The maid appeared at the door and held out a calling card. “You have a visitor, Miss Emily.”
“Now who might this be?” Aunt Emily said crossly. “I want to talk you out of this silly…” She read the card and looked up. “Just the man I wish to see. Send him in, Sarah.”
Guy entered the room, tall and imposing, a silver-topped cane tucked beneath his arm as he removed gray gloves. He was dressed immaculately in fitted buff trousers, a dark blue superfine coat and spotless linen, a gold fob looped over his embroidered silk waistcoat.
Hetty’s heart fluttered. He looked elegant, poised, and heart-wrenchingly handsome. Aunt Emily thought so, too. She curtsied and bid him welcome in a breathy voice.
“Delighted, Miss Cavendish.” Guy bowed. “Your niece has told me of your celebrated literarysoirees. I have looked forward to meeting you and hope to be invited to attend when next you have one.”
Hetty stood, clenched her hands, and waited for her aunt to inform him that the engagement must be at an end.
Guy’s gaze swept Hetty with unveiled appreciation. “You appear to be in excellent health, Miss Cavendish. I trust you had a pleasant and uneventful trip?”
“I did, thank you.” Hetty was struck by how different he seemed. Back in Digswell he was undoubtedly handsome, but here he appeared so much more commanding and like the lord of the realm he was. Her aunt obviously thought so, too. Hetty fell silent, tamping down her impatience to ask him the latest news.
Aunt Emily smiled. “Please do sit, my lord. Would you care for a libation?”.
“Nothing to drink, thank you.” He removed a small box from his pocket. “I wonder if I might be permitted a moment alone with Miss Cavendish?”
Hetty’s gaze flew to her aunt, who was eyeing the jeweler’s box. “Certainly, my lord.” Amazed and relieved, she watched as her aunt gathered up her shawl and glasses and hurried from the room.
She turned to Guy. “Did you find your portmanteau?”
He shook his head.
“Oh. I’m sorry. You’ve been to your solicitor?”
“I just came from Lincoln’s Inn. A codicil is to be added to the will. I plan to see Eustace this afternoon.”
“But without your papers, it has no relevance.”
“It may force his hand.”
“Does that mean you might be in more danger?”
“We shall see. I’m prepared for it, in any case.”
She gazed doubtfully at him as Guy flipped open the satin-lined box.
Hetty dropped her gaze to the diamond ring. A veritable sunburst of light. She gasped. “It’s beautiful.”
Guy reached for her hand.
“I don’t suppose I could accompany you to see Eustace?”
“No, you may not.” Hetty’s hand trembled in his. A frisson of excitement bubbled up inside her when he slipped the ring on her finger. Her attempts to remind herself their engagement was not real didn’t seem to help. “It’s beautiful. It fits so perfectly.”
He nodded, pleased. “Good, then I guessed the size correctly.”
“How clever of you.” She turned her hand to admire the rose-cut diamond set in a cluster of smaller emeralds which was only on loan to her.
“A kiss to seal the arrangement.” Leaning close, Guy framed her face in his big hands. Before she could object, his mouth covered hers and her senses swam.
When he drew away, she was about to rebuke him, but remembered her aunt, lurking, no doubt, somewhere outside the door. He ran a finger over her bottom lip, and she shook her head at him.
He smiled. “Do you like what you’ve seen of London?”
“You hadn’t told me how busy, smoky, noisy, and smelly it is. Someone is always rapping on the door to offer to fix one’s chairs or sharpen one’s knives. And night is only a little better with the town crier tolling the hour and carts and night carriages passing the door.” She smiled. “But I still can’t wait to see more of it.”
