“Alec!”
“Actually, Andy plays the pianoforte,” volunteered Caro. “Quite well in fact.”
Andover looked a little embarrassed. “Oh, no, not really. I dabble, that is all.”
“Men,” huffed Caro, fixing her friend with a quizzical look. “Why are all of you so reluctant to admit to an interest in anything that doesn’t involve firearms, horses, or hounds?”
“In many circles, it isn’t considered very manly to be enthusiastic about the arts,” admitted Andover.
“Then perhaps you are spending time with the wrong people,” replied Caro.
He smiled. “Miss Caro is passionate about literature, especially poetry, Lord Strathcona, so—”
“I am aware of that fact,” said Alec dryly.
“Lord Strathcona is also passionate about prose and verse.” Her flash of teeth was quite likely not meant as a smile. “Though he takes great pains to keep it a secret.”
“It’s true,” said his sister. “Beneath his stony scowls, he has a very sensitive soul.”
“I suppose I deserved that for the chatty comment,” he growled.
“Yes,” shot back Isobel. “You did.”
Andover’s mouth twitched, but he was sensible enough to remain silent. As for Caro’s reaction, it was impossible to gauge, for she had turned away to watch the dancing.
“Perhaps it’s time for us to return home,” he drawled. “Before you make any more embarrassing revelations.”
His sister’s eyes flared in alarm. “Oh, I was just teasing.”
“As was I.”
Isobel let out a sigh of relief.
“However, I think it wise that you don’t overexert yourself,” he added softly.
Andover cleared his throat. “As to that sir, I have asked your sister if she would like to see the organ at Bath Abbey on the morrow. That is, if she’s not feeling too fatigued. It was built in 1708 and has twenty stops spread over three manuals. One and a half octaves of pedals were added during the renovation in 1802, and…”
A rueful grimace squeezed his words to a stop. “Sorry—I tend to get carried away. But it is considered a very magnificent instrument. And the Abbey itself is a historic cathedral.”
“I have a feeling wild horses could not keep my sister from the outing,” replied Alec.
“Excellent! Then with your permission, I will call at your townhouse at two.”
He nodded.
“Oh, you must join us, Caro,” exclaimed Isobel.
“Thank you,” she replied. “It sounds like a lovely afternoon.”
The invitation, noted Alec, was not extended to include him.
Just as well. From now on, he meant to stay far away from Caro Sloane. He couldn’t afford the distraction.
Or the temptation.
Chapter Five
Sunlight filtered in through the stained glass windows, dappling the high arches in flickering patterns of pastel colors. Caro watched for a moment longer, her own thoughts mirroring the erratic play of the hues dipping and dancing over the carved limestone. Then, lowering her gaze, she retreated into the shadows of the nave.