Earl's Well That Ends Well (The Way to a Lord's Heart #5) - Jane Ashford Page 0,17
could it?
A jeering laugh rang in her brain, so strong it almost seemed audible, the product of several male voices whose cold mockery she’d overheard. Love! A pathetic word, an idiot’s weakness. Did little Teresa think to snare an English earl?
Teresa’s hands closed into fists at her sides. “Who spoke of snaring?” she whispered. “Nadie!” She had no such idea, and she rejected, utterly repudiated, anything that threatened her hard-won triumphs.
“Are you all right, miss?”
She turned to find a draper eyeing her with concern from the doorway of his shop.
“Yes. Perfectly all right. Thank you.”
Teresa moved on. No one had spoken of snaring, not even her plaintive interior murmurs, and no one ever would. Perhaps she had enjoyed some parts of her conversations with Lord Macklin. Very well. She would admit this, to herself. It was always best to face the truth. But she didn’t want anything from this handsome earl. She needed nothing from him. And so he had no power over her. He never would. As long as she saw to that, she supposed she could talk with the gentleman now and then.
Reaching the workshop, Teresa shook off her mood, and the past, as she removed her bonnet and gloves. The earl’s visits here were rare and would no doubt end now that London society had begun its annual promenade. Who knew when she would ever see him again? It might be weeks, which was not a disappointment of any kind. She donned her serenity with her painting apron and picked up a brush.
But some time later, when she was sitting on a bench near the carpenters telling Tom the saga of Dilch, Teresa sensed a presence behind her even before Tom’s gaze strayed. She turned. Lord Macklin was there in the doorway, his eyes fixed on her.
Tom waved to him. “Come and hear how Señora Alvarez sent Dilch packing, the currish, beef-witted clotpole.”
The earl came toward them, and Teresa marveled at his easy manner. By dress, bearing, and social position, the man clearly didn’t belong in a workshop, and yet he had made himself welcome. Artisans greeted him like an old friend. They showed him progress on bits of theatrical paraphernalia he’d admired during past visits. And he replied with what seemed to be genuine interest. She couldn’t detect a trace of condescension or impatience. Which didn’t mean it wasn’t there, she reminded herself. The earl might be better at dissimulation than she was at detecting it. She’d encountered such people before.
“You remember Dilch,” Tom added as he joined them.
Macklin smiled at Teresa, and a shiver ran over her skin as if a length of silk had been trailed over her body. “The attempted vegetable thief,” he said.
“And all-’round sheepbiter,” replied Tom with the air of one agreeing. “But Señora Alvarez taught him a lesson.” Tom gestured to encourage her to go on.
“I and my neighbors,” she said. Though she was more self-conscious with Macklin present, she made a good story of it. Indeed, she relished her description of Dilch being hauled away by his womenfolk.
Her audience seemed to appreciate the picture. Their laughter rang through the workshop. “Bravo,” said the earl.
“Right,” said Tom. “Except for one thing.”
“What?” Teresa wondered what she’d overlooked.
“You all did it without me,” Tom complained.
“Ah.” She’d expected this. “Dilch nearly always came by when you were out,” she answered, indicating the busy space around them.
“Still. It don’t seem fair that I missed all the action.” He looked aggrieved. “I’ve been dying to pay off Dilch.” Tom shook his fist.
And with that, Teresa realized that she’d purposely excluded Tom from the move on the bully. The lad was even more alone in the world than she was, and she hadn’t wanted to risk getting him into trouble. Yes, he had friends who would help him, but why put him in that position? She saw that the earl was looking at her. There seemed to be understanding in his face, and a warmth that unsettled her. She turned away from it. “How are your rehearsals for the play going?” she asked Tom.
“Pretty well,” he replied. “I’ve learnt all my speeches. Not that there’s many. Which I’m just as glad of, to tell you the truth. I don’t see how the main actors commit all them…those words to memory.”
“But you are enjoying being onstage?” asked Macklin.
“I am.”
When Tom grinned in that wholehearted way, you couldn’t help smiling back, Teresa thought. Good humor simply shone out of him.
“I’m looking forward to seeing you,” said Macklin.