Page 26 of A Bachelor’s Lessons in Love

“We both know that is not entirely true. I look after members of my household.”

A wrinkle appeared at the bridge of her nose. “Of course.”

“Is that skepticism I hear?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea how your ears interpret sound, Colonel.”

He nearly laughed and instead bit back the smile that threatened to show. With some sympathy for Daphne’s discomfort, he stood and went to the door of the balcony, gesturing for Miss Price to follow. “We will return momentarily, Daphne.”

“Yes, Colonel.” Her shoulders relaxed, and she offered him a sweet smile.

Once Miss Price had stepped into the corridor with him, he lowered his voice. “The implication that there is something wrong with my hearing notwithstanding, you sound put out. Will you tell me what I have done, Captain Price? I doubt I could guess, considering I have politely stayed well out of your way for near a fortnight.”

“Out of my way?” she repeated, eyebrows climbing higher on her forehead. She had to tip her chin up to meet his gaze in the narrow passage, given their close proximity to one another. “Is that what you call your—your inexplicable leave of absence? Two weeks without deigning to bestow your company on your ward?”

Ah, now they were getting somewhere. “Did Daphne suffer without my company?” he asked, glancing at the door to the balcony curiously. “I think she seemed well enough.”

Miss Price bristled like a hedgehog. “Of course, she is well—I have done everything I could to give her the instruction and confidence she needs for her debut.” She kept her voice low, hardly above a whisper. The murmurs of the crowd in the theater and the foyer below nearly drowned out her words until he leaned closer. “A guardian who is always absent can hardly say he has done his duty. Daphne needs to come to know you, to trust you. Instead, you disappeared with hardly more than a word! I know bachelors are not used to sharing their quarters with ladies, but fleeing our company was hardly gentlemanlike.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Is that what you think? That I was avoiding Daphne? Avoiding you?” Edward shook his head, disbelief and irritation coursing through him. He had spent the last two weeks putting himself in the uncomfortable position of getting to know people; ingratiating himself to gentlemen and lesser lords, pretending an interest in things he cared naught for, like boxing matches and horse races and the blasted hunting.

“Avoiding us? The evidence speaks for itself,” she said, her eyes piercing him with indignation.

Edward could not let her misconstrue the situation a moment longer. “Miss Price. While you have been instructing Daphne on the proper way to hold a fan, I have been ensuring she will be invited to the events where she can flutter it.”

Her soft gray eyes filled with irritation—and perhaps the slightest curiosity. “And how have you done that, exactly?”

In the army, he’d never been challenged in such a way. His decisions were accepted and respected—at least, by the time he’d made captain. The same went for his dealings with his household staff, tenants, and in his business dealings. He barely knew Miss Price. He barely understood if he was annoyed by her question or admired her the more for it.

Edward exhaled sharply, pressing his lips together before speaking in a calm, measured tone. “I have spent the last two weeks at my new club, Blackstone’s, playing cards with men I have no interest in befriending. I have lost money to them on purpose. I have asked questions about their sisters and daughters while pretending to care about the state of the turf at Newmarket. I have listened to men boast of their prospects, their estates, and their politics, and smiled, and bought drinks, and loaned money, and flattered idiots, all to ensure that when the subject of my ward arises, they see her as someone worth welcoming into their ranks.”

Miss Price’s brow furrowed, as if she had not expected such an answer.

“It is not enough for Daphne to be well-mannered and charming,” Edward continued, his voice lower now but no less firm. “She must have sponsors. Invitations, connections, friendly faces—and that requires me to play a game I have never had any interest in. I have dined where I would rather not dine. I have endured conversations I would rather forget. I have worn clothes most uncomfortable and stayed up far too late, and I have done it all so that Daphne’s name will be on the right lists when the Season truly begins.” Edward leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a murmur. “You think I was neglecting my duty, Miss Price? I was doing the one thing I know how to do—something, forgive me, that you cannot. I was securing her future as a soldier secures a victory. By outmaneuvering those who might keep her from it.”

After a pause, Miss Price lowered her gaze to the vicinity of his cravat. He saw her throat bob with a swallow. “I…I see,” she said finally, her voice quieter than before. “I had not realized…”

Edward watched her closely, tilting his head to the side as he studied the play of emotion on her features. “No. I don’t suppose you had.”

Her gray eyes flickered up to meet his again, her chin lifted but with less irritation than before. “Then I suppose I must thank you, Colonel. It is no small thing to endure insipid conversation for the greater good.”

The unexpected levity in the statement made a quiet laugh escape him. “That, Miss Price, was certainly the greatest hardship of all.”

“Men ought to receive medals for such things.”

“Indeed.”

The slightest smile curved her lips, and Edward found himself watching the movement with interest. Goodness, she had a lovely smile. It appeared all too infrequently. She was a beautiful woman; formidable when she wished to be, but at moments like this—or when she interacted with Daphne—there was a gentleness to her that made him question why no man had wed her.

Edward leaned closer to her, looking into her eyes again. “You know even when I am not at home, you are always welcome to contact me. Write me. Even send for me, if need be. I will always come.”

Her gaze flickered downward and back again. Even in the flickering light of the corridor, he saw the pink rise in her cheeks. A most becoming color on her, to be sure. “I-I think I managed well enough in your absence, but I appreciate knowing that. Thank you.”

He leaned nearer, lowering his head as his chest tightened. “I am certain you had matters well in hand. I doubt you even missed me.”

What was he doing? Looming over her as he was, he was bound to frighten her, to offer insult. He needed to get hold of himself at once.

Step away. Far, far away.