Page 17 of The Viscount’s Forgery (Bluestocking Book Club #4)

Nicholas shifted on his feet, trying to understand what she meant by this.

“She confessed to me that, when she had shouted to my parents that I was a bluestocking, she had said such a thing out of confusion, fear, and upset. It was not in her heart to do: she had not had any intention of speaking so before then, but in all the tumultuous emotions of that moment, she let herself speak things that she would never have done otherwise.”

With a nod, Nicholas made to open his mouth, only to close it again when Miss Sherwood took a step closer to him, her eyes once more searching his, looking for something within his face.

A sweet scent of lavender drew over him, and a fog began to descend on his mind, though he blinked quickly and forced himself to pay attention to everything she was saying.

“I was utterly astonished by her apology,” Miss Sherwood said, more quietly now. “But she explained to me that her emotions had overwhelmed her and she had not meant to speak as she did. Am I to understand, Lord Suffolk, that you would claim the very same thing?”

Relief began to nudge against Nicholas’ heart. “Yes, I would say that is true,” he admitted. “I was overwhelmed by the suggested truth that my painting was a forgery – not only that one, but others also. In addition, I was a little surprised to hear your confession that you were a bluestocking.”

“But you had heard me say such a thing the previous evening,” Miss Sherwood countered, her head still a little tipped to one side. “Why would it come as such a struggle to you the next morning?”

Nicholas’s jaw tightened. He could not tell her that it had been because of what he felt that he had responded so unkindly.

He could not admit that it had been because his heart had done all manner of strange things when he had looked into her eyes, could not say that it was because of the unsettling stirrings in his heart.

Instead, he spread out his hands. “I think, mayhap, it was simply seeing you again that made the shock of it all return to me. Regardless, Miss Sherwood, I should not have said a word to you in that manner. It was utterly unforgivable.”

The edge of her mouth tipped up lightly. “I suppose it must have been a great struggle to accept that one of your paintings is a forgery. I have been told of just how much value you place in the things you have in your manor house and your townhouse here in London.”

Heat blossomed anew in his face. “That is true, I cannot deny it.”

Miss Sherwood’s smile grew. “You are very good to come and apologize so profusely, Lord Suffolk. I will accept your apology.”

The urge to fall to his knees and thank her was so great, Nicholas felt himself buckling, though he remained standing with an effort. Putting one hand to his heart, he inclined his head towards her. “Thank you, Miss Sherwood.”

“Of course.” Gesturing to her waiting friends, her smile began to dim. “I should return to my friends – the other bluestockings.”

“Wait a moment.” Reaching out, he caught her fingers with his, sending a shockwave up through his arm and over his frame.

The shock in her expression was enough to make him drop her hand, though instantly, the urge to take it again burned through him.

“I apologize, Miss Sherwood, but there is something more I must say.”

“Oh?”

He had not intended this, had not planned to ask her such a thing, but the desire within him would not be silenced. “Might you come to my townhouse and look over the rest of my paintings?”

Miss Sherwood blinked in surprise. “You wish for my help?”

“Yes, desperately,” he said, surprising himself with his fervor. “You say you know a good deal about art whereas I know very little. I have trusted my man with it, but it seems he has purchased me forgeries!”

The lady frowned. “There is also the possibility that your man may be quite innocent, Lord Suffolk. There are at least two other scenarios that I can see which would result in your forged paintings.”

“Oh?”

A quiet laugh broke from Miss Sherwood’s lips. “All in good time, Lord Suffolk. If you require my help, then the other bluestockings will also assist. We have been able to solve a mystery or two already, and I am sure we will be able to help you with this.”

“Yes, of course.” Nicholas was nodding fervently now, feeling that he might well agree with everything and anything Miss Sherwood suggested, given his relief over her acceptance of his apology. “Thank you, Miss Sherwood. Might I expect you tomorrow?”

She began to turn away from him, a smile lingering on her lips, her eyes catching his once more. “Yes, Lord Suffolk. I shall come to you tomorrow. Good evening.”

“Your dance card?”

What am I doing?

Miss Sherwood swung back around to face him, her eyes holding a sparkle of astonishment. “I beg your pardon?”

“Are you dancing this evening?” he asked, his mouth moving of its own accord, a fire igniting his bones as she slowly began to nod. “Then might I be so bold as to ask for it? I feel as though it will reassure me of your forgiveness, should you permit me to step out with you.”

A soft smile brushed across her lips. “You need no reassurance, Lord Suffolk. I am a lady of my word.”

He swallowed thickly. “Please, Miss Sherwood. It would mean a great deal to me.”

Her smile grew. “Then I cannot refuse you,” she answered him, holding out her dance card. “Thank you, Lord Suffolk.”

Some minutes later, Nicholas walked away from the lady, lost in a daze of confusion and relief.

He was glad that she had been so willing to forgive him, but at the same time, lost in the sensations and emotions that had hit him during that brief conversation.

After she had accepted his apology, he had done the most astonishing things, like reaching for her hand and asking for her dance card.

His heart was pounding, his mouth was dry, and yet, all he could think of was her.

No!

Stopping dead, ladies and gentlemen walking around him, Nicholas stared blankly ahead, recalling the way Lord Bothwell had described falling for the other Miss Sherwood.

Surely it cannot be!

Scrubbing one hand over his face, Nicholas tried to breathe normally, but the tightness across his chest would not permit him.

In all of his days, he had never once believed that he would ever find himself falling in love with a young lady of the ton , had never thought that he would be so caught up by her that all of his thoughts and desires were centered upon her…

but was not what was happening? Breathing hard, Nicholas lowered his head and squeezed his eyes closed, an uncomfortable prickling sensation running all over his skin.

He did not want this, did not want to find himself so pulled towards a young lady of the ton, and yet, despite his inner determinations, Nicholas sensed there was nothing he could do to prevent it – and that terrified him utterly.