Meet Me at Midnight (Romance, Completed)

Chapter 11

Gregory brought his town car again, only this time he opened the door for me himself rather than letting the chauffeur do it. Once inside, he smiled at me across the middle seat.

"Thank you for coming today."

"It's my pleasure."

"Still..." He took a deep breath, and I sensed he wanted to get something off his chest. "After the way I acted on our first two encounters, I'm surprised you agreed. I behaved like a dolt. I confess, I only agreed to see you because Mother insisted, and I had no idea quite how lovely you'd turn out to be."

My heart fluttered at his words. "It's okay."

"No, it's not, and I intend to do everything in my power to make it up to you. I've grown really rather fond of you, Augusta."

Oh, hell. I should have been over the moon at Gregory's declaration, but the thrill was tempered by thoughts of Midnight. The driver glanced at us in the rear-view mirror, the nosy git, as Gregory reached across and twined his fingers in mine. A warmth flowed through me, a happiness at being wanted by a man I'd considered out of my league, but far from the inferno that consumed me during Midnight's illicit liaisons. Gregory and I rode on in companionable silence until the car pulled up outside Trattoria Luigi, a small Italian place that got rave reviews from every critic.

Gregory turned to me with a smile. "Pizza, right?"

I'd been thinking more of Pizza Express, but I couldn't deny he'd put the effort in. "It's perfect, thank you."

Gregory's hand rested on the small of my back as he steered me towards the best table in the house then waved the waiter away so he could pull out my chair himself.

"I've never been here before," he said. "Have you?"

"A couple of times with my sister."

"Ah yes, how is Angelica?"

"She's fine."

"Busy with her next book?"

"As always."

The waiter stopped by with menus, but I'd already decided what I wanted: Pepperoni pizza with extra cheese. Gregory ordered lasagne. Conversation flowed over two courses, easy talk about people we both knew from the old days and the new.

"Do you still fence?" I asked.

"Goodness, no. Its origins were in violence, and I'm a pacifist now. One thing my wife—ex-wife—taught me was that war is never the answer."

Ah yes, his ex-wife. What was the story there? Curiosity burned inside, but I didn't dare to ask. Was Phillipa's tale true? I decided to save that question for Angie later. After all, she knew every bit of gossip in a three-county radius.

"But what if the enemy doesn't hold the same beliefs about fighting? If they're bombing us, we're supposed to sit back and take it?"

He smiled, fork halfway to his mouth. "That's where dialogue comes in."

I wasn't sure I entirely agreed with him over that, but did it matter? Could two people have a relationship without agreeing on every little thing? Rupert had tended to share my views, to the extent that he often changed his to match, and sometimes his lack of backbone had annoyed me. I covered my eyes with one hand as I thought back to my brief marriage. That had been a match chosen by Mother, and where had it got me?

"Are you okay, darling?" Gregory asked.

"Great. Couldn't be better. This pizza tastes wonderful."

I'd been looking forward to homemade gelato for dessert, but Gregory assumed I didn't want any and called for the bill. Perhaps it was for the best—after all, three courses was hardly conducive to fitting into my dress for Mother's masquerade ball in two weeks' time. My deadline. I needed to make a decision by then—either to see where things went with the man sitting before me or throw myself at Beau's feet and my mother's mercy.