someone with fabric. Here, give that back to me,” he said, tugging the bolt of fabric from under her arm. He’d attempted to carry it out of the pub, but she’d been too quick for him.
She yelped in surprise, and then glared at him.
It felt good, in an odd way, to have her glare at him. It meant that he could provoke a reaction, not just a tolerance. That she treated him as a person with opinions, albeit opinions with which she did not always agree.
Such as that she should be taught self-defense.
But the thought of her wandering about London, her delicate lady feet taking her to disreputable neighborhoods in search of something pretty—that was enough to make his chest tighten and his fists clench.
“I do appreciate your concern,” she said, this time in a softer tone. “I know Sebastian has likely asked you to watch out for me. I will tell him you are doing a splendid job, if you like.”
“He did not—” Nash began, then clamped his jaw shut. It would be far better for her to believe that he was doing this out of some best friend appeal rather than out of his own worry. If she thought that he was acting out of anything other than honoring a friend’s request—then she would think he cared for her.
He did not want her to know he cared for her.
Because he didn’t, of course. That is, other than the usual care one would have for a friend’s sibling. A person to be tolerated by virtue of that person’s relationship to the person you truly cared about.
And not that he’d ever tell Sebastian he truly cared about him. For one thing, he assumed Sebastian knew.
For the other, that wasn’t anything Nash had ever done—express, out loud, his true feelings toward somebody.
“We’re here. You can leave me now.” She spoke abruptly. Had he been silent too long?
Well, he could answer that question: always.
He hadn’t realized they were as close to the house as they apparently were. They approached it, the waning afternoon light making the many windows sparkle, as though touched by fire.
It was truly impressive, even though Nash knew Sebastian had taken it for granted and Thaddeus sincerely wished it wasn’t his.
Nash could sympathize with both points of view.
The door swung open, as though someone was waiting for them, and the butler stepped out. “My lady, Your Grace,” he called.
Nash and Ana Maria ascended the stairs to the front door, him holding his hand out toward her in case she stumbled.
Something he wasn’t aware of doing. Just that he always did that sort of thing around her.
Why hadn’t he noticed that before? He drew his hand back as though he’d touched a flame.
Goddamn it. She was the flame. And he would not allow himself to get burned by the fire that was sparking within.
He waited until she was safely inside, then turned to go, but paused as he heard Thaddeus call his name.
He hoped to God Thad wasn’t about to warn him away from Ana Maria. Because he was warning himself away well enough, he sure as hell didn’t need his friend to add to it as well.
“Thank you for escorting her home,” Thad said in a gruff voice. “I am not accustomed to worrying about her being out. I will ensure she has adequate protection when she leaves the house.” He shook his head. “I could use a drink, how about you?”
Nash grinned. “Of course,” he replied.
So this was to be a social visit, one where Thad groused about his new pampered life and Nash agreed and drank Thad’s excellent whiskey.
He followed Thad to the study, noting how it had changed since Sebastian had left—the surface of the desk was spotless, no random stacks of paper on it. The letter opener was at a perfect perpendicular angle to the edge of the desk, and the chair was pushed carefully under the desk, not as though someone had just popped up out of it.
“Have a seat.”
Nash sat in the chair opposite the desk, crossing his legs.
Thad busied himself pouring the drinks, squinting at the glasses as though making certain there were precisely equal amounts in each.
Nash took his, raised it to Thad, and downed it all in one gulp.
Thad lifted his eyebrow, then took a sip. He sat in the chair, placing the glass carefully on top of a leather coaster.
The two sat in silence. Nash always appreciated that about Thad—he didn’t make conversations when there was no conversation to