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On the opposite bench, the cloaked lady’s eyes widened in surprise. She was very beautiful. No wonder Theodore favored her.
“Lola, this is Lady Margaret, Fremont’s sister,” Theodore explained. “At Margaret’s request, I brought her to see where the incident happened.”
Lola noticed his careful choice of words. He must care for the lady deeply. Sincere compassion colored his reply. Lola understood. She was no stranger to pain. “I’m very sorry for your loss. I’m sure your brother did not suffer.”
“How do you know?” Margaret asked quickly.
“Did you see something that night?” Theodore asked, his voice quiet, but resolute.
“I would be a fool to look anywhere other than the rope.” She glanced between the two of them.
“From the platform then?” He persisted.
“By the time I finished walking the rope, it was already over.”
“And how do you know that?” He asked.
“I heard the screams. The evening was busy. The night was like any other until I heard the screams.”
Margaret sniffled, but she didn’t cry. Lola was impressed with her fortitude. Her eyes fell to where Margaret clasped her hands, the glimmer of a betrothal ring catching the light.
“You are engaged?” She asked, because she couldn’t leave that question unanswered.
“I am in mourning,” Margaret replied, her eyes going to Theodore. “But next year…”
Margaret didn’t finish and Lola turned toward Theodore now.He was engaged.It was a puzzle piece that didn’t fit because the attraction between herself and Theodore was a force beyond control, a dangerous force, and yet was it possible he had feelings for another?
Anything was possible.
“Margaret and Viscount Sidmouth will delay their plans for the sake of propriety, but no doubt it will be an extraordinarily special day when it arrives,” he clarified, somehow understanding what she really wished to know.
Theodore knocked on the roof and the carriage jerked into motion immediately.
“Where are we going?”
“We’ll take Margaret home. She shouldn’t be out of the house.” A rumble of thunder punctuated his sentence.
“Theodore is a dear friend for indulging me,” Margaret said after a time. “He has always behaved as an additional brother whether I’ve liked it or not.”
Lola nodded in reply, unsure what to think as Margaret glanced back and forth between her and the earl. Nothing else was said and Lola wondered why Theodore didn’t break theunbearable silence. His leg still pressed against hers, firm and insistent, making her body grow hot from the inside out. He had to be aware how their legs rubbed so intimately. Didn’t it cause in him the same sensual reaction she experienced? It was nearly unbearable, yet she didn’t want to move away.
Eventually, the carriage rolled to a stop before a grand two-story town house with a Portland stone façade. There was a crescent shaped terrace with wrought iron railings that reminded Lola of her childhood bedchambers. She smiled despite herself. Too many times she’d found trouble climbing down from that landing.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” Theodore said, breaking through her thoughts. “I’m going to walk Margaret to the door.”
Lola said goodbye and Margaret quickly stepped down from the carriage. Thunder sounded, accompanied with a flash of lightning. Poor weather would ruin a show for this evening. Lola didn’t mind.
When the rain began, it startled her. Huge, unforgiving drops struck the roof, pummeling the wood in a determined rhythm. She moved the damask curtain aside and peered out the window again, but there was nothing for it. The skies had opened up with a vengeance.
A moment later, Theodore returned, flinging open the carriage door and climbing inside as if he could escape the downpour. He sat on the bench opposite her this time but all that did is offer her a better view of him. His shirt was soaked through, the thin white linen translucent against the muscular outline of his broad shoulders. He half-smiled, seemingly amused by the circumstances, and combed his fingers through his hair, slicking the strands back away from his face though a few droplets clung to the unruly lengths near his collar. She inhaled slowly, his spicy cologne all the more prominent in thedamp air. She swallowed, that insistent throb of desire once again making itself known.
He knocked on the roof, the wheels turning before she could recover her bearings.
“You’re all wet.” She could never confess she was as well.
“I am.” His voice was low and intimate. “It happened suddenly.”
She knew that feeling too. The pull between them was palpable. Her hands trembled where they rested on the bench. She wasn’t one to be overset by emotion. She made decisions and acted on them. She always remained in control. But this, this was something else entirely.