Robert let out his breath slowly, realizing that he had been sharp with her, lost in his anger and shock. “Forgive me for speaking so harshly,” he said, softly, moving a little closer to her. “I have had some less than helpful news and I allowed my emotions to crash over towards you. You did not find his handkerchief, did you say?”
She nodded. “I looked everywhere,” she answered, her gaze steady and no sign of any distress about her expression. “I searched his rooms and his study, but there was nothing of note there. His handkerchiefs were all laid out for me, for I told the valet that I wanted to purchase another for my brother and was eager to see what colors and the like he had at present.” She lifted her shoulders. “There was none with an emblem upon it.”
“I see.” He had to trust her, had to take her at her word but there was still a hint of suspicion there. Whilst he knew that she could not have been the horse and rider that had practically flung his carriage from the road, knew that she could not have been the person to ensure Lord Caravel had been thrown from his horse, he did not have enough faith in himself to give her his full trust. Not as yet, anyway.
“However,” Miss Hemmingway murmured, her eyes now holding a good deal of confusion, her gaze drifting away from his, “I did realize something, as I came to search my brother’s study.”
“Oh?”
She gave him a small, slightly embarrassed smile. “Pray do not mock my foolishness, but I have wondered how, if you were in my brother’s study and did not see him, he also then came out of the very same door as you some minutes later.” She tilted her head and looked at him. “You could not have entered nor searched that room if he was present, but I am quite certain that he did not enter the study after you had left.”
A deep frown caught Robert’s brow. “That is an excellent question, Miss Hemmingway,” he told her, thinking quickly. “I confess, I had not even allowed myself a moment to consider it.” He chewed his lip for a moment, aware that her eyes were on him and finding himself caught between wanting to return her gaze and wanting to find a suitable answer to the question she had asked.
“I do not think the townhouse has any passages or the like, that I do not know of,” Miss Hemmingway continued, when he said nothing. “I might very well be mistaken, but I do not believe that I am.”
He lifted his brow. “And have you searched the study for such a door?”
Now it was her turn to frown. “No,” she answered, quietly. “No, I have not.”
“Then mayhap we should.”
Her brow lifted and a small smile caught the corner of her mouth. “Indeed?”
It had been a little presumptuous of him, he knew, but there was nothing he could do but press on. “Given the severity of the situation, I do not think it wise for you to search for something alone,” he told her, as Miss Hemmingway lifted her chin a notch, perhaps thinking that he meant to suggest she was not strong enough to do so. “Not because I fear you might be too weak or the like, but rather because my concern for your safety, should there be a such a passage, is very great indeed.” He saw her gaze soften, her shoulders lowering. “After what has happened to Lord Caravel, I must do all I can to protect you.” Without fully intending to do so, he stepped closer and put one hand out to her arm, just his fingertips resting there. “I want to trust you, Miss Hemmingway, and yet I fear for myself if I do so. I have already brought pain to one friend. I do not wish to do so again.”
Miss Hemmingway reached with her free hand and clasped his, sending a sudden shudder all through him—something that felt both strange and welcoming at the same time.
“I have nothing but respect for you, Lord Franks,” she told him, earnestly. “I wish I could prove to you that I have no involvement in this, so that you might see me as an ally rather than a possible enemy. My brother is the one in trouble, I am sure of it, b
ut I would rather help you so that he, in time, might be given the help I am certain he requires.” Her lip trembled and Robert felt the overwhelming urge to crush her in his arms, compelling himself to remain standing by sheer force of will. “I have searched my brother’s house. I have looked high and low for what you require but have found nothing. If I had, I would have brought it to you at once, I swear it to you.”
“I—I can see the earnestness in your eyes,” he said, quietly, feeling her fingers rubbing back and forth gently across his own and wondering why his heart had quickened so. Sighing heavily, he looked down but did not pull his hand away. “Very well, Miss Hemmingway. If it is to my detriment, then so be it. I shall trust that you are as you say.”
Her face split with a smile, her eyes brightening and the sadness being chased away by it. He felt her squeeze his hand wordlessly and, despite his own sense of trepidation, smiled back at her.
“Now,” he said, softly. “I know that your brother has given me his consent for me to call upon you, so he will think nothing of my appearance at his townhouse tomorrow. Indeed, I have also been invited to a small soiree next week at your brother’s townhouse!” He frowned, recalling Lady Hamilton. “But what of your mother?”
Miss Hemmingway released his hand and held her hands in front of her, although her smile still remained. “She will be out with Lady Arbuckle,” she told him. “And I might ask Lady Callander to join me, although she might very well be glad to allow us to speak in private.”
Robert sighed, having forgotten until Miss Hemmingway had mentioned her by name that another young lady also knew of the ‘League’ although certainly not in any great depth.
“It may be that I shall have to speak to her also,” he said, a trifle gloomily. “But mayhap not in any particular detail.”
Miss Hemmingway nodded. “I think she will be glad of that,” she said, softly. “And now, I should return to my mother, I think. I am sure she will be looking –”
“Mayhap you would like to dance?”
The words came from his mouth before he could prevent them and, from the look in Miss Hemmingway’s eyes, she was as stunned as he. It did not mean that he took them back, however, nor made some excuse for what he had said, but rather that he found his heart very eager indeed to have her as his partner for this dance.
“I do not think I am engaged,” she said, slowly, looking down at her dance card and evidently seeing no name written there. “Are you quite certain, Lord Franks?”
He nodded fervently. “Indeed, Miss Hemmingway, I am very certain indeed,” he told her, warmly. “Given that we are meant to be courting, I am sure that your brother and mayhap your mother would be very pleased indeed to see such a thing.”
Miss Hemmingway laughed softly, although it did not quite reach her eyes. “I fear that you might soon be obliged to do a little more than courtship, Lord Franks,” she told him, as he took her arm. “You must be on your guard!”
He laughed with her, although, much to his surprise, he realized that the idea of courting Miss Hemmingway, with her pale blue eyes and bright smile, brought a sense of satisfaction to him, a sense of contentment. It was as though part of him truly did wish for such a thing, even though he knew there could be nothing of the like between them. He was not the sort to marry—not yet, at least—and he was quite sure that Miss Hemmingway could find someone a good deal better than a mere Baron from Scotland!
And yet, when he took her in his arms and began to twirl around the floor for the waltz, he felt his heart lift to the skies. This was wondrous and joyful. The way she took each step with him, moving without faltering and making certain to allow him to lead, made him feel all the more as though she were meant to be where she was at present; meant to be in his arms and perhaps, in his heart.