Chapter 11 #2
Sylvie had learned a few tricks over her years in high society, so she summoned anything she could to aid her cause.
Stepping closer to Miles, she rested her fingers on his forearm and softened her expression along with her tone.
“I need help, Miles. There are places I can’t go and people I can’t spend time watching or talking to.
With both of us working on it, we’re sure to be able to cover more ground.
As my friend for the summer, will you help me uncover the identity of my admirer? ”
Sylvie smelled like lilacs in the spring.
Miles was used to paying attention to details, but not to being so wholly distracted by them.
He could usually set aside anything else and focus on a task at hand with absolute clarity.
But the sensations that assaulted him when Sylvie put her hand on his arm and stepped close enough for her dark skirt to crush up against his leg clouded his mind in an instant.
Tendrils of her blond locks had come loose and formed a lovely crown around her head.
His better judgment was clearly impaired because he found himself nodding quite by accident.
“If it will keep you from lurking in the dark, I’ll help you. ”
The moment the words left his mouth, Miles cringed. He was writing the letters. How could he pretend to help her without revealing himself before he was ready?
It was the infernal way her eyes sparkled when she spoke of the possibility of falling in love with the man who wrote those letters on her own terms. Miles wanted nothing more than to be that man. And he wanted to help her discover it was him, as convoluted as that might be.
As he tried to reconcile what he’d agreed to with what he wanted, Sylvie grinned, the sight of it charming him beyond his ability to resist. “Oh, thank you, Miles! It will be fun, you’ll see.
We’ll be like Sherlock Holmes and Watson.
You should consider getting a bowler to wear, and I’ll find an Inverness cape. ”
Still distracted by the fact that if he swayed an inch to the side, Sylvie would be pressed up against him, Miles absently shook his head. “As long as you don’t take up a pipe. Your mother would never forgive me.”
Her laughter pealed through the stillness of the evening like a church bell tolling happy tidings. A wedding, perhaps. Or the birth of a new royal baby, causing celebration to arise throughout Great Britain. Miles was captivated by it. What could he do to make her laugh again?
But then he was once more flustered by her movements as she danced a bit in place, her fingers fluttering as if she itched to write down her schemes.
“We’ll need to make a list of suspects. There are quite a few we can rule out from the start.
Married men or engaged men, of course. If it’s one of them, I don’t want to know, anyway.
I can list several with absolute certainty who haven’t the capacity to write such lovely words. They simply can’t be my admirer.”
Sylvie chewed on her lower lip while thinking. Then she perked up and looked straight at Miles again. “Oh! You ought to read the two letters I’ve received so far. So you’ll know what kind of man we’re looking for.”
“Ah…no, I don’t think that’s necessary.” Miles’s heart dropped like an anchor in the depths of the ocean.
The last thing he wanted was to read his own heartfelt words in front of her.
For a man who wouldn’t claim to be a talented actor, he’d gotten himself into too many situations that required playing make believe.
But Sylvie was not going to allow him to refuse.
She dug in the small leather handbag hanging from her wrist by a strap and pulled out a folded stack of paper.
Warmth spread through his chest. She carried his letters around with her?
Did she enjoy them that much, or was it for reference as she sought the author?
Before he could attempt a reasonable argument against needing to see them, she thrust the papers at him.
“Don’t be concerned about privacy or anything of that sort.
Most ladies would share something like this with their female friends.
But mine is too busy this summer to be much support.
I’m glad you’re here to help me with this. ”
The conflicting emotions her words dredged up hit Miles with the force of a train at full speed.
He was thrilled to be her support, delighted she trusted him enough to turn to him.
But at the same time, her nonchalance about handing over private letters revealed how deeply she considered him her friend, nothing more.
Had he gotten himself in too tight a spot by agreeing to friendship while pursuing her in secret?