“Still confused about why I might want you for my wife?”
She nodded.
“Here’s a clue.Look within yourself.”
“Haven’t I been doing that?Tell me more.”
But the waltz ended, and with it their conversation.
Davenport escorted her back to her aunt and uncle.
She spent the remainder of the rout staying close to her Aunt Sophie.
When Lady Fullerton’s affair ended, Davenport followed Tulip and her family home.
Since coming to London she had resided with John and Sophie, for they were the ones sponsoring her for the Season that had now drawn to its end.They lived on Chipping Way, a charming garden oasis within London.
There were only six homes on this tree-lined street and Farthingales resided in three of them.Lady Dayne, grandmother of Gabriel Dayne, the earl who had married John and Sophie’s daughter, Daisy, owned the fourth home.
John led Davenport into his study the moment they arrived home.
John’s brothers and Sophie followed him in.
Tulip thought Davenport might need an ally and attempted to follow after them, but Rupert held her back.“Be patient, Tulip.We will call you in shortly.”
She wound up standing in the entry hall with Pruitt, the faithful family butler.“Ah, what a surprise,” he remarked in his light, Scottish brogue as some of Tulip’s cousins made their way up the walk despite the lateness of the hour.
She sighed and greeted them at the front door.“Hello, Marigold.Violet.Holly.Dahlia.”Then some of John’s daughters marched in.“How nice to see you, Dillie.Daisy.Rose.”
Several had brought their husbands along.
Dillie was happily married to the Duke of Edgeware.Although her name was Daffodil, everyone knew her as Dillie.Perhaps it was because she had an identical twin called Lily, and those names rhymed.
Lily and Dillie.
Two peas in a pod.
“I see you have followed in the proud family tradition of making an utter wreck of your Season and necessitating a hasty marriage,” Dillie remarked with a trill of laughter and gave her a quick hug.“Well done.”
Tulip groaned.“Oh, we should not find this amusing at all.Poor Davenport.We hardly exchanged two words in all these months, and now he is forced to marry me.”
Marigold shook her head.“That man cannot be forced to do anything he does not wish to do.”
“That is what he told me, too,” Tulip admitted.
Marigold greeted Pruitt before turning her attention back to Tulip.“I am not surprised.I thought my Leo was tough as old boots, but Davenport is just like him.Wild horses could not have dragged them to doing something they did not wish to do.You must stop worrying about him.Perhaps he has held a secret torch for you all the while.”
“Him?Desiring me?”She shook her head and laughed at the hilarity of it.“Not possible.”
“Stop belittling yourself, Tulip,” Rose insisted.“You are exceptionally pretty, so how could he resist?”
“No prettier than dozens of other young ladies who made their debut this year.”
Rose shrugged off her remark.“He might have seen you at some of the British Museum lectures or noticed you touring the Huntsford Academy exhibits and realized you had a brain.He might have overheard you talking to others at a dinner party and liked your cleverness and wit.Obviously, he has seen something worthy in you.”
She thought it was ironic that Rose, now a viscountess who was also a brilliant artist and ran a successful pottery and glassworks business, should be complimenting her.
“Hush,” Daisy said, bending down and putting her ear to the door.“I cannot hear a word of what they are saying.But Davenport sounds awfully calm.”
