Silk and Scorn by Cassandra Dean

Author:Cassandra Dean [Dean, Cassandra]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: The Silk Series - Book 2
Publisher: Decadent Publishing
Published: 2014-02-12T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Five

Resting her parasol on her shoulder, Sarah smiled widely at those who passed them by as they meandered around Hyde Park. She received a few smiles in return and one scowl from a man in a too-thin overcoat with red cheeks and wet eyes. No doubt the cold was affecting him, and she refused to take his response as anything other than that. It was too beautiful a day to think anything other.

The path fairly teemed with people, out to enjoy the sunshine this late March day had chosen to display. Though it still bitingly cold, spring crept over London and went a ways to warming a woman as she took a turn around Hyde Park, and Arthur took care of the rest.

Curling her hand around his arm, she pressed closer against him. At her action, he looked down at her, the corner of his mouth lifting. She knew what that meant now. She knew he was highly amused, and, though he returned his gaze again to negotiating the path before them, she knew he was as aware of her as she was of him.

In the month and a half since she had first engaged his services, so much had changed. Winter had bled into spring, and her opinion of Arthur Davenport had undergone a dramatic reversal. These walks about the park were now a thrice-weekly occurrence, begun when he’d mentioned how he longed for the hills and dales of Clemmens-Upon-Avon, how he missed frolicking amongst the greenery with the children of his youth.

She grinned. Well, perhaps she had rewritten his words and colored them with more longing than the passing thought he’d no doubt intended, but when it meant she could spend time with him away from his law chambers, and he didn’t argue, where was the harm?

“Sarah, how many times are we to walk this park?”

She roused herself from her musing with a fairly intelligent, “Hmm?”

Chestnut brows drew over brilliant hazel eyes. She’d not before thought hazel to be a brilliant kind of color, but on him, it could be nothing else. “How many times are we to walk this path? My feet are close to resembling blocks of ice.”

He was also a singularly unromantic soul. “Can you not enjoy this beautiful day?”

He looked about them, then back at her. “I should enjoy it more if my feet weren’t subject to frostbite.”

She sighed. “Once more? It’s such a lovely day, and we’ve not seen many.”

“Once more.” He fell silent a moment. “It’s only I have work I should be doing.”

“I know.”

“And we should talk of your case. I’ve had another letter from Wetherall.”

The joy she’d taken in the day soured. “Have you?”

“He seems to believe if he inundates Lord Beecham’s chambers in letters proclaiming himself correct, then it shall come to pass. It’s like the man who believes if he talks the loudest he is the most correct.”

She didn’t respond.

He stopped. “Sarah?”

A kind of churn began in her and she focused on her hand on his arm. She felt his gaze upon her.

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