He’d planned on waiting to take
the next step in his carefully considered campaign until they were closer to her lodgings—so if she declined and things grew awkward, they wouldn’t have far to go in each other’s company—but now, he realized there would be much more noise and a lot of other distractions the farther they went.
It was more peaceful here, on the west bank of the Frome, and his natural impulsiveness was pushing and prodding him to take advantage of the moment and ask her now.
Surreptitiously, he cleared his throat, then, in an even tone, ventured, “There’s to be a classical music concert at the Council House hall this Friday evening. I wondered if, enjoying music as you do, you would like to accompany me to the event.”
She turned her head and looked at him. For several seconds, she simply stared, and he was unable to read anything at all in her face.
Trepidation welled, and his gut chilled. “I thought,” he offered, having to restrain himself from babbling, “that with the entire outing in public, as it were, it would be entirely above board, and you wouldn’t require a chaperon.” He’d intended explaining that before actually asking her.
She blinked up at him.
For the first time in his life, he understood what being on tenterhooks felt like.
Then her eyes focused on his, and a smile curved her lips. “Thank you.” She dipped her head and faced forward. “I would enjoy that.”
He felt ridiculously pleased—as if he’d succeeded in securing far more than her agreement to attend a concert.
Given her previous view of him, perhaps he had.
He could hope that her acceptance meant she’d laid aside all previous judgments of him and had, at least to some degree, reassessed.
As he steered her through the crowd on the Butts and on toward the steps to the drawbridge, he told himself it was only a small victory—a public concert, for heaven’s sake!
He still felt thrilled that she’d agreed to go with him.
They covered the distance to her office with both of them smiling—in her case, with her habitual serenity, in his, rather inanely.
He escorted her to her office and, propping his shoulder against the door frame, watched as she tidied papers and files away.
Sylvia hoped she was putting things away in the right places. She was operating entirely by rote, her mind scrambling to adjust to a reality that, despite their recent equable interactions, she hadn’t allowed herself to contemplate.
Going to a public concert with Lord Kit Cavanaugh. Walking into the Council House hall on his arm, beneath the interested eyes of the cream of local society...
Did he realize that was what it would be like? Did he have any inkling how local society would interpret such a sighting?
She ducked her head, swallowing the scoffing sound she’d nearly given vent to. Of course, he realized. He might not be the rakehell she’d imagined him, but he’d been raised within the ton. He understood the nuances of social behavior very likely better than she did.
Almost certainly better than she did...
Him asking her to accompany him did mean what she thought it meant, didn’t it?
For a second, uncertainty rose and shook her, then she realized she was merely giddy.
Hardly surprising when a situation she’d fantasized about—admittedly with a very different imaginary man—was on the cusp of coming true. And with a gentleman who was much more to her taste than her imaginary lord had ever been.
Placing a stack of papers in her bottom drawer, she glanced at her desktop and found it cleared. She drew in a deep breath and straightened. She had to get a grip on her wayward senses before she did something truly foolish—like smile at him with stars in her eyes.
She looked at him and smiled—and fought to ensure it was an appropriate expression rather than one too revealing. “There’s nothing more I need to do here.” She picked up her reticule and walked toward the door.
He watched her approach, then stepped back and waved her into the corridor. “In that case, I’ll escort you wherever you intend to go.”
She had intended to pick up some laundry, but that seemed far too mundane an activity to do with him by her side.
They stepped onto the pavement of Broad Street, and he offered her his arm. She took it, feeling steel beneath her fingertips, then hesitated.
He glanced at her face. “Your lodgings?”