As he leaned to speak in her ear, tendrils of her hair tickled his cheek and her breath became uneven. “I prefer you, madam. Perhaps someday you will allow me to prove it.”
He was close enough to hear her swallow. “I—I will take you at your word,” she murmured.
This conversation wasn’t over. Sebastian glanced around the store in search of her escort. “Where is your man?”
“Fergus is waiting outside. He never learned to read and he grows impatient with the bookstore.”
“Meet me on the walkway in a moment.” He took the book from her hands.
“Wait. I wanted to purchase that.”
“Go.” When she blankly stared at him, he made a shooing motion with his hands. “Off with you, madam, before I cause a scene.”
Her lips thinned and he expected he was in for a row, but she turned on her heel and stalked away. Quickly, he selected a book for Eve and retrieved a copy of Le Monde Couture. As the clerk wrapped his and Lady Prestwick’s selections, he had an idea. “Do you have a quill and ink I may use?”
“Yes, milord.” While the clerk retrieved the writing tools, Sebastian unwrapped Lady Prestwick’s book. He used the quill to scribble an inscription on the inside cover and wrapped the book again.
The lady was waiting with her servant just as Sebastian had requested. The Scot merely glanced at him in irritation rather than his usual murderous intent. They were making progress.
Sebastian held up the book. “For you, but please allow me to carry it.”
She pursed her lips, but took his arm when he offered it. He didn’t often walk her home, but it would allow them more time to speak in private. He glanced over his shoulder at her menacing shadow. Well, relative privacy.
Perhaps sensing his reluctance to having an eavesdropper along, Lady Prestwick addressed her servant. “Lord Thorne and I need to speak alone, Fergus. Perhaps you would walk ahead?”
The man nodded. “Aye, milady.” His long strides built distance between them quickly and the crowd swallowed him.
Sebastian’s brows lifted. “Your man is almost agreeable today.”
“Fergus is perfectly agreeable, sir. You, on the other hand, try my patience. Why did you purchase my book? I have the funds.”
He drew her closer as two men jostled past. “I know you do, but I wanted to buy it for you. I rarely buy gifts for ladies, which is in direct conflict with what you believe about my preferences.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Are you calling me a liar?” He held the books over his heart as if he’d been wounded. “Me? A pillar of Society?”
She chuckled, relaxing on his arm. “I didn’t say a word, so how could I have insulted you?”
“Oh, you have your ways.” He winked and she glanced away. “The attraction is mutual. I have no trouble admitting the truth.”
She sighed. “I answered your question. Could we please change the subject?”
For now. But he was far from finished trying to get her in his bed.
***
In silence, Helena and Lord Thorne passed hawkers shouting out their wares and a woman with a basket of flowers. Carriages and wagons clattered along the boulevard in a rush to get to their destinations, while she and the baron strolled arm in arm. The contact sent tingles racing through her.
Fergus kept a respectable distance ahead of them, close enough to provide protection if needed, but far enough away to allow them to speak freely. Only she didn’t know what she wanted to say.
Discussing her attraction to him was out of the question. If she admitted she was drawn to him, it would be a mistake. That would be the first step in becoming another of his conquests, and even though they had no future together, she didn’t relish the thought of him moving on to another lady once he had bedded her. It was best to keep their association friendly, but not too friendly. Then she could return to Scotland no worse for the experience.
The overcast sky provided little respite from the muggy day, and Helena’s undergarments soon grew damp and clung to her body.
“It smells like rain,” she said.
She should ask about Lavinia, but she already knew the answer. After days of receiving nothing but disappointing news, she had learned to read Lord Thorne’s body language. There had been reluctance in the lines around his eyes and the muscles in his arm twitched when she had mentioned changing the subject. Their last two meetings she had begun to sense he shared in her sadness. Although it was most likely a trick of her imagination, she felt he understood her, and her guard was slipping. It was a dangerous development, but she was enjoying his company too much to fortify the wall she had built around her heart.