A Companion for the Count: A Regency Romance, Britton, Sally [books to read for self improvement .txt] 📗

“You left the show, and you did not seem well.”

She winced. “Morbid again?”

His expression softened, concern lingering in his eyes. “Unwell. Do you need to return to the castle, or perhaps sit for a time?” His gaze swung away from her as he searched about, perhaps to find her a place to sit and rest.

“I am not an invalid, my lord.” Emma drew away. “I am only in search of something to drink. I think the inn will have tea.” She turned away and started walking, her heart in her throat. What was wrong with her? She ought to be glad he had followed. But why? She didn’t need his help. She was perfectly fine. Wasn’t she?

He stayed with her, though he remained silent until the moment she ordered her tea. They entered the already crowded inn together and went to the long countertop where the innkeeper cleaned cups and served people. Before she could open her purse strings, Luca had paid for two cups of tea and then steered them to chairs in one corner.

“Luca,” she whispered as he pulled the chair out for her. “I really am quite well.”

“I am glad to hear it. But I will take tea with you, of course, and return you to your friends when you feel better than ‘well.’” He seated himself across from her and folded his arms over his chest, wearing an expression that meant she would encounter an argument if she tried to dismiss him again.

“This is ridiculous,” she scoffed softly.

“What would the duke say if I let you wander about on your own? Even if you are only in search of tea.”

“He would not mind in the slightest, since I am an independent woman in his employment,” Emma said with a wave of her hand.

Luca’s head tilted back. His expression changed rapidly from confusion to disappointment. He lowered his gaze to the table. “His employment? As Lady Josephine’s companion, you mean.”

“Of course.” Emma studied the woodgrains in the table between them, the dark lines and a single knot worth the lingering observation. She shouldn’t remind him of her low place in Society. Daughter of a gentleman, but still a paid companion. But then, it was for the best. A man of his standing would not wish to risk anything by courting someone who supposedly held such a low position in Society.

But she could tell him—she could mention the other position she held in the family. A ward, the duke her guardian, the duchess as much a mother to her as the one she had lost as a child. If she told Luca those things, would it change things?

Would he wish to be more than her friend?

The innkeeper’s daughter brought the tea and left it with a small service upon their table. Emma removed her gloves to pour out the tea. She put milk and the smallest lump of sugar in hers, then did the same for the conte. When had she learned they took their tea the same way?

She put her hand around her cup—it was the old-fashioned kind, without a delicate handle that would be likely to break in the rough usage an inn must surely see from time to time.

Luca’s gloveless hand curled around hers.

“Emma. Once more, you appear distressed.” Luca kept his tone too low for others to hear, and almost too quiet for her to make out his words.

“I have a lot to think upon, is all.” She studied his hand, enjoying its warmth, how large it was compared to hers, how strong it must be given the shape of his fingers—narrow except at the joints.

His fingertips brushed across her knuckles as he withdrew it, taking his own teacup in hand. He said nothing else while they drank their tea. The room around them provided enough noise to make their silence notable. Though Luca said no more, she knew he kept his gaze upon her, studying her.

Something troubled her. Something she did not want to examine or admit to. The tea granted her a few moments’ peace to fortify herself again. The unexpected wave of emotion she had felt at the Punch and Judy show had been sad and bitter both, and she knew at last what name to give it. Jealousy. Josephine had given Luca no more than a little kind attention, the same sort she would give anyone, and Emma had wanted to keep Luca all to herself. Like a spoiled child.

She would do better. She could share her friendships. The lapse had been strange, but she recognized it now, and all would be well.

Emma smiled around the rim of her teacup. “Is there anything in particular you wish to see today, my lord? The market is not grand, but the people are very enthusiastic about their wares.”

Luca’s smile seemed forced. “I will go wherever you lead, Miss Arlen. You must be my guide.”

They left the inn without any further discussion on her thoughts, and Emma found their party had lost interest in Punch and Judy and had begun to wander freely through the stalls. They went from one to the next, with the ladies purchasing ribbon and thread, apples and buttons. The men with them spoke to one another of the race, of the price of a good horse, and occasionally consulted with the ladies about their purchases.

Rupert Gardiner showed himself an attentive husband, always ready with a word for Alice when she looked for it. Their obvious care for one another made Emma smile, relieved her friend had found such a wonderful match. Not everyone had such luck.

They finished with the market, and despite the amount of time they had wandered about, decided to walk back to the castle instead of taking one of the duke’s carriages. He had several guests staying for a large dinner party, including the Gardiners.

They walked through the shortcut with Simon and Andrew leading the way, while Alice and Rupert took up the middle