It is very strange. He seems to have abandoned the game.
– Lily to Fanny
It surprised Lily when she saw nothing of Heath the following day. He had called on her so regularly that she expected him to continue the same pattern. Yet she didn’t hear a word from him on Wednesday, not even a note.
She heard nothing from him on Thursday, either, and was greatly puzzled to learn that he had invited Fleur and Chantel to share his box at the theater that evening without even mentioning the invitation to her.
Lord Poole was to accompany them, Lily discovered. Since the night of the soiree, the viscount had practically lived at the boardinghouse, and was obviously enamored of Chantel-a development that delighted the aging beauty and warmed Lily’s heart.
Having declined Heath’s invitation to the theater once before, Lily could hardly object to being excluded this time, but when he arrived to collect the courtesans, he said barely a word to her.
Fleur and Chantel didn’t seem to notice, they were so excited about the treat Lord Claybourne was offering them. They bustled about the entrance hall, laughing and chattering gaily as they collected wraps and fans.
When they had gone-after telling Lily not to wait up since they were to dine at a fashionable hotel after the play-the echo of their gaiety made the house seem rather quiet.
Her spirits sinking as a consequence, Lily wandered into the drawing room in search of something to read. She felt at loose ends now that the soiree was over, since her time was much less occupied. Oh, she was still teaching lessons to several of her pupils at their request, but the urgency was gone for most of the girls, at least those who had secured new protectors.
Seeing a copy of the daily newspaper, The Morning Post, lying on a table, Lily began skimming the pages. Fleur and Chantel subscribed to both the morning and evening papers, since they liked to pore over the society and fashion sections. Normally the items about books, Parliamentary proceedings, foreign news, and shipping reports interested Lily, but just now they failed to hold her attention.
Instead, she kept wondering if Heath had abandoned his courtship of her. Perhaps he considered their game not worth finishing, given that she’d made her position about marrying him so clear.
Strangely, the possibility disappointed her rather than relieving her. She should be very happy to be rid of him.
Her regret was only temporary, Lily told herself. Heath’s absence would create something of a void in her life at the moment, since he’d been underfoot so much of late. But she would adjust. She couldn’t deny, however, that she had missed his presence over the past two days. Missed him teasing her and provoking her and arousing her-
Determinedly Lily cut off that train of thought. There was no point in dwelling on Heath’s plans for their courtship. Even so, she couldn’t help but wonder if their night of passion together had opened his eyes to her deficiencies. She knew very well, from Fanny and other sources, that a man’s carnal needs required fulfilling. And she was likely too inexperienced, too unskilled, too virginal, to satisfy a renowned lover like Heath.
Indeed, it was surprising that he had abstained for as long as he had.
Lily felt herself scowl as she remembered his terse declaration that he could find a mistress on his own, without her help. Perhaps he would do so now if he’d decided she wasn’t worth pursuing any longer.
The notion of him making love to a new mistress made Lily’s stomach churn and lowered her spirits even further.
Chiding herself for being a fool, she set down the newspaper and rose, deciding to go up to her bedchamber to fetch the book Heath had brought her about travels in the South Seas. She had read it through once but had had little time to study it in depth, and the narrative was indeed fascinating, just as he’d promised.
However, as she mounted the front staircase and reached the second floor landing, Lily heard the unmistakable sound of sobbing coming from down the corridor on her right. Turning that way, she followed the sounds to an open door.
It was the bedchamber that Peg Wallace shared with two other lodgers. To her surprise, she found Peg sitting on one of the beds, her arm around a weeping young woman-one of the boarders who hadn’t found a patron at the soiree, Betty Dunst.
Betty was crying inconsolably, low racking sobs that seemed to be dredged up from the bottom of her soul.
When Lily entered tentatively, Peg looked up, her eyes bleak with sadness. “We are sorry to disturb you, Miss Loring. I meant to shut the door.”
“Is Betty injured?” Lily asked quietly, approaching the bed.
Peg gave a savage grimace, while Betty wailed harder and buried her face in her hands. “You might say so,” Peg replied. “She is with child.”
Lily hesitated, not having any experience in such matters. “Is there any way I may help?”
Grimly Peg shook her head. “I doubt so, Miss Loring. You are too fine a lady. But you are kind to offer,” Peg added quickly.
Sitting beside Betty, Lily placed a gentle hand on the girl’s shoulder. “At least tell me what is upsetting you so terribly.”
Nodding shakily, Betty drew several deep breaths in an effort to control her weeping and wiped at her streaming eyes with the handkerchief she held clutched in her hand. “It is just…that I…don’t know what to do. I can’t keep the child. What will become of me if I try? When my belly swells too big…I cannot work.”
