He was not going to have to quell the frightened nerves of a young miss meeting a strange man in the hallway.
He considered several options, but in the end, he’d decided a direct warning was the only safe measure. But it was dangerous. One never knew how the young lady might respond after all.
Given his demeanor, there was every chance she might scream the house down.
Not this one. This one was cool as ice and looked as if she’d already assessed him head to toe with one long glance.
It had startled him… and awakened something in him quite shocking… curiosity. He wanted to know how she had become so cool, so clearly capable, and ready to meet him head-on.
Tom eyed the young lady, taking her in from the top of her head to the tips of her slippers. Her blonde hair was coiled carefully atop her head, her eyes shown in the darkness and her posture was positively rigid.
Perfect.
It was a good word, perfect to a point of fault. She looked as if she was holding herself like a statue. Immovable, cold, impenetrable. There was something about her that looked as if she had forged herself from stone, squashing any spark of fire that dared leap within her. Yet she was no limp creature.
She was holding on for dear life… it struck him then, like a bolt of the sky. All this perfection? It was a mask.
And he wanted to slip that mask off and see who was beneath.
It was an absurd thought.
Her lips parted ever so slightly. Her steely blue eyes met his and she stated, “We are not acquainted.”
“No,” he agreed, hiding his approval of her bold treatment. “Lady Elizabeth, we are not. Yet I found it more important I come and meet you than to worry about such trivialities.”
“They are not trivialities,” she countered coolly. “Gentlemen who have not been introduced may not speak to young ladies.”
“Ah,” he said, quirking a brow. “But I am—”
“Not a gentleman,” she cut in, apparently predicting exactly what he was about to say easily.
“Correct.” He gave her a slight bow. “You have already assessed it.”
“How can one not?” She said, blinking. “It is clear to me that you are not a gentleman.”
“Oh indeed?” he queried, cocking his head to the side, unoffended. “Most cannot tell.”
“Truly,” she asked without arrogance. “I could tell the moment I heard your voice.”
“Ah,” He nodded. “You are superior then in every way, Lady Elizabeth. Even in your ability to sniff out an interloper.”
She tensed. “I did not mean. I—”
He lifted a hand, surprised and shockingly relieved that she had not meant to put him in his place. “I have heard this about you.”
She frowned. “And?” She whispered.
“You are proving to match the tales told.”
“I do not know what tales are told,” she breathed, “but I do know this. I have never heard a voice like yours cut through the darkness. And you’ve approached a young lady who is but newly into her first season in the hall in the dark. You call me Lady Elizabeth without having sought out someone to introduce you.”
She shook her head, and for the first moment, there was fear in her eyes. She blinked it away. “That tells me all that I need to know. That you are not a gentleman, and that I should not be in your company. So, forgive me, I must leave you—”
He held out his ungloved hand, urging her to stay. “No, Lady Elizabeth, I sought you out in shadow for a reason.”
She tensed, her breath catching in her throat.
“Not for a nefarious reason,” he assured quickly.