“You will. And I will ensure that you do.”
His resolute tone made her ease away and tilt her head back.
“How, um, do you plan to do that?”
“I will begin by paying Lady Fayne a visit,” he said. “To learn more about this charity of yours.”
Thinking of Charlie’s reaction, Fi said hastily, “I am certain that isn’t necessary—”
“For my peace of mind, it is. I am offering a compromise, Fiona.”
Rebellion warred with pragmatism. While she did not like Hawk’s interference, his request was not unreasonable. She could concede to his wish…even if she did not like it.
“Fine. I will arrange a visit,” she said ungraciously. “But you will find it boring.”
Once I send word to Charlie, she will undoubtedly make it so.
“I can only hope.”
“What if I wish to learn more aboutyourwork?” she asked meaningfully.
His smile was bland. “You are welcome to attend any of my meetings. The Society for Advanced Mathematics, for instance, is having a gathering next week.”
The blasted man had an answer for everything.
“Sounds scintillating,” she muttered.
“It is. Not nearly as scintillating as this, however.”
The world spun as he scooped her into his arms.
Looping her arms around his neck, she said, “I’m not certain I am done being annoyed at you.”
“You’re done.” His eyes gleamed. “Which means we get to move on to the best part of fighting.”
“That being?”
“Making up.”
Twenty-Eight
Seated in the well-appointed drawing room, Hawk accepted a cup of tea from Lady Fayne. He found the lapsang souchong tailored to his taste: no cream or sugar to detract from the smoky flavor. Odd that his hostess would know his precise preference…but perhaps Fiona had mentioned it.
God knew he needed the strong brew. His visit with the Society of Angels thus far had been soporific, to say the least. Upon their arrival, he and Fiona had been greeted by Lady Fayne and the other Angels: Lady Olivia, Lady Glory, and Pippa, the dowager Countess of Longmere and now Mrs. Timothy Cullen. Since Hawk had known Pippa since he was a lad, they’d exchanged friendly hellos. Then Lady Fayne had given him a tour of the house and described how the Angels spent their time.
Detail by excruciating detail.
At their mentor’s behest, Lady Glory and Pippa had shown him their embroidery projects. Apparently, the ladies sold the decorated handkerchiefs to raise funds for the causes they supported. Lady Glory demonstrated the stitches she used—at least a dozen different kinds—until he fantasized about grabbing her needle and poking himself in the eye to end his misery.
That had been the first hour.
Then Lady Fayne had bade Lady Olivia to read the latest treatise they had been working on. Entitled“A Vindication of Mary Wollstonecraft’s Vindication: Further Thoughts on the Status of Women,”the tome had looked as if it weighed more than its reader. With Pippa’s help, Lady Olivia had managed to haul the volume onto a lectern. Then she’d proceeded to read.
As a man not unused to pontification, Hawk struggled to keep his eyelids from drooping as Lady Olivia droned on. Twice, he started when Fiona nudged him with her elbow. The reading seemed to go on for an eternity before Lady Fayne interrupted.
“Thank you for reading the Preface, Livy,” she said. “Glory, my dear, will you take over for Chapter One? Unless, my lord, you would prefer some tea first?”
“Yes.” Hawk had grabbed onto the diversion like a drowning man to a piece of driftwood. “That is, tea sounds capital.”
