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She went utterly still, staring at hi, owlish expression of hers He hated when she did that Ittoo much, and he felt exposed Even when she was a child, she’d seemed to see him more deeply than the rest of the family It hadn’t made sense; most of the time she was happy, jolly Honoria, but then she’d look at hi lavender eyes of hers, and he’d realize what her family never did, that she understood people

She understood hi to shake away the memories He didn’t want to think about her fa a part of their world And he didn’t want to think about her, either He didn’t want to look at her face and think that her eyes were the exact color of the grape hyacinths that had just begun to pop up all over the landscape They caht – just for a moment before he pushed it away – that they were her flower But not the petals; they were too dark Honoria’s eyes er part at the base of the flohere the color hadn’t quite turned blue

His chest had grown tight; he tried to breathe He really didn’t want to think about the fact that he knew that, that he could look at a flower and pinpoint the exact spot on the petal that , but of course she didn’t Not now, not when he would have actually welcomed her babble

And then finally, softly, she said, "I could introduce you"

"What?" He had no idea what she was talking about

"I could introduce you," she said again, "to so ladies The ones you said you didn’t know"

Oh, for God’s sake, was that what she thought the problem was? He’d met every lady in London; he just didn’t know any of them

"I would be happy to do it," she said kindly

Kindly?

Pityingly?

"Unnecessary," he said in a brusque voice

"No, of course, you’ve been introduced – "

"I just don’t like – "

"You find us silly – "

"They talk about nothing – "

"Even I would grow bored – "

"The truth is," he announced, eager to be done with this conversation, "I hate London"