Page 52 of The Pursuit of Lord Kit Cavanaugh

“Ah.” Her smile returned. “That’s a pretty area.”

He shrugged lightly. “I wanted a house that was big enough, but not too big.”

“I saw Ollie at school. How’s he settling in with your people?”

Her assumption that he would have “people” made him smile. Holding her gaze, he said, “There’s only my majordomo, Gordon, my groom, Smiggs, and our cook, Dalgetty, so Ollie is far from overwhelmed. In fact, he might even be underwhelmed by my paucity of servitors, but I’ve heard him chatting freely with the others, and they’re the sort who’ll take a lad under their wings.”

“I see.” Her smile remained, but her eyes studied his, and as the moment stretched, her smile slowly faded…

Then she sucked in a tight breath and flashed him another smile—one much less certain—and turned to the gate. “I should go in.”

Why?

But he reached over the gate, lifted the latch, swung the gate open, and held it for her to pass through.

This time, he didn’t follow. That damned uncertainty anchored his boots to the pavement.

She paused on the path and looked back at him. For a moment, her eyes searched his features, then she met his gaze. Her smile was soft, but real and more assured. “Thank you for escorting me home.”

He let his lips curve and inclined his head. “As always in your company, the pleasure was mine.”

Her smile deepened a touch before, with a dip of her head, she turned and walked on.

He watched her climb the steps, open the door, and go inside. He stared at the door as it closed and the lock clicked into place.

After a second more of mindless staring, he forced his feet to move.

Striding back along the park, he kept his eyes peeled for an available hackney; several were trotting along the cobbles, ferrying people home as twilight descended. He found one disgorging its passenger—a businessman with top hat and cane. The instant the hackney was free, Kit climbed aboard and gave the jarvey his address.

Kit sprawled on the seat. After turning the carriage, the driver whipped up his horse. Kit stared unseeing at the streetscapes flashing past as he headed home—to his all-male household and his lonely bed.

If he wanted to alter either of those facts, one thing had just become crystal clear.

Before he next met Sylvia Buckleberry, he needed to devise a plan of campaign.

A campaign unlike any he’d ever waged.

Because he’d never felt so wretchedly unsure of himself with any woman before.

CHAPTER 11

The following afternoon, Kit tracked Sylvia to the school. He’d spent half the night plotting and planning and had settled on a strategy and a course of action. After spending most of the day at the workshop, mentally rehearsing his approach while working alongside Wayland and the men, he’d set off for Sylvia’s office, girded his loins, and knocked on the door, only to discover she wasn’t there.

As he climbed the school steps, he heard her voice, and a curious mix of trepidation and anticipation slid through him. He couldn’t recall feeling the like for more than a decade, not since he’d been a wet-behind-the-ears youth who’d just come on the town.

And even then…

Then, the outcome hadn’t really mattered.

Now, it did.

He stood back to allow two boys to barrel through the door, then ducked inside before the next group clogged the entry.

To one side, Sylvia and Miss Meggs were discussing something in some book.

When they looked up, smiles lighting both their faces, he quashed his instinctive impulse to cross to them—to Sylvia—and, instead, raised a hand in a salute and continued down the hall to where Cross and Jellicoe had just dismissed the older lads and now stood comparing notes.

The teachers saw Kit coming and turned to greet him.