It was… well, it was none of his business, that’s what. She might wear a flour sack if she liked. It was no concern of his. Still, given her aversion to attracting attention, it was astonishing that she’d even come to London at all.
He wouldn’t have, if he’d been in her place.
“Tell me, Miss Templeton, what possessed you to come to London for the season? Why not remain in…Oxfordshire?”
Or wherever it was she’d come from.
“Kent, my lord.”
“Yes, very well. Kent, then. My aunt gave me to understand that you don’t care much for London.”
“No, not much.”
Well, then. That was as good an opening as he was likely to find. “It’s fortunate we’ve find ourselves here this afternoon, Miss Templeton. I wish to have a private word with you.”
“Aprivateword?”
“Yes, if you’d be so good.”
“I can’t think of a single thing you need to say to me that requires privacy, my lord.”
“No? How unimaginative of you. I think we have quite a lot to discuss, after Harriett’s catastrophic first season. You do remember her first season, do you not, Miss Templeton?”
She glanced down at her hands. “I’m not likely to soon forget it, my lord.”
“I should hope not. But it’s done now, and there’s nothing to be gained by dwelling on that unpleasant business. My question for you, Miss Templeton, is this: Why have you come to London?”
She blinked. “I… forgive me, Lord Fairmont, but I don’t understand.”
“No? How curious. It’s a simple question. What,” he repeated, enunciating clearly, as he would do if he were speaking to an exceptionally dull child, “possessed you to come to London? Do you intend to marry this season?”
“Marry! Are you making fun of me, Lord Fairmont?”
Making fun? What did she mean, and why was she glowering at him as if she’d happily drown him in his aunt’s fountain? “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Miss Templeton.”
“I imagine there are few things more amusing to a fashionable gentleman like yourself, Lord Fairmont, than a confirmed spinster coming to London in search of a spouse.”
“How absurd. You can’t be more than nineteen or twenty at the most. Hardly a spinster.”
She was a meddlesome, interfering sort of lady, but he hadn’t encountered many spinsters with as agreeable a face as hers, and that was to say nothing of the firm body he’d held against his when he’d rescued her in the Ring.
She’d fit nicely into his arms, her slender curves softening his sharp angles, so much so he’d?—
Ahem. There was no sense in dwelling on that because it would never happen.
“I’m twenty-four, my lord, and I’m in London because your aunt and sister requested my presence here. I thought you knew that already.”
“I’m aware of it, yes. What I fail to understand, Miss Templeton is why, after the utter mess you made of Harriett’s first season, you didn’t refuse the invitation. Under thecircumstances, I’d think you’d have the decency to keep your distance. Indeed, I can’t account for your presence here at all.”
Her jaw dropped open. “You mean to say you’re blamingmefor that dreadful business with Lord Wyle?”
“Not entirely, no, but you were Harriett’s matchmaker, were you not? That’s what Harriett keeps telling me, at any rate. Surely, the matchmaker is at least somewhat responsible when the match goes awry?”
“You say the word “matchmaker” as if you’re uttering a curse, my lord.”
“Forgive me. I don’t know much about your… how would you refer to it, Miss Templeton? Theartof matchmaking? Or is it more of a business? My aunt certainly seems to be clamoring for your services. I daresay matchmaking can be quite lucrative.”
She went still beside him. “Are you accusing me ofcheatingyour aunt in some way, Lord Fairmont?”
