Her heart hammered. Dizziness made his words seem to come from the far end of a long passageway. “Please.” She held her breath. If he said no, her last option would be lost. If he said yes, it would kill her.
“I could try, I suppose.”
She let out her breath and managed a shaky smile. She hoped it obscured the pain of her heart rending in two. So, he held no love for her—otherwise, why agree to help her?
“Thank you. You have my eternal gratitude, Lord Thomas.”
“Yes, well, that’s all I want.”
Her smile fell at the sarcasm buried in his polite words. Was he mocking her? He never mocked her. Tears pricked. His disdain was too much. She dug her fingers into her palms and dropped her gaze, unable to meet his.
“Perhaps you should tell me what you require in a husband,” he said, his voice kind again. “That will make it more likely I can find someone suitable.”
She peeked to find his face as sympathetic as his tone. Encouraged, she returned her hands to her sides, but found they trembled. She snatched them back behind her.
“What I want in a husband?”You!The word resounded inside her head, but she suppressed the admission.
He nodded. “It seems a reasonable question.”
“Yes.” She bit her lip. Aware that he watched, she tried to organize her thoughts. To think of anything to say other than his name.
“Don’t you know?” He sounded almost wistful.
Liza shrugged, for if she couldn’t have him, she truly didn’t know what—who—she wanted. “No one’s ever asked me. Mama insists I need a husband, and she’s bade me dance with quite a few gentlemen, but she’s never asked what I want.”
“Well, I’m asking now,” he said, soundly oddly offended. He gestured to the couch, the one he’d slept on that night. “Shall we sit and you can tell me what’s in your heart?”
She stared. In her heart? Was he toying with her?
“Miss Milton?”
She started at the sound of his voice.
“Shall we sit?” he repeated in that earlier, gentle tone. He indicated the couch.
She nodded and followed him to the couch. She folded her feet under her as she sat, then smoothed her skirt so that it draped her legs. What did she want in a husband? She’d never given it much thought. Every man she’d met, every smile, every dance had been measured against him. How could she describe her perfect man without revealing that she spoke of him?
He regarded her with quiet attentiveness. Finally, she managed, “I should like someone kind, who doesn’t mind if I babble sometimes.”
“I would hardly find you anyone unkind.”
She gave him a startled look, then laughed, suddenly more at ease. He was correct, of course. He would never introduce her to an unkind man. She could hardly believe him acquainted with anyone cruel. “I should like as well if he’s...” As handsome as you. Her face heated. “Well, you know, has a fine countenance.”
“I see.”
Was he laughing at her? Liza narrowed her eyes, but couldn’t read his expression. “Most importantly, though, he must have a library.”
His frown returned. “A library? Not a title, or wealth, but a library?”
“Well, certainly he can’t be too far in debt, or we won’t be able to afford books for the library, but, no, he doesn’t need great wealth or a title.” She leaned against the back of the couch and studied the cherub- and cloud-filled mural above. She worried that if she looked at Lord Thomas, he would know she was picturing him.
“A library is very important to you, then?” he asked.
“Yes, of course. It’s my favorite room. The best room. You should know. You spend all of your time here in Father’s library, and so do I.”
“I don’t have a library,” he said.
She snapped her head down. What did he mean by that?
