The afternoon sun warmed his hair as Nolan gazed down at Sienna. She hadn’t said anything since they had squeezed out of the Dower House’s garden. Used to the constant moving expression of her face, he found her silence unnerving. In the garden, the warmth of their shared laughter had given him hope, but the quiet reminded him of all the times he had not been able to find the words to engage her in the past. Surely it was only a matter of time before she lost interest in him. The scavenger list was creased, the paper warm and soft in his hand. Sienna’s lips parted slightly but she still did not answer his question. Perhaps she wanted to end this ridiculous quest but was too polite to say.
‘Are you sure you wish to carry on?’ She gestured to his clothes, which were probably beyond repair. He was trying not to look at the rips in the expensive fabric. Nolan worked hard and the Dukedom’s coffers were very healthy, but that did not stop his valet from acting as if every item of clothing was the Duke’s most precious possession.
Sienna was still gazing up at him, waiting for an answer. If Nolan had known this morning, he was going to commit a crime, hide under a bed, conquer his arachnid fear and fall into a ditch, all in front of the most vibrant woman he had ever met, he’d have quietly retreated to his room, making excuses about estate business. He would have missed gently brushing his fingers against Sienna’s soft skin, her arms around his neck and the way her eyes looked when they shone with laughter. He’d have missed the very best day of his life.
‘Is that code for saying that you would like to return home?’ he asked. ‘Because I would not want to stop you and would prefer you to be honest rather than politely endure my company.’
Her gaze flicked away from him. ‘Oh no, I am having a grand old time. This is exactly the sort of mad caper I enjoy.’
Happiness leaked out of him. ‘You do not need to do that.’
‘Do what?’ A blush was spreading now, travelling down her delicate neck. It took all his gentlemanly manners for his gaze not to follow its path any further.
‘You are dismissing yourself, implying that you are silly.’
‘That is what you think of me, is it not?’
He swallowed down his immediate denial. He had thought her vapid and denying it would be painfully obvious when she knew how he had spoken to her only yesterday morning. Once you had held a woman in bed—or under it fully clothed, in his case—empty platitudes fell flat. ‘I really am very sorry, Sienna, that I have given you reason to believe I have a negative opinion of you. Any harsh words I have ever said were a reaction to my overhearing that you thought I was dull. It was very immature of me and I do hope you will forgive me.’ He pushed his hand through his hair, some devil urging him on. ‘The truth is, I think you are rather wonderful.’
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