“As do I,” Merry agreed, suddenly finding herself quite anxious about speaking with Lord Weston come the morrow. What if he was to ask her about Lady Reid? What would she say? And would he come to her defense again if Lady Reid was to attempt to enact one of her threats? Or would he simply stand aside and allow the consequences of such a thing to occur without stepping in?
Tossing her head as though to remove her thoughts, Merry tried to focus on the task at hand. She did not need to think about Lord Weston at the present moment. To give him more of her thoughts would allow him to linger there all the more, and Merry feared that, to do so, might begin to bring up feelings of fondness and affection within her heart, for a taste of such a thing had already begun to make its way into her soul.
She was bewildered enough already without allowing that to occur!
Chapter Eleven
“Good afternoon, Miss Wells.”
It did Thomas’s heart a world of good to see Miss Merry Wells at the door, standing ready and waiting for him. She wore a pale yellow gown that he would not have thought would have suited her—but, as she stepped out into the summer sunshine, he found himself thinking that she looked very well indeed. Her dark tresses were pulled back under her bonnet and a parasol hung from her arm. He bowed as she came down the steps towards him, with another young lady behind her.
“My cousin Dinah thought to accompany us,” she told him, making a stab of disappointment lance his heart. “I do hope that is suitable.”
He began to bluster, realizing that she was simply keeping to the rules of propriety. “But of course,” he replied, stammering a little awkwardly. “That is perfectly suitable, Miss Wells. Please.” He stepped to one side and offered her his hand so that she might climb into the carriage, putting a smile on his face and praying that she did not suspect that his first reaction to hearing that they would not be alone had been one of sheer disappointment.
Miss Wells smiled at him, something flickering in her eyes as she accepted his hand and climbed inside – and Thomas found himself so distracted by the questions that filled his mind over what Miss Wells might be thinking, that he very nearly forgot to assist Miss Wells’ cousin into the carriage. She said nothing, moving quickly and not so much as looking at him as she climbed in. Much to Thomas’s surprise, the girl pulled out a book a
nd began to read almost before Thomas had seated himself in the carriage.
“My cousin is very fond of reading,” Miss Wells said, by way of explanation as the footman shut the carriage door. “Now, which park was it we were to attend?”
Thomas cleared his throat and pushed aside all of his thoughts that came with being in the presence of Miss Wells. “I thought, mayhap, St James’s Park might make for a most agreeable afternoon, Miss Wells,” he replied, seeing her smile and nod as he reached up to rap on the roof. “It will not be particularly busy this afternoon – not as yet at least, although we can remain until it becomes so, if you wish it.”
Miss Wells laughed softly as the carriage began to roll away. “You will find, Lord Weston, that I am not at all inclined towards being seen or to seeing others who come out simply in order to do so,” she replied, lifting her eyes to his. “If you wish it, however, then–”
Silently thinking to himself that it would be best if Lord Wiltshire saw himself and Miss Wells together at some point, Thomas shook his head and let his eyes linger on Miss Wells. “No, I am quite content as I am,” he told her truthfully, a little surprised to realize that he had no eagerness to go in amongst the ton, such as it was. Was it because he did not want to be seen with Miss Wells? Or was it simply because he did not want any distractions when it came to speaking with her?
“You do surprise me, Lord Weston,” Miss Wells murmured, turning her head to look out of the window. “I thought you might wish to be seen by the beau monde.” She lifted one eyebrow at him, and Thomas found himself flushing quickly. “Is that not the case?”
“You know my reputation, it seems,” he replied quickly, his words tumbling over each other. “I will not pretend that I have not enjoyed all that London society has to offer, Miss Wells,” he continued, trying to find a truth he could share with her without informing her of the wager that had taken place almost a fortnight ago. “For the most part, I find myself enjoying society a great deal, and I will not pretend that such a thing is not the case.”
“Remarkably honest, Lord Weston,” she replied, her eyes searching his expression as though she sought to see whether or not there was anything lacking with him. “That is where we differ, I think.”
He could not help but ask her another question, caught up entirely by what she was saying. “You do not care for society then?”
Miss Wells bit her lip and looked out of the carriage window again, clearly unwilling to speak.
“Come now, Miss Wells,” Thomas said encouragingly, hoping that this would encourage the intimacy between them. “You can speak to me of such a thing without embarrassment, surely?”
“It is not embarrassment that keeps me from speaking so,” she replied, looking back at him. “It is, unfortunately, a habit of mine to keep all that I think and feel entirely to myself. Therefore, I am unused to sharing the truths of my heart, and I find it most peculiar that I wish to do so now.” She stopped dead, her mouth a little ajar as she realized what it was she had said. A dusky pink brushed across her cheeks, and Thomas found himself smiling in appreciation of the sight before him.
“I shall not mock you, Miss Wells,” he promised, finding himself more than eager to know what it was that she thought. Rationally, he tried to consider such a desire to be nothing more than a furthering of their acquaintance, which would then aid him in his attempt to win the wager, but his heart began to draw closer to Miss Wells, clearly wanting to know what she thought out of a simple, honest desire to know her better.
Miss Wells let out a long breath, studying him carefully as though she were weighing up the consequences of speaking the truth to him. Thomas felt himself grow tense, although he could not explain why he felt such a way when he was meant to feel nothing for the lady before him. This was all meant to be an act, a façade, a mask. So why then, was he so desirous for her to speak openly to him?
“I suppose there can be no harm in being honest with you, although I fear that my view of society shall differ greatly from yours, Lord Weston, and most likely, you shall argue with me that I am wrong,” she stated, lifting her gaze from his features and letting it settle on the London streets as they passed them. “I shall speak honestly, therefore.”
“Pray, wait a moment,” he said, seeing the carriage drawing close to St James’s Park. “For we are almost at the park, and I should not wish you to be interrupted.”
Miss Wells looked surprised at this but smiled at him after a moment, and Thomas found himself smiling back. He did not know why he felt such a warmth in his soul knowing that she had decided to be honest with him about what she thought of London society, but he allowed the feeling to spread through him regardless. It lingered in his heart as he dismounted from the carriage and took Miss Wells’ hand as she climbed down also. Her cousin decided to stay within the carriage, although Miss Wells made sure to promise that they would remain in sight of her.
Thomas was more than grateful for that, feeling himself glad that he would be able to walk alone with Miss Wells for a time.
“You were to be honest with me,” he began, as they stepped out along the path together. “What think you of the beau monde?”
Miss Wells gave him a rueful smile. “You will berate me, I am certain of it.”
He laughed and, before he could prevent himself, offered her his arm. Miss Wells looked a trifle surprised at this but accepted him without hesitation, which in turn brought a broad grin to Thomas’s face. He looked down at her, their gazes meeting for a long moment, before Miss Wells cleared her throat gently and turned her head away. Thomas was left feeling a little lost within himself, astonished to realize that he had been enjoying her smiles and forcing himself to reconsider the present situation as it stood. He was meant to be encouraging this intimacy so that he might win the wager, nothing more. Any feelings that rose within him regarding Miss Wells should be discarded at once.