"There's nothing to forgive. Unlike you, I had not seen my father in several years. We were... not close," she said.
"But still..." He hesitated, and then his voice softened as he added, "It seems we have a great deal in common. More than just our ages."
His gaze swept the table before it came back to her face. There was a decided gleam of amusement in the depths of his eyes. Very attractive eyes, Annie acknowledged with a touch of surprise. They were not hazel, of course, but they were attractive. And right now they were alive with mischief.
Her own eyes made the same quick appraisal of their table mates and then returned to his. Although she fought against revealing it, she suspected hers were equally alight with amusement. Because he was right, of course.
"There is my guardian," she said, her gaze finding Ian, who was seated beside their hostess at the other end of the table.
His head was tilted towards Lady Laud, who seemed to be regaling him with some lengthy anecdote. Annie had glanced at him several times before now and had found him always engaged in conversation, quite properly of course, with his hostess or another of the guests seated around him.
"I confess I was thinking of Major Sinclair as a contemporary of your father's. I take it he is not."
Annie's eyes came back to Travener, unconsciously examining his features. It was obvious that whatever time he has spent on the Peninsula, his experiences there had not marked him in the same way they had marked Ian.
"He seems older because of what he has endured," she said softly.
"He was severely wounded, I believe," Travener acknowledged. "I'm afraid i don't remember the details."
"And you will never hear them from him."
"You admire him a great deal."
She did, of course, but she hadn't realized she had made her feelings so obvious. "I owe him a great deal," she said, her gaze again unconsciously finding her guardian. "I should not be here tonight if it were not for Mr Sinclair."
"Indeed?" Travener asked, bringing her eyes back to him.
"No matter what Mr Sinclair says, I don't believe my father made provision for my Season. I think the idea to bring me out was my guardian's as were the funds expended to accomplish it."
It was only when she had voiced the last that she realized this was hardly a suitable topic of conversation with a gentleman. Not only was it none of Mr Travener's business where the money for her Season had come from, it was highly improper of her to have brought it up in the first place.
"Forgive me," she said. "You can't possibly be interested in those arrangements. I'm still a trifle nervous about keeping up my end of any conversation. And I am deeply grateful to my guardian for his many kindnesses.
I believe those two things led me to make confidences that would have been better not made."
"I was afraid that what I heard in your voice when you spoke of Major Sinclair might be... something more than gratitude."
"Afraid?" she questioned, a hint of coolness in her tone.
"You see, I was hoping for permission to call on you."
Despite Travener's attentiveness tonight, she was surprised. And she was also flattered, of course. In spite of Elizabeth and Ian's compliments, she had never expected to attract the attention of a handsome gentleman on her first outing. Actually, she had never been exposed to attract any gentleman's attention, but if someone like Doyle Travener could find her attractive...
Again her eyes sought her guardian. Ian was smiling at something the lady on his left was whispering to him behind her fan. Annie's gaze lingered there until Travener's next question brought her attention back to him.
"Do I have your permission, Miss Darlington?"
Permission to call on her. Did she want him to? Perhaps if Ian realized Mr Travener was dancing attendance on her, he himself would begin to regard her less paternally. Another fantasy, she supposed, but still...
"I believe you must properly apply to my guardian for permission, Mr Travener."
"But I may tell him that you, yourself, do not object?"
"If my guardian approves, I should be delighted to receive you."
*~*~*~*
"Did you enjoy yourself?" Ian asked on the way home.
After a moment, Annie turned her head to look at him, seeming reluctant to pull her gaze from the darkened streets outside. She was smiling, however, and he thought that in the quality of that smile he could see the effects of the wine she had consumed. It was relaxed, perhaps even contemplative.
Had she been thinking about Doyle Travener as she gazed out of the window? His flattering attentions throughout the evening could be cause for contemplation, Ian supposed. And enough to turn the head of someone as impressionable as Annie.