Her gaze fluttered away from his, as if she had read his thoughts. Her cheeks brightened with color in the dim light from the house behind them.
“Good night,” he managed to croak out, and then did what he had to do. He rode away from her.
And was glad it wasn’t for the last time after all.
CHAPTER 6
Flora knew she shouldn’t be so excited about an afternoon at the museum. After all, she’d been there many times, enjoyed many exhibits with her husband and friends. And wasn’t that all Roarke Desmond was? A friend. A new friend. But a friend, nonetheless. Anything else that her body felt when she was close to him was merely a biological response. She could ignore that.
But no matter how many times she repeated that to herself, let the word friend hang in her brain…always with a question mark after it…it didn’t ring true. So she had changed her gown five times, fixed and refixed her hair, fiddled with jewelry and pinched her cheeks and checked the clock until all she could hear was its loud, echoing, accusatory tick in her head.
What was she doing?
Yes, of course, her lady’s maid, Joy, would be with her. There was nothing untoward about going to a public exhibit with a gentleman. Of course people would whisper, but they whispered anyway. In the end, this excursion was harmless.
And yet it didn’t feel harmless. It felt thrilling and exciting and a little like a betrayal of the marriage vows she’d taken so long ago. Ones that certainly didn’t carry forward into her widowhood. But she could call Roarke her friend all day long and make excuses, but she knew she didn’t want him for a friend. She wanted to spend time with him and have him spear her with that incredibly intense stare that seemed to curl her toes in her slippers.
She heard a knock at the front door and staggered to a stop in her pacing of the front parlor. He was here. He was early. Did that mean he was as eager as she was to spend time together? And if so, what did that mean? Did she have to do something? Her marriage had been arranged, papers signed by men of power with little thought to her wants or needs.
If something did happen with Roarke Desmond, that would be at her own choice and pleasure. So how did one proceed with such a thing?
“Your Grace?”
She clasped her hands together and looked at Hendricks with as much serenity as she could muster under the circumstances of her racing mind and heart. “Yes?”
“The Duchess of Tunbridge is here to see you,” he said.
It was as if someone had deflated Flora. She felt her face fall and hated herself for it. Of course she was pleased to see Bernadette. She likely needed to see a friend, an actual friend with no question mark after that label, in order to get her mind right.
“Of course. Send her to me.”
Hendricks inclined his head, and within less than a minute Bernadette entered the room, a bright smile on her face. One that fell the instant she saw Flora. “Oh goodness, what is that expression?” she asked.
Flora shook her head. “Nothing at all. I’m sorry to be a rude hostess, but I am going to be leaving soon. Mr. Desmond and I are to go to—”
Bernadette caught her breath. “Oh, heavens! The Pembroke exhibit. How could I have forgotten? I’m so sorry!”
“Nothing to be sorry about,” Flora said. She caught her breath to say more. To confess her tangled feelings to Bernadette, but they wouldn’t seem to come out. She didn’t know how to say what she felt. What she was experiencing. And she didn’t want to be seen differently for those feelings if she did find the words to speak them.
So instead she caught her breath. “You—you should come with us!” she burst out, and immediately hated herself for the suggestion. It made it all too clear that she didn’t want to share her time with Roarke. Which in turn made it more obvious she needed to do just that.
“Come with you?” Bernadette repeated blankly. “Why in the world would you suggest such a thing? Are you merely trying to put up walls between you and this man?”
Of course that was exactly why, but Flora folded her arms. “What a ridiculous notion. Mr. Desmond and I barely know each other. He means nothing to me.”
Bernadette pursed her lips. “I know you and Valaria think I’m a bit innocent. And perhaps I am. But I’m not a fool, you know. I can see that you did your hair just so. It looks lovely, by the way.”
Flora touched her hair without thinking and then frowned. “I only wanted to look nice for the exhibit.”
“And you’re wearing the gown that best shows off your figure. And your eyes are fearful, but if I say Roarke…there, they dance just the tiniest bit.” She moved forward and caught Flora’s hands. “It is fine for this to mean something, Flora. You’ve been a widow a long time and if you choose to move forward, that is your right. It’s also fine to have attraction that means nothing deeper than that you wish to spend time in the company of a handsome man. All of it is fine and you shouldn’t wind yourself up in such knots trying to make it unimportant.”
Flora’s breath hitched and she blinked at the sudden stinging behind her eyes. “I don’t know what to do if it means something. If I want something.”
Bernadette’s gaze softened, but she didn’t get to say anything else. There was another knock at the door, and this time they both knew it was Roarke, right on time now.
Hendricks brought him to the room, and Flora noted his surprise to see Bernadette, even though he said, “Ah, Your Graces. What a pleasure to find two such lovely ladies waiting for me.”
Bernadette smiled. “You are too kind. I hear you are taking Flora to the Pembroke exhibit. It should be wonderful. All of London is abuzz about it.”
There was a brief moment where Roarke’s eyes moved to Flora and she saw a flaring heat there. But then it was gone. Perhaps she had imagined it. “Yes,” he said slowly.
“Well, I shall leave you to it and head back home for my own afternoon.” She linked arms with Flora and together they all walked to the foyer. They had decided to take her carriage because Roarke only had his horse. Joy appeared from seemingly nowhere and stood by the carriage door, ready to take her place as chaperone.
“Let me help you,” Roarke said to her softly, stepping away from Bernadette and Flora to do just that.
When he was out of earshot, Bernadette leaned in closer. “Just have fun, Flora. Don’t make it more complicated than that.”
She nodded and let Bernadette release her. Her friend waved to them both and then started up the Row back to her home.
Roarke turned back to Flora and his gaze flitted over her. “You look lovely.”
She shifted slightly and tried not to run her hands over herself reflexively. “Thank you.”
He offered a hand and she stared at it. His fingers were encased on brown leather gloves, but she knew when she touched him that she’d feel the reaction anyway. She had the last time she’d taken his arm. A thrill and a terror all at once. Something that made her far too aware of her own body and the nearness of him.
“Thank you again,” she croaked, and finally took his extended fingers, leaning slightly on him as she took her place beside Joy in the carriage. Roarke his across from Flora. She noted how his bigger body filled the seat, how his shiny boot rested just next to her slipper.