wanting him to know that I wasn’t ashamed to be with him. That he was my choice.
Mr. Northam’s voice stopped me. “I hope I did the right thing in telling you.” He said something else, but it was too muffled to make out.
Gregory glanced toward the door then motioned me toward the alcove as he shifted, blocking my view of the door and, I realized, blocking me from being seen.
There was no reason to hide anymore, though, was there? We’d proclaimed our feelings for each other. What did it matter if his cousin discovered us? Confused, I retreated to the shadows of the alcove just as Mr. Northam appeared in the doorway. “Ah, Williams. There you are.”
I pressed myself farther into the shadows as Gregory turned toward his cousin. “What do you want, Northam?” he asked icily.
Mr. Northam stepped into the room. “I didn’t know you enjoyed this room so much. Or perhaps you’re hoping for success where I failed?” He peered around Gregory as though searching the room.
My gaze jumped between Gregory and Mr. Northam. Success where Mr. Northam had failed? What did Mr. Northam mean?
Gregory’s voice turned colder. “Did you want something in particular?”
“I want you to offer me a drink in a more comfortable location. We have matters to discuss.”
It seemed to take a full minute for Gregory to move. “Of course,” he growled as he finally strode out the door.
Mr. Northam made a pretense of following him, but paused at the door and turned back. He surveyed the room with a slow turn of his head, stopping a moment on my location. I pressed against the wall, holding my breath, trying not to move.
Then he left, closing the door behind him, plunging me into darkness.
Thirty-Four
The next morning I walked down the stairs with resolve. There was no longer reason to hesitate. I wanted to be with Gregory, if he’d have me. He was worth the risk to my heart. I would not back down, nor would I pull away again.
Ignoring the small twinge of uncertainty that last night had produced, I located him seated at his desk, studying a ledger. And this time he was alone.
I stepped inside. “My lord?”
“Miss Brinton.” He didn’t look up from his ledger.
I frowned. This wasn’t the reception I’d hoped for. In an act of boldness, I strode to the desk. “About last night. . . .”
He finally looked up, sitting back in his chair and folding his arms with a casual disinterest in his expression.
My uncertainty grew. Was he really so unmoved by what had happened last night? Wasn’t he going to say anything? I’d come into the room, seeking him, even giving him a topic upon which to converse. So he should say something about last night. Or anything at all.
He just sat in his chair and waited.
All right, I would start. I was, after all, the one who had initiated the conversation.
How did I begin? Did I tell him that I’d changed my mind? That my heart was truly his? Or did I bring up the dancing and how I was ready to agree to his suggestion of “unless”? And would he please kiss me, because I was desperate to feel the touch of his lips against mine? That had to be in there somewhere. Maybe I should bring that up first. No, second. Because first should be my asking if he would mind it so very much if I didn’t release him from the engagement after all because I’d realized I didn’t want to be without him.
It all seemed ridiculous now that I was standing before him with him showing no interest in me whatsoever. “Never mind.”
I turned to leave, then turned back, unable to leave his presence so soon. “Only I wanted to say thank you. For the flowers. And the book.”
“Those weren’t delivered last night.”
“No. But there never seemed to be an opportunity yesterday to bring it up.”
“Because of my cousin?”
“Well, yes. But also because you hardly spoke to me. That made it difficult.”
“Did you want me to speak to you?”
I ran my hand along the spines of books on the desk. I wanted so much more than for him to speak to me. “I think I’ll go see if the post has arrived.”
“It hasn’t come yet, Miss Brinton.”
“Oh.” I picked up the top book, turned it over in my hands, and set it down. I was making a fool of myself. I should just leave. “The rain has stopped.” I waited, but he said