Perhaps because he realized, much to his mortification, that he’d misjudged her. He’d viewed her as open and honest, had begun to take more than a casual interest in her, only to learn that a devious mind possibly lurked behind those deep brown eyes that reminded him of a doe he’d adopted as a pet when he was a lad and spent most of his time in the countryside.

It irked, irked that she was planning to land a lord and would use any means necessary to obtain him. He found it more irritating that because of a daft letter, she might possibly be setting her sights on the Earl of Rosemont.

“I’m not in love with him,” she finally snapped, stuffing the clipping back into her skirt pocket. “His wife adored him, and I find it commendable that he should inspire such devotion. But more, her entreaty to bring him out of his sorrow touched my heart. Not that it’s any of your concern nor should I have to justify myself.” She heaved an impatient sigh. “Thank you for providing conversation during dinner. It’s late. I must be off.”

It had grown dark. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten a leisurely meal. Generally, he wolfed down his food so the task of providing his body with sustenance was done, and he could move on to drink. “I’ll escort you back to your shop.”

“I’m fine on my own. No one would dare accost me. They know my brothers would see them dead.”

“You’re assuming everyone hereabouts knows you’re a Trewlove. I didn’t.”

She opened her mouth to protest, and quickly shut it, obviously coming to the realization he’d already won the argument. “I can’t stop you if you’ve a mind to accompany me.”

However, she was certainly determined to give it a go, because she turned on her heel and marched briskly for the door, a couple of lads jumping out of her way, obviously realizing they were in danger of being mowed down. Just as she neared the door, he easily caught up to her, reached around her, grabbed the handle, and pulled. She passed over the threshold with a muttered “thank you” that, for some inexplicable reason, made him smile for the second time that evening. He’d grown accustomed to happiness being absent for some time and it was a strange thing to feel it tapping on his shoulder.

In silence, guided by the lit streetlamps, they crossed the street and strolled along the bricked pavement until they arrived at her shop. She reached into her pocket and withdrew a key. This time no paper fluttered to the ground. After unlocking the door, she went still a heartbeat before looking over her shoulder. “I hope you won’t be a stranger to the shop, Mr. Sommersby.”