Page 5 of Holly & Folly

How could she explain her reluctance? One simply did not regale a stranger with one’s history of imprudence.

“I will go with you,” she said, “but we should not enter together.”

His amusement increased, and he gave a little bow, then put his hand out to invite her to join him. “As you wish.”

After one more beat of equivocation, Nell joined him as he led the way through the corridor.

“Do you wish to go into dinner first or second?” he asked.

“First, if it is all the same to you.”

“I prefer it, in fact.”

She looked at him curiously. “Do you?”

“Decidedly,” he said, though he did not elaborate.

They reached the place where Nell had begun to doubt her path, but he continued walking until the corridor opened up to the entry hall. He turned into it.

Hopeful that the party might still be in the drawing room, Nell found herself walking ahead of him, the sound of their mismatched footsteps filling the enormous room as they traversed it.

They reached another crossroads. To the right lay the black-and-white marbled floor Nell had been seeking, but the man led her to the left.

“So,” he asked conversationally, “how long shall I wait after you have gone in?”

Something about the way he asked the question gave Nell to think he found the situation humorous.

“Two or three minutes will suffice, I imagine. Do you not agree?”

“Oh, I would not think two minutes sufficient. Three is the bare minimum.”

She glanced at him, and he smiled at her in a way that assured her his amusement was not at her expense. The unexpected camaraderie of it sent a flicker of something through her.

They reached a door on their right, and the man glanced inside. “It appears they have already gone in to dinner.”

Nell suppressed her disappointment and followed him farther down the corridor. They slowed a dozen feet shy of the next door.

“Three minutes, then,” the man said.

Nell hesitated. Now that she was here, her nerves were flaring. Perhaps it would be better for her to return to her bedchamber, after all. Plead the headache.

She met the man’s curious gaze and tried for a self-deprecating smile. “Forgive me. I do not particularly care for making scenes.”

His brows drew together. “Why ever not?”

She had no response to this for several seconds. “Do you mean that you do care for it?”

“On occasion, certainly.”

Nell regarded him. There was something so relaxed and unconcerned in the way he held himself that she tended to believe him. “And tonight is one of those occasions?”

His smile grew. “Tonight is most certainly one of those occasions.”

Envy pinched her. She wished she could look forward to the disturbance she would cause. “You and I are quite different, I think.”

His brown eyes took her in. “No doubt.”

She took in a breath, grasped the handle, then stopped. “Perhaps four minutes would be better.”