Betty, Lily knew, was employed at a nearby gentleman’s club that was little more than a high-class brothel, and had worked there for two years. Betty was the daughter of the head gardener on a large estate in Dorsetshire. When she’d let herself be seduced by a groom at the estate, her father had cast her out of his house, so she came to London. She’d nearly starved before finding a position selling her body in a pleasure house. It was that or perish.
“And the father?” Lily asked. “Could he help?”
Betty gave another hoarse sob. “I don’t know who the father is. It could be any one of a dozen coves. And none of them would care a fig about a bastard whelp.”
Lily bit her tongue, realizing how naive her question had been. And she was at a loss for something further to say.
Betty went on tearfully lamenting her plight. “I’ll have no blunt to pay for my board, and no income for months, and Miss Delee will throw me out on the streets, and I will have nowhere to go-”
“She will do no such thing, Betty,” Lily murmured.
“But even if she allows me to stay, what will I do with a baby? How can I care for it?”
When her voice broke again, Peg interrupted softly. “Betty knows she will have to visit a midwife soon. That is why she is crying.”
Comprehending what Peg meant, Lily felt her stomach clench. “You want to have the baby, Betty?”
“Yes…even if I don’t know who the father is. But I don’t see how. I can’t go back to the streets. I can’t put an innocent child through that. I don’t want my baby to know what it is like to be so hungry, your stomach feels as if it is caving in. To be so desperate you want to die. I cannot do that, Miss Loring. I would rather kill it now.”
When Betty began weeping into her hands again, Lily stroked her back gently, trying to offer comfort. Her heart ached for the girl, and she knew she couldn’t allow Betty’s misery to continue.
“Betty…you must stop crying before you make yourself ill. Listen to me. We will find a solution somehow. I have friends whom I can persuade to help you. We will find someone to take you in so that you may have the baby and not worry about his future.”
Betty’s sobs arresting suddenly, she looked up, her expression half fearful, half hopeful. “Oh, Miss Loring…do you think you could?”
“I am certain of it,” Lily said convincingly. “If nothing else, I will supply the funds myself for you to raise your child.”
“Oh, Miss Loring,” she breathed. “You are an angel. No one is so good as you. But I could never ask you to pay my way. I can work-I am happy to work for my living.”
Lily searched the girl’s blotched, earnest face, recognizing the sentiment: Betty wanted independence, not charity. Just as the Loring sisters had always wanted.
“Then I think we must find you gainful employment,” Lily said. “What sort of work are you best suited for?”
“I am good with flowers…growing them, I mean. I was used to acting as my da’s assistant from the time I could walk.”
“Well, I will see what I can do. For now, why don’t you wash your face and lie down? Weeping cannot be good for the baby.”
“I know.” Her tears had quieted by now, and Betty sniffed as she wiped her eyes with the handkerchief. “But I cannot lie down, Miss Loring. I am supposed to report to work in a short while. The madam will turn me off for cert if I am late, and then I will be in a worse fix than I am now.”
Frowning, Lily shook her head. “You cannot continue to work there when you are with child. No, Betty, you are not to return to your club. Tomorrow you can give notice, but just rest now and don’t worry about the future. I will let you know as soon as I think of something.”
Fresh tears sprang to Betty’s eyes as she looked at Lily almost reverently. “Thank you, Miss Loring. I cannot thank you enough-”
“You needn’t thank me, my dear. It is no more help than a very kind lady once offered my sisters and me,” Lily said, thinking of Winifred and how, because of her generosity in funding the Freemantle Academy for Young Ladies, they had been able to have lives far different from the one poor Betty had endured. “I am only trying to extend her kindness.”
Patting Betty’s shoulder comfortingly, Lily rose and started to turn toward the door. But then Peg’s quiet voice stopped her. “Miss Loring?”
“Yes?”
Lily waited while Peg slowly stood up. She seemed hesitant, her gaze lowered as she plucked at her skirt. Finally she swallowed. “Miss Loring…do you think it would be possible…” She cleared her throat. “That is, would your friends…be willing to find respectable employment for me, perhaps?”
Lily regarded Peg with a quizzical look. Her tale was somewhat similar to Betty’s in that both girls had found themselves on the streets, forced to fend for themselves. Except that Peg had worked in a noble household in London as a lady’s maid. When her lordly master had cornered her in a drunken stupor and kissed her against her will, his lady-wife had caught them together and dismissed Peg without a character. Unable to find respectable work without proper references, Peg had found employment as a ballet dancer with the Royal Opera, although she’d been hired for her exquisite beauty rather than her meager dance skills.
Peg’s request was puzzling, however, since she had just garnered a very wealthy baronet as a protector.
“I thought you were pleased with the arrangement you made with Sir Robert,” Lily said slowly.
