“Indeed. While my father is gone, my mother is still alive to plague my days. I also have a sister, Melinda, who is happily married. At least it appears that way to me for she has nine children.”
“Nine?” Araminta echoed, as she looked at him in surprise.
The set of his mouth was too enticing by half. “Surely having a family of your own someday is an aspiration you hold?”
“On the contrary,” she returned, trying not to be too affected by the smooth, deep timbre of his voice. “My sisters and I are determined to live by independent means.”
“And yet, you all live together,” he pointed out.
“For now, yes,” she admitted with a laugh. “But only until we decide what business venture we wish to embark on. It’s convenient, for the moment, for us to stay at our father’s former townhouse while we get our foothold in society. But eventually, we intend to go our separate ways.”
He appeared skeptical. “So you’re not hoping to join the marriage mart?”
She shook her head. “Not at all. However, you never know what business prospects you might uncover when you are dancing the waltz.”
“I see.”
Araminta wasn’t sure if he sounded impressed or… something else. She just prayed it wasn’t censure. She was quite sure they would have enough of that before the Christmas season was over.
Grey was ratherdisappointed to hear that the lady had no designs on marriage, when that was what he was hoping to gain from her. Ironically enough, he wasn’t even sure why he’d suddenly set his sights on Lady Araminta Bevelstroke, pondering that fact much of the night before as he’d returned home. He decided it was merely that, of all the other ladies he’d met in London, he knew that life with her would never be boring. Just the short time he’d been in her company, he could tell she was a strong, intelligent woman. If the determined glint in her eye and her speech today hadn’t proven that, as she’d sat at the theatre last night with complete confidence, her head held high, back straight, and shoulders square, it would have proven his theory. Combined with the fact she was rather comely, he imagined they could make a rather comfortable match together.
The issue he would undoubtedly face is trying to convince her of the same thing.
“So you have no desire to wed?” he prodded.
She laughed, the delightful sound going straight to his groin. “I don’t know why people find that so difficult to believe. I am a woman, but that doesn’t mean I can’t make my own way. Several women in history have done just that. Look at Jane Austen.”
He slanted a glance at her. “You do know that she wrote her novels anonymously.”
“But—” She held up a hand. “She made sure to note that the author was aladyand in spite of her gender, she was quite successful.”
“So your aspirations are to be a writer then?” he asked curiously.
She shrugged. “Honestly, I’m not sure yet. I said we’re all still considering our options, but that is what is good about being independent. I don’t have a husband telling me what I can or cannot do. As a single woman, I have the chance to let my voice be heard, instead of—” Her cheeks abruptly colored, likely from embarrassment, for Grey had a good idea of what she’d been about to say.
“Instead of wasting away with a brood of children?” he guessed and her face merely burned brighter.
“I didn’t mean to infer anything derogatory toward your sister,” she explained, and he noted that she appeared sincere. “She made her choice, and I have made mine. Our paths are just different.”
Grey considered his next move, and then decided that if he wished to win over the lady, he would have to play by her rules. She might think that she didn’t want to marry, but she obviously hadn’t had the chance to be convinced otherwise.
He intended to change her mind.
With a slight smile curving his lips, he knew just what to do.
Three
“Livy? Are you ready, dearest?” Araminta knocked on her youngest sister’s bedchamber door. “We’re all waiting for you downstairs.”
As Araminta waited for Olivia to answer her summons, her mind drifted back to Lord Somers. She’d had a rather nice time conversing with him that afternoon, and much of their interlude had been swirling through her mind after she’d returned home. In truth, she could have spent more time in his company, but she hadn’t wanted to be late to their first social event at the widowed Countess of Everlake’s home.
The door opened slightly, and Olivia stood there in a light green satin gown. She would have looked perfectly charming if her expression didn’t match the color of her dress. Her jade eyes were wide and almost fearful. “Must I go?”
“Yes,” Araminta said firmly. She knew that her sister preferred her fictional characters to those in real life, but she would never get past her nervousness if Araminta didn’t shove her out of the house now and again. But seeing the dismay on Olivia’s face still tore at her heart. She reached out and took her sister’s cold hand in her own. “It’s not as if you have to dance. It’s to be a small gathering filled with parlor games. Doesn’t that sound fun?” she cajoled. “I know how much you love to play Spillkins.”
Olivia wavered for a moment and then sighed heavily. “Very well.” She moved into the hall and Araminta considered that to be a victory, however small. She threaded Livy’s arm through her own and together they descended the stairs.
As she caught Isa’s eye, she could see the relief in her elder sister’s gaze, while Calliope stopped her pacing and said in a huff, “Finally!”
