Dimwit. Perhaps Samuel should invite him to the portrait gallery and ask him to stand in front of the tree.
Emma disliked that idea, though. She’d been quite stern with him about it the few times they’d exchanged words in the last fortnight—a few minutes in Hyde Park, a sentence or two as she was coming and going with Felicity to some outing, a word exchanged in a loud ballroom, their shoulders an entire person’s worth of inches away from touching. Enough space between them for King George to fit.
They’d had one meeting in the portrait gallery, her soothing his Bransley-shaped fears, and him teaching her to snap her wrist the right way when she threw his knives. He taught from a distance. He spoke with her from a distance.
Any space between them shorter than an arm’s length too much temptation.
Dancing clearly too dangerous. He’d avoided that entirely. He didn’t feel like a friend when he danced with her, had trouble convincing himself those moon garden feelings were false. Tomorrow, another weekly meeting. He’d keep the conversation focused on Bransley. What were they to do with the haunting earl? Particularly if Samuel were not allowed to threaten him!
Perhaps he could simply… scare him off. Samuel’s belly growled. When had he last eaten? But he could not move from his spot if that man circled like a bird of prey. It was for Samuel’s own good that he sent the man running. Bransley must be hungry, too. How long had he been out there? He should go home, eat. Leave Felicity alone.
Samuel made his way downstairs, each footstep quicker than the last, and out onto the street. He could not see the man so well without his bird’s-eye view. But he knew which direction Bransley traveled around the garden. Samuel would take the opposite route.
Setting his steps casually clockwise around the garden, he slipped his hands into his pockets and whistled. He simply wished to enjoy the setting of the sun. No better time of day to stretch the legs, enjoy fresh air, and—
“Hell.” He rocked back onto his heels as he almost ran into a body coming round the corner. “You?”
Lady Emma pointed a finger at him, the other hand firm on her hip, as she marched him backward. “Me! What do you think you are doing?”
No more retreat. He stood his ground, legs wide, arms crossing over his chest. “Walking. In front of my house. I’ve every right to do that.”
Her turn to rock back now when she almost bumped into his chest. But not too far. Her ire kept her close enough to poke him, or gut him, should she so desire. “I told you to leave the poor man alone.”
She was too close. He could touch her. The impulse flinched in each and every one of his fingers. This, what he’d been avoiding. This, what he craved, damn it all.
“What poor man?” he asked. “I’m the only poor soul I see here.”
“You know who I mean. You came out here to threaten him, didn’t you?”
“I’ve no idea what you mean. Such a devious mind you possess, my lady.”
“I saw you watching him.”
“Watching me, were you?” Flirting. He shouldn’t. But he leaned closer, bent his neck, and inhaled. Cinnamon and flowers. What soap did she use? If he stole a bar and used it himself would the scent dull his cravings? For her.
Red rushed across her cheeks. “What I am doing is of no consequence. I thought we agreed you were to leave him alone.”
“But he’s not left Felicity alone. What have you done with him?”
“I sent him away.”
“Thank you.”
Her brows rushed together. “I did it for his sake, not yours.”
“The man’s gone, which is exactly what I wanted. Stroll with me? It’s a fine evening.”
“You’re evading a serious conversation.”
“I’m welcoming it.Tomorrow, when we are scheduled to discuss it. For now… Bransley is gone, and I can relax my watch, and I would like company.”Hercompany. “Please? I’m rather exhausted from pacing between windows, and I see you are, too.”
“I wasn’t pacing,” she grumbled.
“Of course not.” He held out his arm.
And she took it. “A short walk only. Night is falling.”
Yes, and it was already growing dark and cold. The day having been gray under the weight of rain clouds, the night proved to be ink in no time.
