He sat on the grassy platform lifting old Georgie. “If I tell you that it is a very honored custom, will you sprawl in the grass with me?”
“Certainly not. Now I see you’re nothing but a rogue. A wolf. And a smart woman never sprawls with that sort.” She ducked her head. If the sun replaced the clouded moon, would he find her cheeks pretty and red? “A smart woman doesn’tsprawlat all. I should return home.” She glanced over her shoulder as she murmured the last bit, her body leaning backward with a single step away from him.
He hadn’t meant… hell. “I did not mean to insult you or… or to imply—”
Her laugh seemed to rustle the tree leaves better than the breeze. “I’m aware. I should leave, though. Good evening.”
“Good evening.”
She bowed and stumbled back toward the shadows, and it felt like she stretched something in him to a breaking point with each step.
“Wait,” he called.
She paused.
“Sit with me? Just for a minute or two.”
She drew herself up tall, tipping her chin high. “That is an inappropriate request, sir. We do not know one another.”
He should ask for her name. Then they would know one another. But he didn’t want to. Whoever this moon maiden waswhen the sun poured itself across the sky didn’t matter. Who he was when dawn broke—of no importance. Tomorrow, the Duke of Clearford would court a widow for duty and obligation. Tonight, Samuel Merriweather would flirt with a stranger. If he didn’t fall in love with his future wife… well, then at least he’d have this final, mad flirtation. Harmless. And somehow also essential.
“We do not have to know one another to enjoy a moment of companionship.”
She snorted. “Companionship? Is that what rakes are calling it? I am no fool, sir.”
“I am far from a rake. I couldn’t rake even if I tried. And I don’t think I ever have.”
“You do notthink? Hm. I’d prefer more certainty than that.” But, miracle of miracles, she ambled toward him and sat on the other side of the platform, much beyond arm’s reach.
His lungs drew breath more easily, the weight of the dark sky lighter with someone to share it.
“Didyoutrip and fall?” she asked. “Is that why you were hugging the ground?”
“No. I… I merely wished to disappear for a few breaths.” Mad to admit the truth to this stranger, but he needed to say it, needed to admit it, so he could move on from it with the strength expected of him.
“Ah.” The softest, smallest sound, yet in it a world of understanding. She’d known the desire to disappear before. “That’s easiest to do laid out beneath the sky. It’s so very big.” She stared straight ahead, and her profile waved the slightest bit at the lips. Biting one? “Makes one feel so very small. Almost not there at all.”
Exactly. “Are you visiting Lord Macintosh?”
“I am. How did you know?”
“The man’s family is extensive. And mostly Scottish. They seem to keep a rotating schedule of visitors, so his guest chambers are never empty.”
That earned another laugh, and that laugh lifted his soul higher than it had soared in years. Because he’d caused it. He should ask if this young beauty knew the matchmaker. But those were daytime worries, heavy and cold, and they might make the moon disappear again. Would she disappear with it?
“It is difficult to tell,” she said, leaning into the empty space between them, “in the dark and all, but I have the distinct impression you are suddenly sad.”
“I am remembering mistakes. Remembering obligations and problems I must face once I leave this garden.”
“The things that made you wish to disappear?”
He pulled up his knees and rested his forearms on top of them. “Let us speak of something else.”
She rustled. “We should not speak at all. I’ve been warned of London’s many dangers. And I am well aware of the dangers of men, no matter what city they inhabit.”
Well aware. Hopefully not personally aware. “You need not fear me.”
“I think… I think I believe you. You are too sad to fear.”
