“I’m glad. I have a favor to ask before Fairhaven joins us.” She moved over to her daughter and bent. “Come along, Tillie. The floor is no place for a lady. Let’s retire to the parlor so we can sit properly.”
“I’ve got her.” He scooped her up into his arms, her delightful laugh warming his heart. He wondered if Fancy had been reprimanded in a similar manner when she was growing up, never allowed to truly be a child, but always cognizant of how oneshouldbehave instead of how one wanted to behave. He hoped her family hadn’t been quite as strict as his sister.
In the parlor, he set his niece down on the corner of the sofa. She immediately opened her book. His sister lowered herself to a spot beside her daughter and lovingly brushed her fingers over her dark hair. He took a nearby chair, absorbing the tranquil sight, feeling an unwanted ache in his chest because his life had yet to bring him similar moments.
Her hand never leaving her daughter’s hair, Sylvie looked over at him. “About this favor. I’m hosting a ball at the end of the month and it would be quite a coup for me if you were to make an appearance. As I’ve mentioned, you’re all the talk. Some good should come from this sabbatical from Society you’ve taken.”
Some good was coming of it. He was once again enjoying his life. “I have no desire to step into the whirl that is the Social Season.”
“But it will be the perfect opportunity for your foray back into Society. I have invited the most popular debutantes.”
He already knew he wasn’t interested in the ones who’d made an appearance at his door. “Would Fancy Trewlove be included on that list?”
Her head jerking back slightly as though he’d tweaked her nose, she blinked, blinked, and blinked again. “Not at the moment. I hadn’t yet decided if I would invite her. How do you know of her?”
“Her bookshop is in the same area as the residence I’m leasing. As a matter of fact, I purchased Tillie’s book from her this afternoon. I assume you met her at the Thornley ball.”
“I did. I found her to be beautiful, poised, and confident. To look at her, you wouldn’t know she was”—she glanced over at her daughter before lowering her voice to a whisper—“unlawful.”
“It seems to me that term should be used for those who don’t adhere to the laws, not those who have no say in how they are born.”
Her entire body gave a little twitch as though his words had been tiny stones pelted at her. “That’s certainly a novel thought. I’m not certain your avoidance of Society is to your benefit if it’s filling your head with such odd notions.”
He was ashamed to admit a time existed when he’d have judged Fancy by her origins rather than herself. “Invite Miss Trewlove to your ball.”
His sister went so still he wasn’t certain she continued to breathe. Very primly, she knitted her fingers together and folded them in her lap, her gaze sharp like a raven’s. “Why would I do that?”
“Because I asked.”
“She’s not accepted.”
“An invitation to your affair will make her so.”
“What is she to you?”
“A friend. She’s been kind to me. She wishes to move about in your world, and I want to make it easier for her to do so.” He didn’t particularly like the thought of other men taking her in their arms for a turn about the dance floor, but he wasn’t selfish enough to deny her what she wanted.
“Usually when a gentleman says a woman has beenkindit’s because she spread her legs for him.”
The fury that rent through him nearly made him tremble. “Such talk is beneath you, Sylvie.”
Her cheeks burned red. “You’re asking me to put my reputation on the line.”
“I’m asking you to show a kindness.”
“Will you attend?”
“No.” He stood. “I don’t believe I’ll be staying for dinner.”
Rising, she placed her hand on his arm. “I don’t want to have a row with you. You’re my only brother. I’ll think about inviting her, if you’ll think about coming.”
He nodded. Perhaps by the end of the month, he would have won Fancy over to such an extent that he’d have told her who he truly was. In which case, he would claim every one of her damned dances at the ball.
Chapter 16
If Matthew wanted to keep distance between them, he’d certainly selected the perfect boat for ensuring his goal. It was long with a flat bottom. Holding a white lacy parasol that Mick had given her a couple of years earlier, Fancy sat at one end, while Matthew stood at the other, impressing her as he stayed balanced while dropping the pole into the water and then pushing it back, guiding the craft through the stream.
“I assumed we were going rowing,” she said. Matthew had been waiting in a curricle for her near the park entrance. It seemed this gentleman of leisure had his own conveyance available to him, but wherever he stored it made it inconvenient to retrieve on short notice. But he’d made arrangements to have it on hand for this planned excursion.
