Although he liked to believe he was not as superficial as others of his class, Heath was well aware that dallying with someone’s paid companion in any capacity, from courtship to stolen kisses, was completely out of the question.
Ms. Winfield wasn’t just below his station and in a peer’s employ. She was an innocent country girl who lived on a bloody sheep farm, which she willingly intended to return to. Heath could no more picture himself in her world than he could imagine her fitting into his.
Yet he could not keep her from infiltrating his every thought.
“There you are!” came a sharp voice from the corridor.
Although his mother did not precisely rush into the family parlor—a well-bred lady never rushed—the heightened rustling of her intricately embroidered gown betrayed her urgency.
Heath bowed. “I am, as always, at your service.”
“If that were true, you’d be wed by now. Which you have promised to take care of,” she added quickly, as if confirming that portion of her worries would soon resolve itself. She reclined on a chaise longue and gestured for him to take the wingback chair opposite. “I’ve called you here today to discuss what’s to be done with your sister.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “How odd. I distinctly recall your summons mentioned the family musicale.”
Mother threw up her hands in despair. “Dahlia refuses to perform in the musicale!”
“She hasn’t any musical ability,” Heath reminded his mother gently. “Surely you wouldn’t wish for your daughter to become the laughingstock of theton.”
“She’s doing that on her own,” Mother insisted with a sniff. “She could develop a skill as accomplished as her sisters if she devoted half as much time to proper feminine talents as she does to that ridiculous orphanage.”
“You know it’s not an orphanage. It’s a boarding school for indigent girls, and a very lovely cause. Dahlia has the biggest heart of anyone I know.”
“And the emptiest dance card.” Mother scowled at him. “You must stop encouraging her. I know you’ve been giving dancing lessons to those urchins. Things are dire. Dahlia’s association with that rookery has already begun to affect the quality of her Society invitations. If she keeps treating every ballroom like a golden opportunity to raise funds for some charity—”
“Any aristocratic gatheringisa golden opportunity to raise funds for a charity,” Heath pointed out.
Mother ignored him. “—then she will soon find herself with no invitations at all. Camellia may soon be wed, but I despair of finding anyone to take Dahlia!”
“Camellia has a beau?” Heath leaned forward with interest. If a wallflower as quiet as his sister had ensnared some young buck, he must be a very special gentleman indeed. “I had no idea.”
“Of course she hasn’t a beau. Do be serious. Your father will select one for her and have done.” Mother frowned. “If only it were that easy with Dahlia! Even with the size of her dowry, she is nothing but a—”
“—fine young woman,” Heath finished firmly. “There is nothing wrong with CamelliaorDahlia, Mother. Have you considered just letting them live their lives?”
She recoiled in repugnance. “I suppose next you’ll tell me that there’s nothing wrong with Bryony either, and we should all just let her run wild?”
“Bryony is completely and utterly mad,” Heath agreed cheerfully. “It’s one of her best qualities. One is never bored in her company. Or in any of the others’. I suggest you leave them be for a little while longer. They’re still young.”
“They may be younger thanyou, but they’re far from young.” Mother pursed her lips. “Camellia’s so high on the shelf that potential suitors don’t notice her presence, and Dahlia’s so far out to pasture she can’t even find her way home.”
Heath sighed. “What is it you wish for me to do, Mother?”
“I wish for you tofixit!” She glared at him. “Is that not what you do for everyone else under the sun? Don’t make a sour face; I’m quite proud of you. There cannot be a nobler hobby than upholding thebeau monde’s image.”
Amusing. His mother knew quite well that his efforts were far more than a mere hobby, but she would never allow a word likeprofessionto pass her lips in relation to her own children.
“Mother—”
“No, no. Don’t you start.” She arched a thin brow. “While your activities are unconventional to say the least, I heartily approve of any and all efforts to make the upper classes outshine themselves. My son is famous for fixing untidy little problems. I could die happy if he would only turn his efforts to fixing his own siblings.”
Heath’s temples pounded at the return of the same circular discussion.
He had no wish to “fix” his siblings. To change his strong, intelligent sisters into completely different people. He preferred them to pursue the lives they chose for themselves.
Although his mother had never understood such reasoning, women like Heath’s sisters were the reason he had become a problem-solver in the first place. Not out of affinity for the veneer oftonperfection, but to allow people the opportunity to live the lives they wished without being judged for their choices.
As far as he was concerned, gossip helped no one. He was happy to do his part to make scandals disappear. Quashing his sisters’ personalities, however, was going too far.