“I am pleased, Miss Loring. I mean…Sir Robert is a better patron than I ever hoped for. But I…I don’t really want to be his mistress. Truth to tell, I hate it,” she said in a low ardent voice. “I was a good girl before I became a demirep. And when I must sin that way…Sometimes I want to die, too.”
Lily felt herself flinch as a sharp knife of guilt stabbed her. She had thought Peg was merely painfully shy, not that she was so dreadfully unhappy.
“I never realized, Peg,” Lily murmured, feeling a little sick inside. “I am sorry I encouraged you to join our lessons, or helped prepare you for the soiree. I thought it was what you wanted.”
“Oh, no, Miss Loring…that wasn’t my meaning! I don’t want you to think I didn’t appreciate your lessons. I did. If I must earn my living on my back, it is far better to serve a rich gentleman. No, you were wondrous, teaching us all how to better ourselves. But if I could quit this life, I would, and gladly. And if you could help me…I would be ever so grateful.”
Lily couldn’t speak for a moment; her throat had closed with the threat of tears when she considered the plight of these poor women. Their lives were a constant struggle; they had no family, no future, with little hope of happiness or joy. But she could change that.
“Of course I will help you, Peg,” Lily declared, her voice thick with emotion. “There is no question that I will do everything in my power for you.”
Peg’s lips quivered in a tremulous smile. “I have learned one useful skill recently, at least. I’ve become very clever with a needle, sewing costumes for my fellow dancers. I could perhaps work in a modiste’s shop as an apprentice…or as a dresser’s assistant.”
“Yes, Miss Loring,” Betty broke in earnestly, despite her own troubles. “Peg has a splendid eye for fashion. Why, she could create her own designs if she had the chance. You should see her sketches. They put La Belle Ensemble to shame.”
“I didn’t realize,” Lily said, impressed.
Peg blushed. “Well, I have no real training, but I designed a morning gown for Miss Delee last season, which she professed to be very pleased with.”
“I will arrange something, I promise you.”
It was a promise she would do her utmost to keep, Lily vowed moments later as she climbed the stairs to her own bedchamber, where she sat and stewed about what to do for Betty and Peg.
An even greater tragedy, Lily reflected with anger and dismay, was that there were countless other young women just like them who faced similar bleak futures. Girls who found themselves destitute and defenseless, with no one to turn to and no friends or family to depend on.
In the long term, Lily resolved, she would set her mind to determining how she could help some of those poor unfortunates find shelter and support. Somewhere they could be safe, where they could learn a trade so they wouldn’t have to turn to prostitution merely to survive.
But that could wait, Lily knew; her friends needed help now.
She was confident she could find suitable employment for Peg, but with a child on the way, Betty was a much more serious problem.
She would have liked to talk the situation over with Fleur and Chantel-now, at once. The sooner she could find positions for the girls, the sooner they could begin their new lives and leave the ones they hated.
But the elderly courtesans were still attending the play with Lord Claybourne and Lord Poole. And Basil was out with his chums and fellow law clerks at his favorite tavern. After the success of the soiree, Basil had been eager to return to his former life, since his tutelage was no longer required by their pupils.
Asking Winifred to help Betty, however, would likely be futile, Lily suspected. Ordinarily the wealthy widow sympathized with the working class, since she came from the same origins. Winifred could usually be counted on to be magnanimous with the vast fortune her late industrialist father had amassed from his manufacturing and mining enterprises. But in this instance, Lily surmised, Winifred would just tell her to apply to Lord Claybourne.
She could perhaps ask Marcus for assistance, since he was now her brother by marriage as well as her former guardian. But Marcus had done more than enough for her by taking in the two boarders she’d already sent to Danvers Hall last month.
“You know what you must do,” Lily murmured to herself.
She worried her lower lip as she came to a reluctant conclusion: Even though she disliked asking Heath for help because she didn’t want to be indebted to him, he was her most logical choice. She shouldn’t let her aversion to being dependent on a man stand in the way of doing what was best for Betty.
As a wealthy nobleman, Heath had significant resources she didn’t have, including several estates and a vast servant staff. Moreover, he had voluntarily found a home for a stray dog. He might be willing to do the same for a deserving young woman and her unborn child.
And as her sister Arabella had recently pointed out, Lily reflected, Heath didn’t seem to be the typical selfish, uncaring nobleman-although in her case, his generosity toward her had doubtless had a purpose, trying to earn points to win their game.
Deciding she ought to approach Heath first, Lily put her mind to developing the argument she would present to him in order to persuade him.
Three hours later, nearing the time when she could reasonably expect his carriage to return from the theater, she went downstairs and took up a position in the entrance hall on a footman’s bench, passing the interval reading Travels by the light of a wall sconce.
