Then their gazes had locked, ripples had rolled down his spine. Deerhurst found himself entertaining a lavish thought. An unbidden, wild, and thoroughly intolerable question.
Would she accept or reject him if ever she discovered the secret that he had spent blood, sweat, and tears hiding from the world?
The question was so unexpected, so startling, that Deerhurst exorcised it entirely from his mind. This question was not to be borne. Too much was at stake. And now he had another secret. The secret of the list.
Christ.
There were the secrets you want to keep hidden, and the ones you do not dare let out. Deerhurst might have too many of the latter. Sometimes the weight of them threatened to crush him.
The butler seemed to expect him, and he opened the door before Deerhurst could raise his arm and knock. He followed the servant to the drawing room where Phaedra waited for him with a bright smile.
He took her in. Dressed in a simple day gown, the same color as her cheeks after the excursion of her twirls. Her eyes sparkled. She was a vision.
“Hello,” she said, as if they hadn’t spoken just moments ago.
“Hello.”
She motioned to the empty room. “It worked.”
“I’m surprised.” He stepped over the threshold. “If I were one of your real suitors, I would not have given up so easily.”
Her lips quirked. “I’m not sure they have given up, to be honest. My mother instructed that all callers, except for you, be turned away. I suppose we shall have to wait and see the outcome.”
Deerhurst nodded. He glanced around the room. “Where is the countess? Will she be joining us?”
“Oh, no. She and my aunt went shopping.”
“They left you alone knowing I would call?”
She laughed. “I am not alone. I have a house filled with servants.”
Deerhurst took four steps into the drawing room. He motioned to the spot at his feet, and said with some amusement, “This is where the infamous pistol incident took place?”
“Two steps to the left.”
Deerhurst took two steps to the left. “Here?”
She nodded and grinned. “And it’s not infamous. There are only three people in the world who know about that day’s events.”
“I feel surprisingly honored.”
She pointed to the green velvet settee. “That is where I emptied a cup of scalding tea over Lord Rodale’s lap.”
Deerhurst raised a brow. He hadn’t seen that. “On purpose?”
“He told me I’d be lucky to consider myself Lady Rodale and then proceeded to recount the finer details of his annual income when I know his pockets to be all but empty. The little he does have mostly goes to gambling halls.”
Deerhurst’s gaze swung to her. “How on earth do you know that?”Hedidn’t even know that.
“Ask me anything about my suitors’ annual income. Ferreting out their secrets has become a hobby of sorts.”
Deerhurst instinctively wanted to take a step away from the woman. The idea of her ferreting outhissecrets was a truly terrifying prospect.
She laughed. “What is with that face, Deerhurst? Do you have secrets you wish to hide from me?”
He heard the teasing note in her voice, but his heart still thundered in his ears. He fought for steadiness. Won.
“We all have secrets,” Deerhurst said. “We are keeping one now.”
