He dropped her hand. He shouldn’t have been holding it in the first place. “I’ve got to go.” She slid her hand from his shoulder. He stepped away from her and found he could finally breathe again. With sheer will, he brought a smile to his face, the crooked one that really made the ladies swoon. “You know me, card parties to attend and women to flatter.” Her eyes dimmed in the soft light. His crooked smile wasn’t doing its duty. “Unless, of course, you find me in ill health, and then I suppose I should simply head home and read more books.”

“Skim books, you mean.” Her voice was soft and low, as if he had disappointed her somehow. What would he do if she said he was unfit to go out? What would it mean?

“Yes, despite the hours I spend on it, I’m not much of a reader.”

“Perhaps you should read more German children’s stories.”

He smiled, this time sincerely. “Perhaps I should. It has been a most agreeable evening.” He couldn’t make himself step away from Miss Barton. “What do you think, Miss Barton? Am I well enough to socialize?”

Miss Barton’s hand lifted, and for a brief moment, Everton held his breath as he waited for the flutter of fingers to graze his forehead once again. His body swayed forward, making the space between them shrink to mere inches.

But her hand dropped, and her body reeled backward.

“There is nothing wrong with you.”

Her voice was soft and low, but it was also firm. He had never been more disappointed to be classified as healthy. He took a step back and curled his lip. “That isn’t what most of London thinks.”

“I know,” Miss Baron said, shaking her head. “And I can’t help feeling you like it that way.”

“Of course I do.” He pulled at the lapels of his perfectly tailored jacket, the little pin she had given him flashing in the darkening room. “I’ve worked long and hard for this reputation of mine. I cannot afford to lose it now.” Another shake of her head. Usually such shakes brought him much pleasure. Disappointing people was one of his favorite pastimes. But blast it. If he didn’t leave, he would be apologizing to Miss Barton for hiding behind his reputation before he knew it. “I’ll show myself out.”

Without waiting for an answer, he strode out of the dim nursery. It might be best if he went a few days without seeing Miss Barton again. His tentative grasp on sanity seemed to crack a bit more each time he came near her.

Chapter 14

Everton didn’t play cards after his visit with Miss Barton. He went home and, even though it was early, found a copy of German Popular Stories and read half the book. It didn’t help him sleep. All it did was put Miss Barton’s farcical voices in his head. When his body finally collapsed well into the morning, he was plagued with dreams of Rachel crumpling in horror at his touch. But sometimes her face would change. Her hair would go from fair to dark, her eyes from blue to caramel. But the disgust was always the same. He awoke feeling more tired than when he had fallen asleep.