A Secret Surrender - Darcy Burke Page 0,46
over the fireplace and a wooden box with a carved lid that sat on the mantelpiece.
Miss Whitford sat in a simple chair with a deep-green-cushioned seat. “Will you sit, Mr. Sheffield?” She indicated the settee.
Harry situated himself, setting his hat down beside him, and a bare moment later, Mrs. Vining entered with a tray. She set it on a table next to Miss Whitford’s chair. There were three glasses of some liquid and a plate of biscuits. He removed his gloves in anticipation of partaking and put them atop his hat.
“Thank you, Mrs. Vining, that will be all.” Miss Whitford picked up one of the glasses and handed it to Harry. “Lemonade?”
He didn’t particularly want any, but he also didn’t wish to be rude. “Thank you.” He took the glass and held on to it. “Where is Lady Gresham?”
“She had an errand to run, but I expect her back shortly.” Picking up a biscuit, Miss Whitford took a nibble as she contemplated Harry. Harry sipped his lemonade and nearly spit it out. It was the worst lemonade he’d ever tasted.
“What brings you here, Mr. Sheffield? I wasn’t aware you knew where we lived. But I suppose you would since your parents know our direction.”
“Just so,” he said, transferring the lemonade to his other hand when he really wanted to toss it into the hearth. “I came to invite Lady Gresham—and you, of course—to Spring Hollow. It’s a pleasure garden in Clerkenwell.”
“Why are you inviting her? And when? I mean, will we go in the afternoon or in the evening?”
“I thought the evening so we could see the fireworks. And I’m inviting both of you. Because I’d like to help you see London.”
Miss Whitford narrowed her eyes slightly, and they took on a sheen of steel, making her look older than Harry had thought her to be. “You came to invite Selina and are including me because you must. I am not a fool, Mr. Sheffield. You like my sister.”
Hell, if his family was frightening in their desire to match Harry, Selina’s was equally so in her desire to… investigate. Harry knew that when he saw it. But was she hoping for a match as his sisters were?
“I do,” he said cautiously. “I also like you.”
“It would probably be better if one of your sisters and her husband came along—for appearances. Perhaps Rachel and her husband wouldn’t mind joining us?”
Bloody hell. If Rachel came along, her efforts to push Harry and Selina together would be doubled. At least. And Harry didn’t need her. He wanted Selina.
On the other hand, if Rachel and Nathaniel were to come, Harry could find himself alone with Selina—they could chaperone Miss Whitford. Which meant…
Harry looked sharply at Miss Whitford. “It seems Lady Gresham’s family is as keen to play matchmaker as mine.” He laughed softly and nearly took another sip of lemonade before recalling it tasted like the Thames.
The steel returned to Miss Whitford’s gaze along with a chill. “My sister isn’t looking for a match, and I certainly wouldn’t presume to know her mind better than she. You would do well to remember that, Mr. Sheffield.” She finished her biscuit while continuing to pin him with her unsettling stare.
Harry received her message clearly—not only was Selina not interested in marriage, her sister would defend her in whatever way necessary. He inclined his head and reached for a biscuit, then thought better of it, returning his hand to his side.
Footsteps drew Harry to turn his head toward the doorway. Selina stepped inside, a vision of smart loveliness in a bold yellow walking dress trimmed in black and red.
Harry got to his feet, setting the lemonade back on the tray with no intention to retrieve it. “Good afternoon, Lady Gresham.”
“Mr. Sheffield, what a surprise to see you here.” She came farther into the room and glanced toward her sister, who rose from her seat.
“He came to invite us to Spring Hollow,” Miss Whitford said. “I’ll leave you to settle the details.” She gave Harry a charming smile that was completely at odds with the brusque young woman he’d just glimpsed. So much so that he wondered if he’d imagined her earlier coolness.
After she was gone, Selina moved toward the window. She turned to face him. “Spring Hollow? This is a purely social invitation?” She sounded a bit surprised—and perhaps flattered.
Harry told her the truth. “Not purely, but I need to pay a visit to Spring Hollow. Since you’ve offered to help with my investigation regarding the Vicar,