Instead, he once more held out his arm and they continued walking. ‘My mother died when my sister was born. My father, little more than six months ago.’
While he sounded calm enough, tension radiated through him as if the words were hard to say. She had the urge to wrap an arm about his waist and give him a hug. Goodness, he’d probably take a fit if she did any such thing. Still, she patted his arm in silent sympathy and his amazingly blue eyes when he glanced down held a smile. ‘My grandmother lives with me. A feisty old lady she is, too. Always trying to boss me about.’
She chuckled, because she sensed that was what he wanted—no, needed—and also because the idea of anyone bossing such a fiercely commanding man about was laughable. ‘And what is it that she wants you to do?’
His face became inscrutable. ‘Marry. Produce the heir.’
‘And you do not want to?’
‘I’ll do my duty.’
He stopped at a flowering shrub. ‘This is gentian.’
A deliberate change of subject. She might not be educated, but she wasn’t stupid. ‘How pretty.’
‘And this is a rose bush.’
‘Hah. Very funny.’ The blossoms were perfect and a lovely pale yellow.
He dropped her hand and removed his fob from his pocket. He detached a small knife and cut off the stem of a blossom a day or so past the bud stage, but not yet in full bloom. With his little knife he cut off the thorns and handed it to her with a bow. ‘While not as fair as you, I hope you will accept it as a token of my esteem.’
She giggled.
He cocked a brow. ‘You find me amusing, Madame?’
Oh, dear, had she insulted him again? ‘I find such flowery nonsense amusing. It does not sound like you at all.’
Again the strange questioning look. ‘So it is honesty your prefer.’
She knew she was plain, but did she want him to say it? Better he said what he thought instead of puffing her up only to let her fall. After all, by the light of the candle, in that gown and the mask, he would not have been able to make out her features. Perhaps that accounted for his reserve. He was disappointed.
‘I do prefer it.’
The smile he gave her was so sweet, so endearing, it almost took her breath away.
‘Then honesty compels me to say I have never in my life met a woman like you.’
Ouch. Clearly her attempt to be ladylike was failing badly. To hide her embarrassment, she brought the rose to her face and inhaled deeply. The delicate scent brought a smile to her lips. ‘And I have never smelled a rose so sweet.’
He opened his mouth to say something, then gave a swift shake of his head as if he thought better of it.
‘Tell me about you,’ he said, beginning to walk again.
She tucked her hand under his arm. ‘There is not much to tell.’ Not much of interest to him in any case.
‘You have siblings?’
Siblings. Another unfamiliar word. But they had been talking of families. He must be asking about members of hers. She made a stab at the meaning.
‘I have no brothers or sisters.’ That she knew of. ‘My parents are also dead.’ Dead to her, for they’d never come to claim their bastard daughter. ‘I live with distant relatives.’ Liar. But what else could she say? That she lived in London’s rookeries? That would certainly spoil his image of her as a lady. Anyway, what difference did another white lie make, when nothing about her was real.
They had come to a wall. The end of the garden, she assumed. She turned back and was surprised to see only the chimneys of the house were visible, through the trees. ‘I suppose we must go back.’
‘I wanted to show you something.’
The girls had been very free with their advice as they helped her dress. Flo’s last warning rang in her ears. ‘If he says he wants to show you something, watch out. He might want to show you more than you want to see.’
‘Such as what?’ she had asked.
The girls had collapsed in laughter. But when they realised she was serious, they had looked worried. ‘How did such an innocent come to work in a place like this?’ one of them grumbled.
‘He might want to show off his manly bits,’ one of the others said. She pointed below her waist.
‘Not if he’s a gentleman,’ Flo said severely. ‘Not the first time. Still, be careful.’
Rose blushed at the memory.
‘I really should go back.’
‘Rose,’ he said, shaking his head at her. ‘It is nothing to fear.’
‘The archbishop said to the actress,’ Rose mumbled under her breath.
He laughed outright. ‘I heard that, you little minx. Where on earth did you hear such a thing? From one of the servants, no doubt. I advise you not to use it in company.’ He swept back a tangle of shrub that trailed down to the ground, honeysuckle, she thought, to reveal a swing hanging from the limb of a large tree.
‘Oh.’ She felt extremely foolish.
‘Sit. I will give you a push.’ He glanced up at the sky, ‘And then you probably should go, before dusk draws in.’
He was right, the sky above was a much deeper blue now and the sky to the west was turning golden and pink.
He held the wooden seat steady by the ropes while she sat. The thing wobbled beneath her bum. She gave a little shriek.
‘It is all right. I won’t let you fall.’ He frowned. ‘Hold on to the rope above the knots.’
Right. Of course. She’d seen pictures of this. She could do it.
‘Relax.’ His grin was infectious and, yes, there was a little dimple in each cheek she hadn’t noticed before. Her stomach gave an odd little hop. With a swallow, she eased her death grip on the rope.
He pushed the seat and it swung forward a foot and back a foot. She gasped. He pushed again on the backward swing. This time she went farther and her feet were far off the ground. She felt as if she’d left her stomach somewhere behind her. It caught up to her the moment she started going backwards.
She shut her eyes tight.
He pushed again.
She opened her eyes as the air rushed against her face and tugged at her hair as the ground fell away. This must be how birds felt when they flew.
‘Tell me if it’s too high,’ he said the next time he caught the wooden seat and pushed off again.
Her body relaxed. It wasn’t too high. It was wonderful. She laughed, throwing her head back, gazing up into the tree. The rushing air forced the bonnet from her head, the ribbons caught, then let go and it flew away. A strange sense of joy filled her. She couldn’t help it. A feeling of...freedom. She smothered the urge to laugh until she was breathless.
Gently, carefully, as if she was precious, he brought the swing to a stop. He came around to face her a smile on his lips, gazing down at her with such a look in his eyes, she felt seared to her very soul. A feeling something like the one when she had when they danced in the Green Room.
Slowly he dipped his head.
She lifted her face to meet his searching gaze, a sense of wonder filling her heart. A feeling so powerful, it felt as if it would burst out of her chest.
Their lips met.
The magic of his kiss swamped her, so light and