Page 29 of A Brilliant Match
He gulped. Rather, it was what he wished toaskher that was difficult.
When they had collected their effects from the butler—Miles having invented some excuse to Lady Berkley why he couldn’t stay—they exited out into the fresh air.
“Mama, let me walk alongside you,” Lady Sophia said, slipping her arm through her mother’s.
“Very well, my dear, but you needn’t hurry us along. I fear I shall slip and turn my ankle at this pace.”
“Oh no, I shall not let go for an instant, and itischilly out,” Lady Sophia said, moving her mother at a quicker pace than he could have thought. What a surprise it was to have an ally in the quiet, shy Lady Sophia, for he was certain she was giving him thetête-à-têtehe so clearly desired with her sister.
He offered his arm to Lady Dorothea and set out at as slow a pace as she would allow.
“I have not seen you since the theater on Wednesday night,” he observed.
“It is true, our paths have not crossed,” she replied in a noncommittal tone.
Despite that, he felt little tremors from her at his side. She would not be trembling if he left her entirely unaffected. It gave him courage. He was considering how to begin when she paused her steps, causing him to stop and look at her.
“I am sorry, I—” She did not continue.
“What is it, my lady?” Surely she couldn’t have divined what he wanted to ask her.
“I seem to have a rock in my shoe, and it is making it difficult to walk.”
From Dorothea’s flushed countenance, he guessed the admission embarrassed her. A wild image of sweeping her into his arms and carrying her home was dispatched as quickly as it entered his head.
“There is”—he looked around—“there is the public garden there. Do you think your mother would allow me to escort you into the park so you might remove it?”
She looked pained—frustrated. After a minute she glanced ahead at her sister, who was well out of earshot. “Will you explain the situation to my sister and mother? I fear it is the only option I have, for I certainly cannot take off my shoe on a public road, and I cannot walk.”
“Stay here,” he said, with a light touch on her arm.
He jogged forward as quickly as he could to where Lady Sophia and her mother were and explained the situation. They turned back to look at Dorothea, who stared at them with an indecipherable look on her face that he was beginning to be able to puzzle out. She did not like being in a vulnerable position.
After receiving permission for the brief detour in the garden, Miles jogged back to Dorothea.
“Your mother is fretting that you do not have your maid with you, but your sister reasoned with her that it is not likely to cause people to talk. Not in such an open, public place.”
Dorothea breathed out. “I hope not.”
She turned toward the garden he had indicated that was really just a short distance away. It was only now that he noticed her slight limp. He gave as much support to her arm as he could, enjoying the occasion to draw her near. They approached the black iron gate to the garden that cut across to an opposite street. There were stone benches inside, and plants and trees placed artfully throughout. The park proved quite private, actually, for a public garden. It was the perfect setting for discreetly removing a pebble from one’s shoe.
It was the perfect setting for a proposal.
Although Miles could not believe his luck, he would have been heartily relieved if he could be sure she felt the same way about him as he did about her. He would have waited to be sure if he could, but his circumstances did not allow it. It was indeed a trouble to go about his courtship this way, but continue he must. Now, if only she might be induced to accept him.
Chapter12
Dorothea was in perfect misery as she limped into the public garden at Mr. Shaw’s side. Her body had betrayed her. Her heart betrayed her. No matter how much she wished to wrestle into submission her reaction to seeing this man in keeping with the decision she had made for her life, her stomachwouldquiver, her heartwouldthump, her facewouldblush. And she was furious about it.
If she had not precisely been able to keep Mr. Shaw from her thoughts in recent days, she had at least convinced herself that it was all for the best. His absence would allow her to focus on her matrimonial goals. On her future.
Not that she was actually given time to do any of that, for Tilly had caught another cold, and this time had passed it on to Miss Cross. As for Evo, rather than listening to any of her remonstrations, he had only caused her more headaches. His latest devilry was to threaten not to return to school, stating that he knew his father had dropped his education early but that everyone liked him so much more than a bore like Mr. Sands. Then, Joanna had walked out alone on the streets of London without a maid as though she were a common scullery girl.
That last bit brought Dorothea back to the present. How ironic that she found herself in the same position for which she had taken her sister to task. Here. Alone with Mr. Shaw without a maid. She was now seated on a bench in an empty public garden, staring at his back.
He had turned, allowing her to untie her half boot and remove the offending pebble—how had a pebble made the leap into a laced half boot?—giving her the privacy her delicate situation required. She tried not to stare in front of her for too long, but one glimpse of his athletic set of thighs and she was reliving the memory of him leaping onto the runaway carriage. And her admiration took flight once again.
What if he sat on the bench next to her? What if he pulled her close? What if he put his arms around her and tilted his head down and touched his lips to hers—
