Page 48 of The Lord Next Door
He was watching her lips as she spoke, and it was distracting in a very pleasurable way.
“Well, it didn’t compare to needlework, of course.” Was she actually flirting with him? “But both were things I could do alone.”
“You did not have any girlhood friends besides your sisters?”
She met his gaze with deliberation. “Don’t you remember?”
There was a very revealing pause.
“I meant after we stopped writing,” he said.
“Ah, I see.” She gave him a small smile. “There were daughters among my parents’ friends, but Louisa and Meriel blended in far better than I did. In fact, I met a few of them last night. But when I was young, I preferred the companionship of my sisters.”
“I envied you, you know.”
She leaned toward him, glad to be the focus of his attention. “What do you mean?”
“I would have given anything for siblings.”
He spoke quietly, and her heart broke for him. It was one of those moments that she wished could go on forever, a moment that made her feel as if they might someday have a marriage to treasure. But how to make that happen?
He briskly folded the newspaper and set it beside her. “I’ll leave this in case you’re interested,” he said, getting to his feet. “I’ve instructed my steward about your pin money, so see him when you wish.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
“I’m not sure when I’ll return, so have a pleasant day, Victoria. I’m off for a ride through Hyde Park.”
“May I consult with your steward about the dinner party you’ve begun planning?”
“Of course.”
He hesitated, and their eyes met. She wondered if he was truly sorry he’d withheld things from her. Or did apologizing just make things easier for him?
He left the room, and several minutes later she heard the front door close. With a sigh, she slumped back in her chair. She had to do something to attract his interest, to give them more than newspaper articles to discuss.
She thought about him riding alone through the park, exercising his horse. Did he remember why she’d never learned to ride?
Chapter
Eleven
Victoria knocked on the earl’s door. A kitchen maid stood beside her, holding a tray with tea and biscuits and a vase of flowers. Victoria was tempted to steady the tray because the maid was shaking so badly. When they heard nothing, Victoria knocked again.
“My lord?” she called. “It is I, Victoria.”
She knew he was in there, since the doctor had just left. He’d said that the earl’s condition was deteriorating at a steady pace, and had agreed to increase the dosage of medication.
She couldn’t let the earl wallow in the despair of his prognosis. So she opened the door. The maid gasped and took a step back. The earl’s wheelchair was pushed against a table with a sheaf of papers spread across it. He glanced up at them and scowled. She thought he looked paler this morning, the lines on his face deeper. She knew he wouldn’t want her pity, but he had it anyway.
She gave him a bright smile and motioned for the maid to set the tray on a side table. Then the girl fled, closing the door behind her.
“I picked flowers this morning to brighten your room, my lord. Where shall I put them?”
“Away from me. The smell annoys me.”
Her smile faltered just a little. “Well, the colors are cheerful. I’ll put them in this corner.”
With his spectacles on his nose, he looked down at his papers.
