Claybourne gave a bland nod. “Guilty as charged.”
Her eyes narrowed. “So you were shamelessly eavesdropping?”
“I was curious. Do you always talk to yourself, Miss Loring?”
“Sometimes. But in this case I am speaking to the cat…Actually
“Would you care to explain what you are doing up there in the loft?”
“If you mush…must know…I am feeding her.”
“You came here to feed the stable cat?” His tone held surprise and a hint of disbelief.
“Should I have let her starve?” Lily asked rhetorically. “Boots is an excellent mouser, but at the moment she has more important tasks to occupy her, namely taking care of her kittens.”
His handsome mouth quirked. “Do you mean to remain there with the cats?”
“No. I will come down as soon as my head clears. I seem…to have drunk a bit too much champagne.” To her chagrin, she was too dizzy just now to climb safely down the ladder to escape Lord Claybourne’s unwanted presence.
“Then you won’t mind if I join you,” he said, moving across the aisle to put a foot on the lowest wooden rung.
Yes, she minded! Lily sat up abruptly, wondering how she could prevent him from imposing his company upon her. “You cannot climb up here, my lord!” she exclaimed, yet her protest obviously had no effect, since his head soon appeared above the ledge.
“I believe I can. I plan to keep you company.”
With his torso in view, he paused to survey her with interest.
“You will get your coat dusty,” Lily said lamely, eying his elegantly tailored evening coat of burgundy superfine-Weston, no doubt-that fitted those magnificent shoulders to perfection.
“My coat will survive.” His gaze raked over her own attire. “What about you? You are wearing a ball gown.”
“That is different. I don’t care about clothing.”
When his eyebrow shot up, Lily realized that her retort could have two meanings. “I d-don’t mean that I like to go
“How novel.” His tone turned wry as he climbed the last few rungs and settled a hip on the loft’s edge. “It strains the imagination. You must be the first female I have ever met who isn’t interested in fancy gowns.”
“But you see, I am not normal, my lord. I am very
“Is that so?” he replied, easing himself closer to sit beside her.
Even in the dim light, she could see that his hazel eyes were dancing. He was laughing at her!
Stiffening her spine, Lily opened her mouth to remonstrate, but he spoke first. “What is so abnormal about you, angel? You look exceedingly normal to me.”
When his gaze drifted downward again over her body, Lily pressed her hands to her flaming cheeks and willed herself to calm down-which was deplorably difficult considering the fluttery, flustered sensations that were racing through her at his lordship’s close proximity.
Stretching up to her full sitting height, she tried to appear regal and made her tone dampening as she replied. “I
“I have little doubt about that.”
She shot him an exasperated look. “The thing is, I should have been born male. I would have been mush happier.”
“Oh, and are you so unhappy now?”
In her slightly inebriated state, her thoughts were more sluggish than usual, and she had to consider his question for a moment. “Well…no. I like my life quite well. But women have little of the freedom that men enjoy.”
“What freedom would you like to enjoy, love?”
Lily bit her lower lip, abashed at how her tongue was running away from her. Yet she couldn’t seem to help herself; the champagne had loosened her tongue deplorably. “Never mind. Don’t listen to me, my lord. I don’t hold my liquor at all well.”
“So it would seem. What made you drink so much then?”
“I was drowning my sorrows, if you insist on knowing.”
“What sorrows?”
“At losing my sister to matrimony. I was indulging in a bout of melancholy. But it was supposed to be
Instead of retreating down the loft ladder, he smiled and leaned back, casually resting his weight on his palms and crossing his long, satin-clad legs in front of him, as if settling in for a long stay.
Lily exhaled in a huff. “I don’t think you comprehend the danger you are in, Lord Claybourne. It is a grave mistake for you to be alone with me. If Winifred knew, she would be ecstatic.”
“Winifred?”
“Lady Freemantle. She is the main reason I left the ball early-to escape her scheming. She is trying to mash…match me with you. You must have noticed.”
Her allegation didn’t seem to alarm him as it should. “Perhaps, but her machinations are no worse than usual. I’m well-accustomed to eager mamas throwing their daughters at my head.”
Lily grimaced in disgruntlement. “Perhaps
His eyes were dancing again. “I should think not.”
At his blithe reply, exasperation welled up in Lily full force. “Do you not
“But you don’t intend to.”
“Certainly not! I have no interest in marriage.”
“That is quite a unique perspective for a young lady. Most women have made it their mission in life to find a husband.”
“True. But you needn’t worry about me hounding you, Lord Claybourne. Oh, I know you are a prime catch. You are disgustingly rich, you have a vaunted title, you aren’t so shabby in appearance, and you are said to be irresistibly charming.”
“But you aren’t swayed by this delightful catalog of my attributes.”
“Not in the least.” Lily smiled faintly to soften the harshness of her observation. “No doubt you have a bevy of lovestruck admirers, but I will never join their ranks. And I have no intention of behaving like all the other flagrant husband-hunters you know. I won’t chase after you.”
“You relieve my mind, Miss Loring. I don’t enjoy being chased.” From the provocative laughter in his voice, he seemed to be enjoying himself far too much. “But I am quite curious to know why you have such a profound distaste for marriage.”
Lily drew a deep breath. Hoyden or not, she normally would never dream of discussing her personal affairs with a perfect stranger. But in this case, she was eager to be rid of him, so a liberal dose of frankness might stand her in good stead.
“In my experience marriage usually leads to unhappiness for a woman,” she said honestly.
“You speak from personal experience?”
Lily made a face. “Unfortunately, yes. My parents’ union was hostile enough to give me an aversion to matrimony for life.”
The gleaming light in Claybourne’s eyes faded as he studied her. His searching perusal was more unsettling than his amusement, however.
“I don’t need a husband,” she hurried to add, “despite what proper society decrees for young ladies. I am financially independent now, thanks to the generous settlement Marcus made me. So I can have a fulfilling life without having to marry.”