Page 45 of A Convenient Fiction

Later, after he’d helped Teddy back upstairs and bid goodbye to her aunt, Laura walked Mr. Archer out. Yardley had fetched the vicar’s gig from the stable, and was waiting with it at the gate.

“You should put your brother on the ground floor,” Mr. Archer said. “It would be easier for him.”

Laura’s full skirts brushed against his leg. The path through their overgrown garden was almost as intimate as the wilderness walk at Edgington Park. “We’ve tried to move him countless times since Papa’s death. He’s always refused. He insists on keeping the view from his window.”

“Ask him again. He may feel differently now that your manservant isn’t able to assist him.”

“I will.” She stopped at the gate. The vicar’s gig was waiting on the other side of it, Yardley holding the horse’s head. It stamped its hooves with impatience. “Mr. Archer—”

“Alex.” He stood, gazing down at her. “Your brother and I are already on a first name basis. Surely the two of us needn’t stand on ceremony.”

She made no reply. Not because she couldn’t think of the words, but because there were too many of them. Too many things she wanted to tell him, too many things she wished to say.

His expression softened. “I’d like to call you Laura, if I may.”

Butterflies fluttered their wings in her stomach. She moistened her lips. “Very well.”

His mouth curved up at one corner. As if he were teasing her. But there was a warmth in his gaze that hadn’t been there before. “Thank you for dinner.”

“Thank you. You were awfully good with Teddy. I haven’t seen him talk so much in years.”

“He’s easy to talk with.”

“There aren’t many who find him so. I think you must have younger brothers.”

Something flickered at the back of his eyes, dark and troubled. “Not a one. But I remember what it was like to be his age.”

“He should be away at school,” she said. “My father attended Cambridge. I’d hoped that, one day, Teddy might be strong enough to do the same.”

“You could arrange for private tuition.”

“We can’t. Not at present. But if things go as planned with our new solicitor—”

His brows lifted. “You managed to borrow the money from Miss Talbot?”

“I did. She was very generous.” Laura didn’t mention the note she’d signed. And she certainly didn’t mention Henrietta’s strictures on the perils of borrowing money from friends: Neither a borrower, nor a lender be. It would all be worth it if Papa’s will could be resolved in Teddy’s favor. “Now we need only wait to hear if we have a case.”

“You must tell me if there’s anything I can do.”

“There isn’t. But I’m obliged to you for the offer. Your kindness is—”

He shook his head, frowning. “Not kindness.”

“Whatever it is—whatever prompted your consideration for my aunt and my brother—”

“I thought only of you.”

She stared up at him. Her heart thumped heavily. “You shouldn’t say such things.”

He looked steadily back at her. “Why not, if I mean them?”

Why not, indeed? It only set her pulse to racing and encouraged her to dream impossible dreams. Dreams were dangerous things. They made one dissatisfied with reality.

“It’s getting late.” Mr. Archer cast a glance at the gig. The horse tossed its head and gave another stamp of its hooves. “I should go. The vicar will be thinking the worst.”

“Yes, of course.” She held out her hand to him. She wasn’t wearing her gloves. Neither was he. “I expect I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon at Edgington Park.”

“I expect you will.” He took her bare hand gently in his, but he didn’t shake it. He turned it palm down, and then, before she could comprehend what he was about, he drew it to his lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.