“No one else seems to be able to. Can you help me understand my book? With you, perhaps I can make sense of its instruction.”
Though he looked perplexed, he nodded.
Her heart fluttered, and a longing so intense hit her that it was almost painful. Suddenly, she found herself wishing that it was he who would be her husband. That it was he who would take her in his arms, and that it was he who would be finally captivated by her.
For always.
Chapter 6
Feeling completely mystified by his current circumstance, Peter reached out and took her hand in his.
The delicate touch of her gloved hand did something to him. The warmth of her fingers, even through the linen, sent a jolt up his arm. He did not know what to do with that sensation. He’d never experienced it, not even in his most romantic moments with other ladies.
This was something entirely different.
And he found himself holding on tight to her, as if he was afraid to let her go. It was preposterous. But the kiss, the touch—it was more. It was greater than anything he’d ever experienced, which was absolute madness because she was Edmund’s sister, and nothing could happen between them.
And yet ...
Ophelia had made it quite plain that she was attempting to find a husband. And he was the worst possible choice for her, wasn’t he?
No, he’d assist her, just as he’d promised. He’d do everything he could to find her a good man. That was what a friend would do. And hewouldbe her friend. He felt it in his heart—an affinity that was taking root and couldn’t be denied.
She needed a friend, after all, if no one else was willing to help her find a husband. Her mother certainly hadn’t been able to do it, and perhaps it was because no one understood her. He felt that he did. He felt that he saw her in a way that no one else did, and it was both frightening and revelatory.
“Come,” he said. “Let’s go inside. We mustn’t linger.”
She gave a nod. “Thank you,” she said, her voice full of hope now and something he couldn’t quite identify that reached his heart. “Thank you, Peter.”
He longed to take her in his arms again, but he knew the dangers of it. So he turned and headed back towards the house.
But as soon as he stepped across the threshold into the hall, a fist came out of the darkness and slammed into his jaw.
He jolted back straight into Ophelia.
She let out a cry of surprise, clasping him from behind, and they both nearly went over onto the pavement. But he caught himself and staggered to his feet. Keeping her upright with his arm, protecting her from a fall.
“You bloody bastard,” Edmund roared, stepping out of the shadows into moonlight. “What the devil do you think you’re doing with my sister?”
His exclamation caused such a clamor that feet thundered towards them, a veritable audience as good as any Drury Lane theater.
Several guests crowded into the hall, their eyes white and their faces pale in the bare light.
Peter let out a low exclamation of horror. This couldn’t be happening. This was exactly what he and Ophelia wished to avoid. For they had no ill intent.
But in the eyes of the ton, intent meant nothing.
“I ought to murder you. You’ve ruined her,” Edmund roared again.
“I’ve not,” Peter protested, even as he knew the weakness of his argument.
“I saw you,” Edmund countered fiercely, like a loyal brother should. “You cannot argue with what I saw.”
“No, Edmund. No. It’s not like that at all,” Ophelia insisted as Peter shielded her. “You see, I’m attempting to learn how to ...”
Edmund cut her with a quick gaze. “I don’t want to know what you’re learning to do with someone likehim, because he is not someone you should be spending time with.”
“But he’s your friend,” she protested.