Her lungs were filled with his scent of bay rum. He looked so splendidly handsome in a navy jacket and trousers, gray waistcoat, snowy white shirt, and perfectly knotted cravat. Her gaze kept wandering over to him, and every so often, his would glide over to clash against hers. Her cheeks would warm as she turned her attention back to the task at hand. She couldn’t help but believe that something was shifting between them and could only hope it wasn’t unwise to find excuses to have him near.

An hour in, several footmen from the hotel dining room paraded in, carrying small cakes, biscuits, and tea. She stood and clapped her hands. “Refreshments have arrived. We’ll take a short break now.”

As people scattered, the footmen set their items on a table near the door and began serving.

“Your brother provides the food and drink, I assume,” Mr. Sommersby said quietly just over her shoulder, creating a tingle of pleasure that traversed along her spine with his nearness. It took every morsel of dignity she possessed not to back into him so his arms could encircle her as they had yesterday afternoon.

“Yes. I suspect the offering entices at least one of our students to return.” She faced him. “May I prepare you some tea?”

“No, thank you. After this, I’ll be headed for a glass of scotch.”

“Is it so awful?”

He slowly shook his head. “No, but it is humbling to realize how often I’ve taken reading for granted. It’s a remarkable thing you’re striving to accomplish here, Miss Trewlove.”

“It’s a small thing really. I appreciate how you helped me earlier when I stumbled.”

His gaze roamed slowly over her face as though he were searching for something. “Why did you stumble?”

Because I find myself drawn to you and in two nights, I’ll be at a ball hoping to garner the favor of some lord—

“Whew, it’s ’ot in ’ere, id’n it?” Lottie asked as she wedged herself between Fancy and Mr. Sommersby, who was forced to take a step back to avoid having the woman pressed up against him.

Fancy watched in fascination as Lottie gave freedom to three buttons on her bodice and then trailed her finger over the exposed flesh. “Would ye loike to go outside, ’ansome, where it’s a bit cooler?”

“No, thank you.”

She shifted her gaze to the side, to Fancy. “She’s a proper lady, she is. She won’t even give ye a kiss.”