He glanced critically at Eleanor, who rode beside him along the Row in Hyde Park. She was garbed in a stylish emerald green habit and jaunty military hat that set off her short raven curls and rosy complexion to perfection. “You look quite fetching,” he said approvingly.
Marcus’s irrepressible younger sister dimpled. “Thank you for the pretty compliment, but Madame Gautier deserves the credit. Not only can she work wonders with her needle, she has a marvelous sense of fashion. And as it happens, she was remarking just last week how she despaired of finding skilled seamstresses. Madame will be in raptures if this Peg has an aptitude for designing as well as fine stitching. I will arrange an interview and notify you about the particulars.”
Heath smiled his appreciation. “I knew I could count on you, love.”
Eleanor shook her head. “My contribution will be of small moment compared to Miss Loring’s efforts. I think her compassion for those women is exceedingly admirable. I didn’t realize she was so involved in philanthropy, however, although I knew her friend, Miss Blanchard, advocates for several charities.”
Heath had to admire Lily’s compassion as well. This was just the latest instance of her championing the helpless and the downtrodden, he reflected, remembering how her eyes had sparked when she spoke of the young women she had befriended.
“Lily says the same thing about Miss Blanchard,” Heath commented.
“Perhaps I will ask Miss Blanchard how I might aid her charities,” Eleanor said thoughtfully, before she sent Heath a curious glance. “So does this mean your courtship of Miss Loring is prospering?”
Heath shrugged. “Well enough.”
He couldn’t help but chuckle at her teasing. A lively minx, Eleanor was like the sister he had never had. He’d known her since she was born, and she had managed to wrap him around her finger from the time she was a toddler.
In some ways she reminded him greatly of Lily, for they shared many of the same qualities; both young ladies were charming and endearing, forthright, independent, and generous in nature. At twenty, Eleanor was actually a year younger than Lily, but she had far more experience with the courting game, having been on the Marriage Mart for two Seasons. And since her comeout, Nell had been betrothed twice. Both times she’d broken off the engagement, much to the dismay of her aunt, Lady Beldon.
“As soon as I have anything of consequence about my courtship to report,” Heath offered, “you will be among the first to know.”
“That doesn’t sound very promising. Are you certain you don’t need my help in wooing Miss Loring? I was able to advise Drew on how to romance Roslyn.”
“For someone who has jilted two suitors, Nell, you make a odd matchmaker.”
Eleanor smiled impishly. “Indeed. But merely because I have resolved to remain single, doesn’t mean I cannot aid the course of true love.”
“Ah, yes. You are a hopeless romantic.”
“So I am. Which is precisely why I ended my betrothals-because neither of my fiances could love me the way I wished to be loved. But miraculously, Marcus and Drew found love, so I still hold out hope for myself, and for you as well.”
Heath had no ready reply for her. He’d never lost his heart, but the notion that Lily could inspire that particular malady had a definite appeal. If anyone could tempt him to fall in love, it would be Lily. He wondered if he could tempt her to love him in return…
“Perhaps,” he drawled in response to Nell’s observation, “you should concentrate on your own affairs of the heart and not worry so much about mine.”
Eleanor made a face at him. “I expected you to say that. But I still am rather stunned that you are considering donning marriage shackles.”
He was a little stunned as well, Heath reflected. He’d never wanted to be tied down to just one woman. Until recently he had been a dedicated bachelor, devoted to a life of freedom and adventure, resolutely determined never to be locked in a tedious, insipid, passionless union merely for the sake of carrying on his illustrious title. But since his courtship of Lily, he had come to the realization that he could be content with the chains of matrimony if she were his jailor.
“But I
That was certainly true, Heath agreed. He’d never expected to find a wife who could be such a perfect match for him, as Lily would.
His own parents had been poorly matched, nearly opposites in character and outlooks on life. His mother had been gay and charming and full of laughter; his father staid and proper and dull to the point of grimness. A grimness that only compounded after Lady Claybourne’s death as the marquess retreated further into himself.
As a child, Heath had cherished his mother’s joie de vivre, although admittedly she had been concerned with her own pleasure above all else. Unlike Lily, who was concerned for everyone
Whether or not he could have a love match with Lily, however, he wanted her for his wife. Not just to bear him heirs, as he’d first planned. Not merely to alleviate his boredom or to grace his bed, either, although those were excellent reasons to wed her.
No, he wanted Lily for herself. Her liveliness, her intensity, her passion for life called to him. As did her fierceness, since it was tempered by warmth and softness and compassion. Lily stirred him like no other woman ever had.
Yet it would be unwise, he warned himself, to let his feelings for her grow any stronger when she had closed off her heart to any possibility of love. For the first time in his life he had met a woman whose defenses might be insurmountable.
Which frustrated the devil out of him, since he wanted his union with Lily to be much more than the cold marriage of convenience his parents had known.
He wanted more from his courtship of Lily, as well. He wanted to be able to venture out in public together, to ride with her in the park as he did with Eleanor, to attend plays and garden parties and enjoy all the other small intimacies that normal suitors were permitted. Most of all, he wanted to claim Lily for his own.
Yet that moment seemed a long way off.
Hell, perhaps his decision to stop overtly wooing Lily was a mistake. He had visibly slowed his pursuit of her to allow time for her feelings toward him to soften, reasoning that he could lower her resistance if she felt less pressured by his courtship. But his strategy might be having no effect at all.
Shaking off his frustration, Heath returned his attention to his charming companion. As close as he was to Eleanor, however, he didn’t want to discuss his relationship with Lily any longer.
“You stun me also, Nell,” he said to change the subject. “Since when would you rather amble along at this snail’s pace, chattering about matrimony instead of enjoying a good gallop?”
“You make an excellent point,” Eleanor replied, gathering her reins.
“Shall we race to the end of the lake?” he challenged.
“You are on!” Eleanor exclaimed, digging her heel into her horse’s side, leaving an amused Heath to eat her dust and make yet another comparison with his spirited Lily.
He called on Lily that afternoon to report on Eleanor’s progress: A meeting had been arranged for Peg with Madame Gautier the following morning. When summoned to the parlor to hear the news, Peg was overjoyed at the prospect of finding respectable employment at the modiste’s shop, and she thanked Heath profusely.
Betty’s response, however, was altogether different at first. The girl appeared nervous and intimidated when Heath questioned her about her wishes for her future, stammering out her replies. Yes, milord, a husband might be welcome at some point, and yes, she would be very happy to return to the country. But for now she only wanted safety for herself and the chance to bear her baby without fear of finding herself on the streets again. When Heath offered her sanctuary at his family estate under the aegis of his housekeeper, Betty stared at him for a long
