“Excellent plan,” he said easily. “But did you hear what I said?”
She tore her gaze from Giles, who appeared far too cheerful for a brooding loner, devil take him. “You apologized when you didn’t have to. I’m acting like a witch.”
“Never.”
“You’re too kind,” she said, with her first real smile since he’d joined her on the piano stool.
Paul could be a little smug—a boy coddled by his late parents and generally lauded as a paragon of looks and behavior would hardly grow up to be anything else. But he had a good heart. He wasn’t spiteful, and he didn’t bear grudges. Even when her childish adoration had become an embarrassment to his adolescent self, he’d remained carelessly kind.
His uncharacteristic seriousness persisted. “I have something important to say to you, Serena. I hope after Christmas, you’ll have time and attention to give me a hearing.”
Her step faltered, and her stomach dropped about a mile. Not with excitement. “Paul…”
She couldn’t mistake his meaning. After years of wanting Paul Garside to notice her, her prayers had been answered. She needed no snares and stratagems after all. Giles had been right. Her quarry was willing to come to her hand.
And the thought made her feel sick.
It was time to have a stern word with herself about constancy.
Then she needed to fall on her knees to the Almighty and offer humble thanks for making all her dreams come true.
But what on earth could she say now? Luckily, Paul’s unfailing self-confidence rescued her.
“Cat got your tongue, Serena?” With a tender smile, he touched her cheek, despite the fact that they were surrounded with people. “That doesn’t often happen. I feel quite proud of myself.”
“I…”
Blast. She sounded a complete nitwit.
His laugh conveyed the affection she’d never doubted. “As I said, this isn’t the right time. But wear a pretty dress on Boxing Day and don’t stray far from that impressive kissing bough. I have plans for it—and for you.”
Before she could dredge up some response, it was their turn to separate again. Thank heaven for the dance’s complicated steps.
The moment she left Paul’s side, Serena sucked in a deep breath, but nothing shifted the stubborn lump of dread lodged in her chest.
Chapter 7
Giles heard Serena’s quick step as he waited in the stable yard, holding the saddled horses. With the late winter sunrise, it was still dark, so the rendezvous held a delightfully clandestine air.
“Giles, you’re ready for me.”
For the life of him, he couldn’t tell whether she was pleased to see him or not, as she walked into the circle of light the lantern cast from above the stable doors. “It seemed unfair to disturb the grooms.”
Although a groom had poked his head out from the rooms upstairs to check that nobody was stealing Sir George’s fine bloodstock at this unearthly hour. When he saw Giles, who had hung around the Talbot stables since boyhood, he’d grunted a greeting and shuffled back to bed.
“Unfair, not to mention indiscreet.” They spoke in whispers, heightening the conspiratorial atmosphere. It was deathly cold, and their breath formed clouds before their mouths.
“Well, yes.” This time he couldn’t mistake Serena’s sour tone. As he led her horse forward, he cast her a puzzled glance. His horse was well trained enough to stand waiting. “Would you rather we didn’t go?”
She sighed. “I keep forgetting that you’re a rake, and intrigues like this are second nature to you.”
He frowned. “You asked for my help because I’m a rake.”
“That’s true. It’s unjust to criticize your worldliness when I’m taking advantage of it.”
“Quite so.” He caught her around the waist, surprising a gasp out of her.
“What are you doing?”