Page 18 of Courting Miss Lancaster
“I informed him that I only agreed to drive out with him because I could not think of a way to refuse that would not have been unforgivably rude,” Athena informed him. “And that, had he not asked me in a room full of people whose opinions matter to me, I should have turned him down regardless.”
“You said that to him?” Harry was impressed. He knew Persephone was pluck to the backbone but hadn’t realized Athena had quite so much steel in her.
“For all the good it did.” She waved a hand dismissively. “Either he wasn’t listening or he didn’t understand or simply refused to believe that his invitation had not been eagerly accepted.”
“I would vote for the last possibility.” Harry chuckled. “Peterbrook’s opinion of himself is far too high to admit any kind of rejection.”
“It was a very long carriage ride.” Athena sighed.
An invitation hovered on Harry’s lips. How he would enjoy taking her for a jaunt through the park, absorbing the delight of her company, inhaling the scent of violets that followed her wherever she went. But he did not own a single carriage. He had a horse but didn’t dare risk spoiling it for riding by hitching it to a conveyance. And there was something decidedly lowering about driving Athena about in a borrowed or hired carriage—he would essentially be demonstrating how unacceptable his suit would be. He might as well parade about with a sign hung from his neck delineating his inadequate yearly income and the dilapidated state of his home.
“Haven’t you any friends who are not puffed up by their own consequence?” Athena interrupted in his moment of self-pity.
“Plenty,” Harry assured her.
“Then perhaps you would be so good as to introduce me tothem,” Athena suggested.
“Mr. Jonas Handley will be at the theater this evening, I understand.” Harry tried to make the declaration sound like a coincidence he’d only just realized. “He is not, I assure you, arrogant.”
“Is he obsessed with trees?” Athena asked dryly.
Harry chuckled. “He is well-spoken and conversant on many topics.”
“Perfect.” Athena sighed with obvious relief.
Harry smiled more broadly.Don’t count on it, Athena.
q
Athena was inarguably aware of the fact that Persephone and Adam were not paying a jot of attention to the performance.The back of the box, where they had situated themselves, was decidedly dark, and Persephone and Adam were as near to beingbehindthe curtain as possible without actually being out of the box. Athena had seen Adam take Persephone’s hand in the moment before the curtain rose on the stage, and whispers, interspersed with the occasional quiet giggle, had continuously drifted forward to where Athena sat.
“I believe your sister is a good influence on Adam,” Harry said, leaning over, allowing his whisper to not be overheard.
“Goodinfluence?” she whispered back with disbelief. “I swear I have never blushed so much in all my life.”
There was enough light for Athena to see that Harry was smiling. “He has done nothing more than hold her hand.”
“Then why is she” —a quiet giggle floated around the box— “gigglinglike that?”
“Likewhat?”
“I passed the book room once when they were cuddling.” Athena was sure she was blushing all over again. “Persephone was giggling then.”
“And you do not think that holding her hand would be enough to make her giggle?”
“Hardly,” Athena answered. She had occasionally held a gentleman’s hand in the course of a dance. She had even held Harry’s hand briefly that afternoon in the drawing room. She couldn’t imagine that small amount of contact affecting her the way Harry claimed it was impacting Persephone.
“I assume, then, Mr. Peterbrook didn’t hold your hand during your drive,” Harry said.
“He didn’t even hold my interest.”
Harry chuckled quietly. In the dim light of the theater Athena felt Harry’s hand slip beneath her own, his fingers wrapping gently around hers. It was unexpected and, truth be told, not entirely appropriate. If he had been anyone other than Harry,whom she considered a very dear friend and, therefore, entirely safe, she would have quite vocally objected.
“What are you doing, Harry?” she asked, even laughing a little in her surprise.
“I am only holding your hand, Athena,” he answered with a tone of indifference she didn’t at all trust. He’d used that tone before, usually when he was amused by something but didn’t intend to let her in on the joke right away. “It is perfectly harmless. Or so you have claimed.”
Athena was about to offer a joking rejoinder but realized Harry’s attention had shifted back to the stage. He had not, however, released her hand. She shrugged and shifted her eyes back to the actors plodding through their roles.
