Titus summoned Buttons to accompany them as chaperone. The lady’s maid did not bother to hide her delight.
Miss Dodd accepted her pelisse from the butler and allowed Titus to hand her into the carriage. “Would it be easier to host small, intimate gatherings yourself in order to control their size and nature, rather than attend someone else’s soirée?”
He shuddered. “I should rather lock myself in my own valise than host a party of any number.”
She nodded thoughtfully, though he glimpsed what might have been the briefest flash of disappointment flicker in her eyes.
Damn it all, he did feel like an ogre. He hated society gatherings, but she clearly did not. Rather, Miss Dodd didn’t know if she enjoyed such events, because she was from a village smaller than his shoe. By refusing to escort her to any of London’s most celebrated entertainments, Titus was being grossly unfair to his ward.
He locked his jaw in disgust. Oh, very well. He would have his man of business write back to all the hosts whose correspondence met a fiery demise. He’d request replacement invitations to anything occurring in the next three weeks, and would specify Miss Dodd’s explicit inclusion if they wished the reclusive Earl of Gilbourne to consider attending.
They would all comply. His attendance would be a coup for any hostess, largely because he was unwed and wealthy—a horrific combination when trying to avoid entanglements of any kind. Debutantes and the desperate alike were willing to look beyond both surliness and scars if there was gold or a title in their future.
The carriage drew to a stop.
Miss Dodd peered in all directions as he handed her down. “Where are we?”
“Green Park,” Titus replied. “It’s the worst of the royal parks. No lake, no follies, no fashionable promenade. Forty-seven acres of plain green nature. At this hour, nobody fashionable is out of bed, much less having a promenade. There will be no one to converse with.”
“Besides each other,” she said with a happy smile. “If you love it, then so shall I.”
He gave her his elbow rather than respond. It was a horrifically beautiful day, which likely meant that his luck would not, in fact, hold, and their stroll would be beset upon by any number of other pedestrians.
For the first time, however, other people were not Titus’s primary concern. As they walked, he found himself scanning every inch of the path for tell-tale gossamer webs.
If this new preoccupation was disconcerting for him, he could not imagine how difficult it must be for Miss Dodd, who lived every moment of her entire life in fear of a spider springing out from nowhere. It was a wonder she was willing to go out into the world at all.
He was glad that at least for the moment, she needn’t do so all alone.
Chapter 20
Titus tried to enjoy the nature blooming around them, truly he did. Before becoming the sort of man who rarely left the four walls of his study, he had once been the sort of lad to run wild across fields of grass, pick flowers for his mother, climb trees with his brother, and spot birds with his father.
His description of Green Park to Miss Dodd may have been less than generous, but the truth was, Titus had always been happiest when surrounded by green spaces. The cool breezes and the fresh scents and the rustling leaves filled him with a peaceful calm he could not replicate anywhere else.
That had all been true… until now.
Today, his heart was anything but calm. He hadn’t spotted a single bird, because he was physiologically unable to tear his sidelong gaze from Miss Dodd. Every flower they passed, he wanted to snatch up for her. As for climbing trees—he had a suspicion she would enjoy that activity even more than receiving flowers.
He settled for scowling instead. If he could not control his reaction to her presence, at least he could dissuade her from glancing in his direction or attempting friendly conversation.
It didn’t work.
“What a lovely day,” she said with a happy sigh. “The park, the company, the soft warmth of the morning sun… No wonder the beau monde visit the royal parks all the time.”
She enjoyed the company? He shot her a skeptical look out of the corner of his eye.
“The ton don’t visit the parks. They visit Hyde Park. Not in the mornings, or every day, but from two to five in the afternoon on Sundays, as if reporting to a post for duty. And only during the season. They haven’t the least idea what the park itself looks like. The point of the drive and the promenade is to be seen by each other.”
She glanced up at him with curiosity, her hand still curved about his elbow. “How do you know so much about what the beau monde does and doesn’t do, if you don’t take part?”
“I grew up among them,” he reminded her. “I have been coached in proper behavior and the habits of the haut ton since I was old enough to toddle. Besides, their activities are printed in the morning paper as though their antics were as newsworthy as the war with Napoleon or the exchequer bills.”
She blinked. “Exchequer?”
“One of my committees,” he muttered. Why on earth was he even talking about this? He was becoming as loquacious as his ward. “Never mind. It’s not important.”
“It sounds like it’s very important. More important than the lords and ladies of polite society. I would like to visit the House of Lords and hear more about what truly matters.”
