“I remember Phyllis,” Bernadette said in a shaky voice.
Alden couldn’t help but smile at the endearing combination of fear and determination in Bernadette’s expression as she stared at Anjelica.
His mouth twitched with inappropriate humor again before he asked, “Would you like to pet her?” He’d once had a colleague in the Amazon who had seduced women by asking them if they’d like to pet his snake.
Bernadette surprised him by saying, “Al-alright,” and inching forward.
She stretched out her hand, looking as though she were fighting to keep it steady, then gingerly brushed her fingertips along Anjelica’s middle.
At that first touch, she blinked and raised her eyes to Alden. “She’s not slimy at all,” she said.
Alden could have laughed. “You expected her to be slimy?”
“She’s quite … shiny,” Bernadette said, giving the snake another stroke. “I had assumed that meant she would be at the very least damp to the touch.”
“No, not all,” Alden said. “My snakes are all very clean and without disease of any sort.”
Again, he had a nearly impossible time keeping a straight face as past memories of his wickeder days came to mind.
Come to think of it, watching Bernadette stroke Anjelica with increasing ease was most definitely reminding his personal snake of wickedness.
“Er, your lordship?” the gruff worker, who had stayed in the hallway for the entire rescue mission, said from the door, clearing his throat. “Might we get to work?” The poor man seemed unwilling to venture any farther into the room.
“Yes, of course,” Alden said, all smiles and good spirits, his crisis of propriety averted. To Bernadette he said, “We should return Anjelica to her home in the terrarium.”
Bernadette’s gaze was still fixed on Anjelica as she continued to pet the snake. She pulled her hand back a minute later, then smiled up at Alden and said, “Yes, of course.”
Alden’s heart couldn’t have felt lighter if he’d been back in the Caribbean, discovering new subspecies of geckos in the crystal-blue afternoon near aquamarine waters. Yes, Bernadette was simply wonderful. He wished he’d discovered her before hatching the idea of a ball.
“Is there a way to secure the doors to make certain your friends do not escape again and bother the workers?” Bernadette asked once they were all safe in the terrarium and Alden had let Anjelica slither off to her favorite of the trees.
“I was convinced the doors were secure already,” Alden said with a small frown, glancing around the room. “I wonder if they’ve been escaping through the walls.”
He caught Bernadette’s small shiver.
“Perhaps something should be done before the ball to shore up the walls?” Bernadette suggested.
Alden didn’t think that was likely to happen. He suspected that there would always be reptiles wandering the halls of Lyndhurst Grove, and that whichever bride he chose would need to be comfortable with that.
Which was yet another reason to explore whether Bernadette could be that bride.
“I will do what I can,” Alden said, glancing around once more to prevent himself from staring and smiling at Bernadette like a lovesick fool. He noticed what might have been a crack in the top of the wall, near where the glass-paneled ceiling joined with the house, near the branch of one of the trees, that might have been the lizard escape route. “I suppose the amount of work that should be done to prevent escapes would need to coincide with your plans for the ball,” he said, returning his gaze to Bernadette.
Bernadette was studying the terrarium with an equal amount of intensity to him. “I think it would be best to limit entry by your guests into this room,” she said, a delightful crease forming between her brows. It showed both that she was older than she first appeared, and that she was more intelligent than most men would give her credit for. “The ball itself should be held in the garden, as we’ve decided upon, but all other activities that weekend should be focused in other parts of the house as well.”
“And have you conjured up any further details of this grand ball?” Alden asked, stepping subtly closer to her.
“I think I have,” Bernadette said, finishing her glance around and turning to smile at him. “I think it would be both wise and exciting to plan both the decorations and the activities of the entire weekend around your travels.”
A small thrill shot through Alden, and he could not control the broadness of his smile. “Truly?” he asked.
“Yes,” Bernadette went on. “I should like to consult with you on the flowers and colors of the Amazonian basin, or perhaps another of the locations of your expeditions, so that we might make the garden outside appear to be a seamless extension of the terrarium.”
“That sounds like a magnificent idea,” Alden said, inching closer still to Bernadette.
“Further,” Bernadette went on, all business, without any trace of fear or hesitation, “I think it would be amusing for your guests to be able to decorate their gowns and masks with any remnants of feathers or flowers left behind by your extraordinary collection. Whatever might be spared to reflect their ideas of the exotic. Any bride of yours would need to be adventurous enough to wear bright colors at the very least.”
Alden suddenly noted the vibrant blue of Bernadette’s gown. It set off the blonde of her hair and the pink in her cheeks perfectly. It reminded him of the Caribbean, all vibrant and serene.