“Alana?”
The footman who had been holding the coach door open for her closed it again for Mary’s sake as Alana turned at the sound of her name. Speaking of the devil, she thought with some amusement. Adam was doffing his hat to her. She gave him a warm smile. She was always relaxed in his presence and attributed it to his amiability and wonderful sense of humor.
“I didn’t forget what day this is,” Lord Chapman continued, and handed her a bouquet of yellow flowers. “A momentous day for most young ladies.”
She wished he hadn’t used the word momentous. It reminded her of what awaited her at home.
“Thank you,” she said. “But where on earth did you find flowers, so late in the year?”
“I have my sources.” He grinned mysteriously, but then laughed and confessed, “My mum keeps a hothouse, well, her gardeners do. Wouldn’t catch her mucking about in the dirt, even for pretty results.”
His parents lived in Mayfair, but Adam had told her he had his own flat just down the street from the orphanage, and once or twice a week she would find him passing by. He always stopped to converse with her, listening to her anecdotes about the children with interest, and divulging bits and pieces of his own life.
Alana had met Adam because Annette had known him before she’d married Lord Hensen. He’d been walking by the orphanage one afternoon when Alana and Annette had been leaving, and he’d greeted Annette warmly. He’d kept showing up to try to renew their acquaintance, but while Annette was polite, her manner turned cool and aloof every time she saw him. She would never say why, despite Alana’s probing. But she’d stopped accompanying Alana to the orphanage. That, however, didn’t stop Adam from showing up.
Alana had been flattered when he’d turned his attention to her. How could she not be when he was so handsome and charming? He was in his early thirties, the same age as Annette, but he looked much younger.
Alana thought about once again inviting Adam to dinner so he could meet Poppie, but—no, not today. She’d invited him a few times before, but her timing hadn’t been good because he’d already been committed elsewhere. But soon.
It was getting too cold to stand there on the curb for these little chats, though, and Mary must have thought so as well because she opened the coach door to remind Alana, “It’s time to go, m’dear.”
“Indeed,” Adam agreed, and took her hand to help her into the coach, then said with a jaunty grin, “Until the next time we happen to cross paths.”
Alana laughed as he closed the door. Their meetings always seemed to be happenstance, but they weren’t. He knew exactly what time she left the orphanage, and that was always when he would walk by so they could have one of their chats at curbside.
An earl’s son, his family rich, Adam was the kind of young man Poppie would certainly approve of. And he’d given her flowers today! That was definitely a sign that he was ready to take their relationship up a step. Had he only been waiting until she turned eighteen to start courting her? Quite possibly. He’d even mentioned the word marriage last month, though she was pretty sure it had only been something about how the time was approaching for him to start thinking about it. She couldn’t even remember why he’d mentioned it, though that was when he’d actually become her third decision. Or he would be, if he got around to courting her in the proper way.
Chapter Three
ALANA WAS RARELY NERVOUS. Perhaps she felt a little apprehensive when a new tutor was scheduled to arrive, but that was nothing compared to what she was feeling now as she walked down the hall to Poppie’s office. What if Poppie insisted she keep to the path Lady Annette had laid out for her two years ago? Annette had been preparing Alana for her come-out in London society. She assumed that Alana would want to do the same thing other young ladies her age were being groomed to do. Alana had been looking forward to the endless round of balls and dinner parties where she would meet potential suitors—before she’d discovered how gratifying it was to open young minds to possibilities they’d never before considered. She couldn’t imagine quitting her work at the orphanage.
But she knew the two worlds weren’t compatible. “You’ll have to give up teaching, you know,” Annette had recently warned her. “You’ve spent a year there, which is very generous of you, but it’s got nothing to do with your future.”
And her friend Harriet, who was the younger sister of one of Annette’s old friends, had echoed Annette’s warnings: “Don’t expect your husband to allow you to be so charitable with your time. He’ll expect you to stay at home and raise your own children.”
There was Alana’s dilemma. That was why she favored Adam and wished he’d be more clear about his intentions. Not because she loved him, but because she appreciated that he admired her dedication to the children. He had said so a number of times. He wouldn’t forbid her to continue teaching if he was her husband.
Her feet moved more briskly now as she made her way to Poppie’s office. Henry had helped her to make her decision. She was nervous, yes, but only about what Poppie had on his mind, not about her own decision. She just hoped he wasn’t going to tell her that her trips to the orphanage must come to an end now that her come-out was almost upon them and the Season was about to begin. That was the only thing she could imagine he’d been brooding over.
His office was one of her favorite rooms in the large, three-story town house. It was cozy, especially in winter when the fireplace was lit. It was bright, too, because it was a corner room with two walls of windows and light cream-colored wallpaper that contrasted with the darker furnishings. She’d spent many a night there reading with Poppie, sometimes aloud. Or just talking. He always wanted to hear about her studies.
Poppie said nothing when she quietly entered the room. He wasn’t sitting at his desk, but in an armchair close to the fireplace. He remained silent when she sat in the chair across from him. When she looked at him, she suddenly realized, incredulously, that he was more nervous than she was!
She’d never seen him like this, ever. When had this bulwark in her life ever been apprehensive about anything?
His hands were tightly gripped in his lap. She didn’t think he was aware of it. Nor would he meet her gaze; his dark blue eyes were riveted on the carpet. Such tension was in his posture and in his face! She could see that he was gritting his teeth. He was probably trying to appear deep in thought, but she wasn’t fooled.
Loving him as she did, she put aside her own fears and tried to ease his by beginning with the least of her concerns. “There is a young man I like who might soon come to ask your permission to court me. This would negate my need to have this come-out that Annette has been preparing me for. I’ve been at my wit’s end trying to resolve this in my mind, but—”
She stopped abruptly. His eyes were on her now, and narrowed, but not for the reason she thought. “Who has dared to approach you without my permission, before you’ve even come of age?”
“It’s perfectly innocent,” she quickly assured him. “We’ve just run into each other so often outside the orphanage that we’ve become friends—curbside friends, you might say. But he mentioned recently that he’s finally reached an age to start thinking about marriage, and I had a feeling, well, it was more a hope, that he was thinking of me when he said it.”
Poppie sighed. “Then your feelings are involved?”
“Not yet,” she admitted. “I like him, certainly, but the reason I would favor him is he’s an English lord, yet he doesn’t mind that I want to continue teaching. He even admires my dedication in doing so. And I do want to continue teaching, Poppie.”
There, she’d said it. She held her breath, waiting for his reaction. But all he did was sigh again before he said, “You could have done so.”
