Truth be told, he had seen no such thing. He simply wanted to see her reaction to such a thing, and to place his hand at her back.

Pitiful, pathetic man.

The woman lived in his house, was ever and always at his fingertips, and had a perplexing temperament that shifted more than the tides on the sea. She had been so sweet and warm these last few weeks, he had forgotten she could ever grow truly angry or truly harsh. He could hardly recall the woman he had first met in London, and the one he had married. He barely remembered the woman who had insulted Emblyn and berated him. The spoiled, selfish creature he hadn’t been entirely convinced was worth the effort.

None of that was clear anymore.

All he saw was Adelaide, and everything within him seemed to light up when she was near. For a man so generally in control of himself and his feelings, it was a strange thing. Not unpleasant, only strange.

Odd, perhaps.

Odd, enjoyable, and confusing.

“Basset, the Penbartons are leaving. As is Sir Henry and Lady Allwyn.”

Harrison blinked and looked up, unsure when he had looked down, finding nothing in his previous line of sight that ought to have captured his attention. Now, Adelaide stood before him, tilting her head toward the outer hall, her eyes dim with fatigue that matched his own but still so lovely in appearance.

“Right,” he grunted, nodding and coming to her, taking her hand without thought rather than her arm.

She did not pull away, which surprised him. In his previous experience, when in public, she preferred polite touching rather than familiar, and this was certainly more familiar than polite.

He didn’t care.

Sir Henry was a business partner and a snobbish one. His wife had limited manners for Emblyn, as did her sister Mrs. Boscastle, which ought to have made them friends with the woman he had married. Yet Adelaide had no patience for them and had not, as he understood it, had any social encounters without several others present.

He could not afford to offend Sir Henry, nor Mr. Boscastle, but he did not have to make friends of them, either.

The Penbartons, however, were a fine couple with several children—a well-established family. They understood the way things were in Cornwall and embraced its diversity and culture. They did not attempt to make Cornwall into London.

He watched as the last of the couples loaded themselves into their carriages and waved alongside Adelaide as they pulled away.