“No, but until I am certain you will not send the whole household after me if I choose to take an impromptu nap in the Sun Room one afternoon, I shall,” she replied.
He sighed. “You mean, you’ll bother me with my own rule until I strike it from the list?”
“I suppose that depends on whose resolve thins quicker.” She flashed a mischievous grin.
He shook his head and offered his arm. “You’re a strange creature, Matilda, so you’re lucky it becomes you well.” He took hold of her hand when she did not accept his arm. “Let me escort you inside. My mother might be lurking.”
She allowed him to guide her up the steps into the house, but as she walked with him, a thought popped into her head. A thought so frustrating that she cursed her summertime stupor for not recalling it sooner.
“Albion?”
He peered down at her. “Yes, Matilda?”
“You never did tell me what it was I said to you on the night of the ball about my work,” she said anxiously, her heart fluttering.
A true smile lifted the corners of his lips as he guided her toward the staircase, ushering up the first few before he finally answered. “You really want to know?”
“If I do not, I shall be driven to madness,” she replied, quite serious.
He leaned on the newel post at the bottom of the stairs. “You were mumbling about writing a new chapter.”
“Anything else?” Her breath caught in her throat, hand gripping the banister.
His smile widened. “You mentioned what you wanted to name it.”
“The book or the chapter?”
“The chapter.” The low light danced in his eyes, mimicking mischief. “You said, ‘I shall name it… what is the point of a kiss?’ I think that might be too long for a chapter name, but I do think I solved the question during these past few days.”
Matilda’s insides curled up with the utter humiliation of his revelation. She had to wonder when, exactly, that feeling had become a familiar companion. Once upon a time, she barely knew the word “embarrassment,” and not a soul could make her cheeks flush with any heat whatsoever. Then, she got married.
“My answer to that question, and I’ve considered it thoroughly,” he told her, “is that the point of a kiss is to not overthink it. It is done simply because it feels right with the right person. It’s how certain things can be said without saying a word.”
She stared at him, her mouth open.
He pushed away from the newel post. “I won’t be offended if you don’t include my answer in your book though Iamevermore curious about what it is you’re writing.” He began to walk toward a nearby hallway, tossing back over his shoulder, “Nothing scandalous, I hope!”
Matilda stood there on the fourth step up for several minutes after he had gone. She heard his study door open and shut and the chatter of servants somewhere in the manor, but other than that, it was just the roaring in her head to keep her company.
And in the center of that internal din, the same words echoed over and over, making her unsteady on her feet:“It’s how certain things can be said without saying a word.”
CHAPTERTWENTY
“Mr. Algernon, what do you know of women?” Albion asked as he fastened the buttons of his regimental tailcoat.
Laurence set down the tea he had been pouring. Albion did not really want any tea, but he felt somewhat guilty about not having anything else for the valet to do.
“Not too much, not too little,” the valet replied. “Sugar, Your Grace?”
Albion shook his head. “No, thank you.”
After his bold remark to Matilda the previous night, he had fully expected her to bring it up at the dinner table. When she had not, choosing to discuss every and any other subject imaginable, he had begun to wonder if he had acted poorly. But with Ben gone, he had no one to speak to about such matters.
“Mr. Algernon, is a gentleman supposed to speak to his valet about personal things?” Albion could not believe how foolish he felt as if he were a boy in breeches again.
Still, he reminded himself that when one did not know something, it was always advised to get a more knowledgeable opinion. The only stupid question was the one not asked when necessary.
Laurence lifted his shoulders in a polite shrug. “It is a matter of preference, Your Grace. I have served gentlemen who see a valet as the equivalent of a lady’s confidante. I have served others who do not wish to divulge anything, seeing my services as something more practical.”
