal specimens.
I’ve heard he has two stuffed crocodiles and an assortment of rare skins and tusks.
A few birds’ nests are not so unusual in the face of all that. ”
“No, of course not. I did not intend to disparage your collection. I was merely curious.”
Adaline kept her gaze on the path before her, chastised and a bit embarrassed by her assumption. “My apologies,” she mumbled.
He gave her an amused half-smile. “I am beginning to think you will argue with me no matter what I say, just for the sake of arguing.”
She rolled her lips between her teeth, hating that he was likely correct. Then she let out a sigh. “I suppose I do have a tendency to assume the worst of you.”
He chuckled. “Truth be told, I tend to assume the same of you.”
Her eyes widened which only made him laugh harder.
“We are quite the pair, aren’t we?” she said.
“I propose a truce,” he said. “While I cannot promise not to argue with you—because I do find it inordinately amusing—”
She couldn’t hide her smile at that, as she felt much the same.
“I propose,” he continued, “that we at least attempt to give each other the benefit of the doubt before we jump to the worst possible conclusion.”
Her eyes narrowed as she considered it. Well, there wasn’t really anything to consider.
It was a fair proposal. Though she also enjoyed a good argument with him.
Still, in the interest of peace and their combined sanity…
“Very well. I shall endeavor to ask for clarification before I assume you are intent on mortally insulting me.”
His laughter rang out again, and Adaline caught a glance of her mother’s disapproving face.
Though she could not decipher why, exactly, she disapproved.
Whether it was due to their laughter drawing attention from others who were promenading, or because it was Lord Hugo Brelsford—a name not generally uttered with fondness in their home—with whom she was laughing, she could not say. Perhaps both.
But she couldn’t deny that his company was…diverting. Oh, she still hated him. Or, hated what he had done, at least. Yet despite all that, she couldn’t help but look forward to the next time they might meet.
Though that admission brought to mind another possible meeting. Mayhem.
A sharp pang of guilt flashed through her, though she had no cause to feel such a thing.
Mayhem was a friend. A dear friend, but one who had no place in her real life.
Unless they did finally meet. What would happen then?
Would they continue their flirtations? Would it develop into something more? Did she want it to?
A few weeks ago, she would have said a resounding yes. She still would. And yet…
Her waist still tingled from where Lord Hugo had held her.
Even now, as they walked, they occasionally stepped a little too close, allowing their shoulders to brush.
Was that intentional on his part? Was it on hers?
She had certainly made no effort to move farther away to prevent that contact, though she hadn’t realized it until just that moment.
What did that mean? What did it mean that she had Mayhem’s words constantly in her mind, yet her body seemed to be craving the touch of Lord Hugo?
Perhaps if it was only his touch she enjoyed, this would not be such a conundrum for her.
But loath as she was to admit it, she did seem to genuinely enjoy the man’s company. His wit. Even his wicked teasing.
Was she truly wicked to have her thoughts so occupied by two different men? Who, now that she thought upon it, would be the perfect man if it were somehow possible to combine them.
She let out a sigh, hoping none of her inner turmoil was visible upon her face.
She would never recover if Lord Hugo were to discover her thoughts.
Mayhem was the only one to whom she felt safe enough to confide those.
Though was that merely because of their anonymity? Would that change if they were to meet?
There was only one way to know for sure. But she did not know if she was brave enough to find out.