“No.”
Her face crumpled as though he’d admitted to using opium.
“I’m enjoying the independence, the solitude.” Besides, his terrace was too small to house live-in staff. It was working out quite well to have Mrs. Bennett pop by each morning to tidy up after him.
“I daresay, darling, he looks healthier now than he did when he came to London two months ago. He was so pale and wan then.”
“And thin. Yes, I know. You do look as though you’ve filled out a bit. You were wasting away, and I was so worried. I know Elise’s passing was difficult, but then so was your marriage. I wish you’d been able to find it within your heart to forgive her for placing you in a position of having to marry her.”
He had to an extent, although he’d told Elise he had forgiven her completely, in hopes of easing her journey from this world into the next. While he no longer harbored the anger at her betrayal, neither could he forget how easily he’d been manipulated. Elise had sworn she’d not planned to trick him, but then a guilty person once caught always claimed innocence.
When the ladies had begun calling after the letter appeared, he’d studied each one, wondering how she planned to entrap him. They’d each been so eager to gain his attention. With so many vying for the role of his countess, the competition was fierce. How many would decide drastic measures were required to gain what they wanted? He knew full well it wasn’t him personally but his title that called to them.
“Speaking of forgiveness, have you forgiven me for carrying out Elise’s wishes?” It was his sister Elise had entrusted with her letter.
“I don’t hold you responsible. You didn’t know the trouble it would cause.”
“Honestly, I don’t understand why you can’t see that she did it with your best interest at heart.”
“May we speak of something else? Are you making the most of the Season, attending balls?”
She brightened. She thrived in a social environment. He suspected Miss Trewlove would as well. He wondered if she’d been pleased by his package when it arrived and had no doubt that it had been delivered because Jenkins was dependable and would see to the task. He wished he’d been in the store browsing when she’d opened it so he could have seen her reaction. Even knowing it was an incredibly valuable item, far too costly for a gentleman to give a lady, he had no regrets for sending it to her. He had little doubt if she knew from whence it came, she’d have not accepted it. Anonymity had been his only course of action.
“Oh yes,” Sylvie enthused, bringing him from his thoughts. “Of course, I’m accosted at every event, mostly by mamas wanting to ensure I alert you that their daughters are available. You could have your pick of the lot, you know.”
Because of the damned letter. He could even have Fancy Trewlove, if he wanted. All he had to do was confess his identity, and she would fall at his feet like all the others. Only he didn’t want her to want him because of the letter or his title or the fact that he could place her on a pedestal within Society. He longed to be wanted for who he was without all the paraphernalia that came with beingwhathe was.
He wanted to feel again the way he’d felt last night. His time with her had been refreshing. No insincere flirtation, no seeking of attention. Simply an enjoyment of each other’s company, an easing into a friendship, without pressure or expectations.
“Will you be attending the Duke and Duchess of Thornley’s ball?” He’d found an invitation to it in the stack he’d taken from his residence in the early hours of the morning. He imagined Fancy clutching the clipping from theTimesto her breast.Do, please, invite the Earl of Rosemont.
“Absolutely. That affair is all the talk. I wouldn’t dare not go. You no doubt received an invitation. You should attend.”
“I’m not in the mood to be accosted by every mama in attendance.”
“You will never find happiness if you keep yourself cloistered away. Honestly, Matthew, you must get on with things. You’re all of twenty-seven and our family has a tendency to have difficulty breeding—if you delay much longer, you might not get your heir.”
“I’m not in want of a brood mare, Sylvie.”
“I didn’t mean to imply you were, but surely with a bit of effort, you could find a woman well suited to you, more suited than Elise, say.”
Saved from having to comment on his sister’s assertions when the butler arrived to announce that dinner was served, he followed the couple to the formal dining room with every bit of silver perfectly aligned. Suddenly he had an intense urge to be sitting on steps outside a raunchy theater, eating a meat pie, and wiping crumbs from an incredibly delectable mouth.
Fancy didn’t open her shop on Sundays. It was a day of rest, although she seldom rested. That morning she’d attended church with her mother and then helped prepare a lovely meal. All her siblings, except for Beast, and their spouses were gathered elbow to elbow at the long oak table that dominated the room in the small dwelling in which they’d all been raised. As the family had increased in size, so her siblings had replaced the table, but it was time for a bigger one, especially as soon, with luck, Fancy’s husband would be joining them for the monthly Sunday luncheon when they gathered to catch up. It seemed of late, their lives were all going in different directions and so they made a point of not losing touch with each other.
“Two more nights, my love, and then you step from this drab world into a fancy one. Are you nervous?”
Fancy gave a light, staccato laugh. “I wasn’t until you mentioned it, Mum.” She’d been striving very hard not to think about the upcoming ball, about how everything would change. Although yesterday morning’s delivery had gone a long way to keeping her thoughts occupied.
“Are you going to wear the white frock with all the pearls?”
While her sisters-by-marriage had suggested she go to Paris to have her ball gowns made, and had even offered to accompany her, she’d decided to use Gillie’s seamstress instead. The young woman, extremely skilled with a needle, was striving to build her business, an endeavor aided by the fact that one of her clients was now a duchess. Fancy had also liked the notion of staying in London so her mum could accompany her, and help her select the fabric and styles. Knowing her mum wouldn’t attend any of the balls, she’d wanted to include her in as many aspects of her Season as possible. “Most certainly. It’s my favorite of the lot.”
“How will you wear your hair?”
“We’ll bring her by on the way to the ball, Mum, so you can see her in all her splendor,” Mick said.
“That would be lovely, Mick.” Reaching out, Mum placed her hand over Fancy’s where it rested on the table. Fancy always sat to her left, near her mum’s heart—or so her mother would say when Fancy was younger and she was telling her where to sit. Tears pooled in her eyes. “You’re going to have your fancy life.”
