If only she could think of a way to fetch him to bring her the water she had claimed to need.
“Looking for someone?” came a voice from directly behind her. “Do not turn around, rather stay as you are.”
Chloe relaxed as though into a safe haven. “St. Aubyn, I am very glad to see you—even if I cannot, if you know what I mean.” She turned her head so she might catch a glimpse of him. He had looked smashing from a distance and she would wager he was quite devastating up close.
“Heliotrope again,” he murmured. “I would find you anywhere.” He inhaled with appreciation. “What news do you have for me?”
The smooth wool of his coat brushed against her arm, sending tremors through her. Even her sheer sleeve could not prevent her awareness of his touch. “Grandmama continues to insist I must accept Lord Twisdale. I pleaded for time and she has most reluctantly granted a little respite. I fear it is not much. I confess I am afraid of him. It will be bread and water if I refuse him, however.”
Her drawing tablet slid to the floor and St. Aubyn hastened to pick it up for her. “Miss Wingrove? A wilting dove? How fitting. Yet it is not malicious. Tell me, do you often sketch people in this manner?”
Forgetting her problems for a moment, Chloe smiled. “Indeed. Mr. Purcell is a naughty magpie.”
“Let me guess… Lord Twisdale is a serpent?”
“True,” she said with downcast eyes. Then she turned her head, accidently brushing her cheek against his lips to say breathlessly, “And Grandmama is a dragon.”
Chapter 4
“Hurry, I fear they are leaving the box opposite us. Try to meet me tomorrow—say at the panorama in Leicester Square, just inside the door at two of the clock,” he urged.
Still very much aware of the slight touch of his lips against her cheek, Chloe marshaled her nerves and nodded. “I will do my best. Perhaps Grandmama will allow me to visit there, with my maid, Ellen, along. I could say it is an educational venture.”
“I will be there,” he promised. “I know how difficult it is for you, so I will wait an hour before leaving.”
Chloe felt a faint rush of air from the hall and knew, even without turning to see, that he had gone. She moved forward to the front of the box and watched, wondering if he might appear elsewhere. Within a brief time, she saw him enter the box opposite her, bending forward to speak with her aunt.
She had no right at all to feel this pang of dismay, yet she did. Quite obviously there was something between them. What it might be she refused to speculate.
Behind her a rustle of skirts informed her that the Dowager Lady Dancy had returned with Lord Twisdale behind her.
“Ah, you remained in the box. I told you she is an obedient girl, Twisdale.” Grandmama sounded odiously triumphant.
“True, Grandmama, I did not leave the box. Alas, I could not find anyone who would bring me a glass of lemonade, but I will wait until we take our leave.” Chloe wondered if her cousins would have been as meek and mild as she was now—given the same circumstances. Somehow she could not see her Cousin Hyacinthe behaving so passively. Yet, Chloe dare not anger her grandmother. Not if she hoped to achieve the appointment with Mr. St. Aubyn tomorrow. She felt deliciously wicked, planning a tryst with a gentleman—even if it was nothing more than to scheme how to escape a distasteful marriage to another man.
Distasteful? She studied Lord Twisdale while pretending to look beyond him at the stage. The sharp scent from Lord Twisdale wafted past her and she held her handkerchief to her nose. One did not wish to overdo the sneezing. Every bone and nerve in her body felt him a dangerous man. Surely she was being fanciful? Yet Mr. St. Aubyn had known of the rumor.
Her dear friend Laura had just told her that she had heard that Lady Twisdale had taken a powder of arsenic from her medicine chest by mistake. Chloe thought it peculiar that a woman would not know
“Looking for someone?” came a voice from directly behind her. “Do not turn around, rather stay as you are.”
Chloe relaxed as though into a safe haven. “St. Aubyn, I am very glad to see you—even if I cannot, if you know what I mean.” She turned her head so she might catch a glimpse of him. He had looked smashing from a distance and she would wager he was quite devastating up close.
“Heliotrope again,” he murmured. “I would find you anywhere.” He inhaled with appreciation. “What news do you have for me?”
The smooth wool of his coat brushed against her arm, sending tremors through her. Even her sheer sleeve could not prevent her awareness of his touch. “Grandmama continues to insist I must accept Lord Twisdale. I pleaded for time and she has most reluctantly granted a little respite. I fear it is not much. I confess I am afraid of him. It will be bread and water if I refuse him, however.”
Her drawing tablet slid to the floor and St. Aubyn hastened to pick it up for her. “Miss Wingrove? A wilting dove? How fitting. Yet it is not malicious. Tell me, do you often sketch people in this manner?”
Forgetting her problems for a moment, Chloe smiled. “Indeed. Mr. Purcell is a naughty magpie.”
“Let me guess… Lord Twisdale is a serpent?”
“True,” she said with downcast eyes. Then she turned her head, accidently brushing her cheek against his lips to say breathlessly, “And Grandmama is a dragon.”
Chapter 4
“Hurry, I fear they are leaving the box opposite us. Try to meet me tomorrow—say at the panorama in Leicester Square, just inside the door at two of the clock,” he urged.
Still very much aware of the slight touch of his lips against her cheek, Chloe marshaled her nerves and nodded. “I will do my best. Perhaps Grandmama will allow me to visit there, with my maid, Ellen, along. I could say it is an educational venture.”
“I will be there,” he promised. “I know how difficult it is for you, so I will wait an hour before leaving.”
Chloe felt a faint rush of air from the hall and knew, even without turning to see, that he had gone. She moved forward to the front of the box and watched, wondering if he might appear elsewhere. Within a brief time, she saw him enter the box opposite her, bending forward to speak with her aunt.
She had no right at all to feel this pang of dismay, yet she did. Quite obviously there was something between them. What it might be she refused to speculate.
Behind her a rustle of skirts informed her that the Dowager Lady Dancy had returned with Lord Twisdale behind her.
“Ah, you remained in the box. I told you she is an obedient girl, Twisdale.” Grandmama sounded odiously triumphant.
“True, Grandmama, I did not leave the box. Alas, I could not find anyone who would bring me a glass of lemonade, but I will wait until we take our leave.” Chloe wondered if her cousins would have been as meek and mild as she was now—given the same circumstances. Somehow she could not see her Cousin Hyacinthe behaving so passively. Yet, Chloe dare not anger her grandmother. Not if she hoped to achieve the appointment with Mr. St. Aubyn tomorrow. She felt deliciously wicked, planning a tryst with a gentleman—even if it was nothing more than to scheme how to escape a distasteful marriage to another man.
Distasteful? She studied Lord Twisdale while pretending to look beyond him at the stage. The sharp scent from Lord Twisdale wafted past her and she held her handkerchief to her nose. One did not wish to overdo the sneezing. Every bone and nerve in her body felt him a dangerous man. Surely she was being fanciful? Yet Mr. St. Aubyn had known of the rumor.
Her dear friend Laura had just told her that she had heard that Lady Twisdale had taken a powder of arsenic from her medicine chest by mistake. Chloe thought it peculiar that a woman would not know
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