Chapter 28

Bernadette sat at a table indoors in one of London's most celebrated tea-houses. Judy sat with her, and Bernadette fidgeted awkwardly with the tablecloth, feeling her heart thud nervously in her chest.

Despite having seen him but a few hours ago, she could not stop thinking about him. Memories of his kisses, of his words, intruded each time she let herself be still. She'd played the pianoforte for most of the morning, trying to distract herself from sweet musings.

"Miss Rowland?" Judy murmured warning her of someone approaching. Bernadette looked up from the tablecloth, heart thudding, but it was only the proprietor, though, coming over to their table, a smile on his big, friendly face.

"Madam? Would you like to order something?"

Bernadette shook her head. "No, thank you," she replied hastily. "I'm waiting for somebody to join us."

"Ah. I see." The proprietor smiled warmly at her. "Sorry to bother you."

"Not at all," Bernadette answered politely as the man inclined his head in a respectful gesture and then turned back to the rest of the tea-house.

He'll be here soon, she reminded herself, her fingers plucking nervously at the green muslin of her gown. She felt as though she was meeting him for the first time. It was the first time: the first real outing they were going on together, by their own choice.

"Milady?" Judy's voice interrupted her musings.

"What is it?" Bernadette murmured, and then she felt her face flood with a flush, heart thudding nervously. He was in the doorway, wearing a dark brown velvet jacket, a silk cravat and with his blue eyes alight with warmth.

"My dear Bernadette," he murmured as he approached the table, bowing low. "I apologise for my tardy arrival. I had a few matters to take care of." His voice was low, his dark-blue gaze bright where it held her own. Bernadette swallowed hard, finding it hard to breathe. She could smell the leather-and-pomade smell that was the scent of him, and her heart raced with joy and longing.

"Nicholas," she greeted him, flushing with the use of his name. Though she'd become accustomed to using it, in this setting it felt more intimate than before. "How nice to see you."

Nicholas smiled and drew out a chair, sitting down opposite her. Judy, who had been focusing on Bernadette, suddenly became engrossed in a copy of the Gazette that was lying on the table. Bernadette's heart swelled with thanks. She was the best—or the worst—chaperone in the history of London, she was quite sure. Bernadette loved her for that.

"How are you?" Nicholas asked as he settled down at the table, stretching out his legs under it. His hands moved across the surface of it and found her fingers. She sighed, feeling a tingle of longing and excitement spread through her body.

"I am well," she managed to say. She guessed he wanted to know how her parents had reacted. "I had a pleasant morning, with no trouble."

"Good. Good." He inclined his head, looking suddenly weary. Bernadette cleared her throat.

"And you? How was...how are your grandparents?" she asked carefully, not sure if he was comfortable with talking about it.

He sighed, shaking his head. "Not happy," he said, looking tense for a moment. Then he grinned. "But then, very little makes them so; so, I am sure I shouldn't feel too guilty."

Bernadette giggled. "That's good," she said softly.

"Madam? Sir?" The proprietor appeared at their table. "May I fetch you something?"

Nicholas glanced at Bernadette, then answered. "Tea, please. For three. And would you fancy a slice of cake, Bernadette?" he inquired warmly.

Bernadette grinned. She'd noticed a particularly delicious gateau in the window. She nodded. "Yes, please. A slice of the hazelnut cake."

Nicholas, smiling back, placed the order, taking three slices of cake—one for Judy, as well. Judy, still apparently fascinated by the newspaper, appeared not to have heard anything they said.

They chatted as they waited for the tea and cake to arrive. Nicholas mentioned that his mother and Lord Aldford were considering taking a trip to Bath. Bernadette smiled.

"How nice. I imagine it is very beautiful there."

"It must be," Nicholas agreed, tilting his head. "You know...I feel sure we have a residence not too far from there. A small one, little more than a cottage for hunting. But I am certain we do. I'll have to ask Grandfather about it, when he decides he's in a state to talk with me."

Bernadette raised a brow, but even the talk of Lord Lockwood could not dampen the spark of excitement she felt. Could he mean what she thought?

They chatted a little longer over tea. Bernadette sampled the cake, shutting her eyes at the delicious, sugary sweetness; the hazelnut and cream a sweet, delicate flavor to enjoy.

"Shall we walk to the park after tea?" Nicholas inquired as he stirred his tea. Bernadette nodded at once.

"Yes, please," she agreed.

Nicholas settled the payment for the tea, then they walked slowly out of the tea-house and down into the street. It was sunny and warm outside, and Bernadette smiled, feeling the warmth on her skin and smelling the sweet floral scents of springtime flowers drifting over from the park. It was a beautiful day and she walked beside Nicholas, her arm through his, enjoying every second of it.

"You know," Nicholas murmured as they walked down the long, expansive pathways in Hyde Park. "I have a nice plan for the coming week. I hope you'll like my idea."

"I'm sure I will," Bernadette said softly in reply.

Judy, behind them, looked away in rapt interest as they reached a bench and sat down. If she was listening to anything, she had a wonderful talent at keeping a straight face, because she showed no expression at all as they talked. Bernadette smiled and laughed, her soul soaring.

They both agreed it was a wonderful idea.