Chapter Nineteen #2
Lord Worthing’s face was suddenly stone-cold and devoid of the emotion she had seen moments ago.
He nodded and stepped back from her, placing his arms behind his back.
‘Such an apology wasn’t needed, Miss Granger, but nevertheless, I accept.
I apologise for kissing you back. And for taking such liberties just now by touching you.
When you arrived alone, I thought…’ He shook his head.
‘It does not matter what I thought, I should not have made such assumptions. I was not being a gentleman.’
A muscle worked in his jaw and there was a tightness in his features.
‘So, we can return to our previous working relationship?’ she asked cautiously.
He paused, studied her and then replied, ‘Yes.’ It was one single word that sounded like a death knell. She let it echo through her and shook off the disappointment. Had she secretly longed for him to fight for her or challenge her?
Yes.
It echoed his own answer of but a moment ago.
She swallowed and pulled back her shoulders.
But now she knew he did not hold the same depth of interest in her as she did him.
Perhaps his attraction to her was merely physical.
Now she could move forward with Lord Phoenix, and Lord Worthing could move forward with Miss Grey.
It was what she had hoped he would say, was it not? Her stomach knotted. So, why did she feel so terrible? She cast aside the answer and adopted her best smile.
‘Then, let us begin by looking over the upcoming calendar.’ She opened the calendar and spread it across the space remaining on the table between them that held their refreshments. ‘Do you have your own to update?’
He nodded, picked up his calendar and opened it beside hers.
He reached across her to gather items to keep the rolled parchments from unfurling once spread out on the table, and the whisper of his body close to hers and the slight brush of the back of his hand against her own made her body ache.
He appeared completely unaffected, however, and so she hastily smothered her reaction.
Get a hold of yourself.
Once he had both the calendars open with the ink pot and quill resting between them, she began to explain the corrections, additions and deletions she’d made to her copy and why, and they were added to his own calendar.
Getting back to the business at hand settled her somewhat.
This was where she was most comfortable: strategising.
By the time she had finished her explanation, she felt better and more anchored.
‘And you believe Miss Grey to be my best match?’ he asked, facing her. He was so close. He could touch her again if he wanted and she him, but that moment had passed. His gaze drifted down to her mouth again.
Her stomach dropped. ‘Yes,’ she said, her voice faltering briefly. ‘Yes, I believe she is.’
Liar.
She clutched the edge of the desk. He just stared at her, his eyes searching for something within her own.
When she added nothing else, he nodded. ‘Well then,’ he said clearing his throat and stepping back from her. ‘I am glad to see we are almost at a conclusion to our arrangement.’
Wait? What?
‘I am sorry. I do not understand, my lord.’
‘What is there not to understand?’ he said coolly.
He shook a bit of sand over the calendars to help the ink set.
‘I have a few remaining dates on the calendar for outings with Miss Grey, and then I shall propose to her and carry on with my life. If those outings go well and she accepts my proposal, you will have succeeded in your allotted task.’
Then, why did she suddenly feel so ill?
This was what she wanted. She wanted and needed him to be successful in finding a bride. It would set her business ablaze when word got out about her securing a match for the renowned Beast of Barnett House.
He shook off the excess sand, rolled up her parchment and left his calendar open on the desk.
‘You no longer need my assistance for our lessons?’ she asked.
He shrugged. ‘Not really,’ he replied. ‘Miss Grey knows my intentions, knows about us working together, and if she found it unseemly, I believe she would have said as much last night, would she not?’
‘She would have,’ she agreed.
‘Then why do you seem so confused?’ He stepped closer. ‘Is it because of our…kiss?’ he asked in lowered tones.
She wanted to scream yes, but lied again. ‘No,’ she replied.
‘Do you worry Dolph will be upset about our “accident”, as it were?’ he asked stepping even closer.
Her heart picked up speed, and she found herself leaning closer into the heat emanating from him. She glanced at his lips and then met his darkened gaze. ‘I told him about it. He was not upset, which surprised me.’
‘Not me. Dolph is not a jealous man. Despite his charm, he is logical and will hold no grudge. He also knows he is well on his way to winning your affections. Even I can see that.’ There was an edge of bitterness to his voice she did not understand.
He didn’t want her for himself, at least not for anything beyond physical attraction, otherwise he would have just said so.
And, she couldn’t have him without ruining her business. What more was there to say?
He turned away and settled in behind his desk, creating a physical barrier between them.
She stood like a dolt without a word.
‘Then, it is settled,’ he added, lifting a letter from his desk and cracking the seal open with force. ‘I will see you and Dolph at Diana’s wedding next weekend. Good day, Miss Granger.’
He busied himself at his desk and didn’t meet her gaze again.
Tears threatened, but she blinked them back. ‘Good day, my lord,’ she said and left the room, hurrying from the parlour.
She gathered her cloak and gloves from Yates, and took her leave, and once inside William’s carriage, Ophelia did the unexpected. Instead of feeling joyful over being well on her way to finding a successful match for her first client, she broke down and sobbed.
Trudy pulled her close. ‘What has happened?’
‘Not now. Please, Trudy.’
Trudy said nothing and handed her a handkerchief.
Ophelia hadn’t realised how much she did indeed care for Lucas. The man she didn’t dare love at all.