As soon as she heard the sound of carriage wheels out on the street, Lily threw a shawl around her shoulders and went to the front door.
It was indeed Lord Claybourne bringing his party home, she saw upon stepping outside. Night had fallen, but the carriage lamps illuminated his tall, powerful figure as he stood on the curb, saying farewell to his guests.
In the event he didn’t plan to accompany them inside, Lily descended the steps and moved down the sidewalk toward the street.
Lord Poole noticed her first. “Ah, Miss Loring, I did not expect to see you again this evening. The play was splendid, just splendid. You should have come.”
Chantel had explained to her new beau that Lily didn’t want to attract notice by going out in public, but the elderly viscount was a bit absentminded, so he tended to forget.
Lily murmured something polite in response to Lord Poole’s comments, but her attention was on Heath, whose eyebrow was arched in question as he asked, “Is something amiss, Miss Loring?”
“I wondered if I might I have a word with you in private, my lord.”
After a moment’s hesitation, he nodded. “Of course. Shall I accompany you inside the house, or would you prefer to use my carriage?”
Glancing at his carriage, Lily flushed as she remembered what had happened the last time she was alone with him there. “The house, please.”
They had followed the Cyprians and Lord Poole inside when Fleur stated, “We will be in our sitting room when you are finished, my dear.”
Nodding, Lily led Heath to the nearby parlor.
“May I offer you some wine or port?” she asked as soon as he shut the door behind them.
His penetrating gaze surveyed her. “Why so formal, angel?”
“I suppose because I am nervous.”
“You? Nervous?”
“Well,” Lily replied, ignoring the hint of amusement in his tone, “the stakes are rather high. You see…I have a very large favor to ask of you.”
Heath regarded Lily another moment before repeating slowly, as if in disbelief, “You wish to ask me a favor.”
“Yes, although it isn’t for myself.”
The corner of his mouth curved dryly. “It never is.”
“Would you care to have a seat?”
“I prefer to stand. Why don’t you just come out with it, Lily? What favor do you need?”
Deciding it would be easier to explain if she was seated, Lily moved over to a wing chair and perched on the edge. “The thing is…one of our boarders is facing a difficult dilemma. Do you remember Betty Dunst?”
“Petite, dark hair, blue eyes?”
Lily wasn’t surprised that as a connoisseur of women, Heath recalled the pretty lightskirt. “Yes, that is Betty. Unfortunately she is expecting a child.”
When Lily briefly told him about Betty’s circumstances, she grew angry all over again at the injustice of it all-a young woman being thrown onto the streets and forced to work in a brothel, and then being gotten with child by one of her many customers.
“It is hardly her fault that she is enceinte,” Lily said in a tight voice. “But now that she is, she wants to have the baby-although only if she can provide him a decent future.”
Thankfully, Heath seemed to take her request very seriously. “Does Betty want a marriage arranged for her, so the child won’t be born out of wedlock?” he asked. “Securing a husband for her would be the customary course.”
The question made Lily hesitate, since she hadn’t even considered that option. “I don’t know, actually. But I don’t believe she wants to marry-and she should not be forced to wed if she doesn’t choose to,” she added adamantly. “Being trapped in an unwanted marriage could be nearly as bad as her current situation, possibly even worse.”
Her fierceness brought a faint smile to Heath’s lips. “I am well aware of your feelings on the subject of matrimony, sweeting. But Betty may hold a different opinion from yours.”
“She told me she wants to work for her living. Her father was a chief gardener on a large estate, and she claims to be good at growing things. I was thinking that you might find a place for her on one of your estates, where she might raise her child in safety. A baby would fare better in the country than in London.”
To her relief, Heath nodded. “The housekeeper at my family seat may be amenable to taking her in, but I want to speak to Betty first, to ascertain her true wishes.”
“Thank you!” Lily said, rising to her feet. “I will fetch Betty at once-”
Heath held up a hand. “There is no need to interview her this late at night. But you needn’t worry. I will take care of the matter.” He cocked his head at Lily. “You realize this will likely earn me another point in our game?”
“I expect so, but it is worth the price if Betty can be free of a life she despises.”
“Very well, then,” he murmured. “If that is all you require of me…?”
Heath glanced over his shoulder toward the door, as if impatient to leave, but Lily found herself wanting him to stay. She hadn’t planned on mentioning Peg’s troubles to him, yet she found herself blurting out a request for him to wait.
“There is one more thing,” Lily said, taking a step toward him.
He regarded her expectantly. “Yes?”
“It concerns one of our other boarders…but the matter is somewhat indelicate.”
When Heath merely waited politely for her to explain, Lily rushed on. “You said you have had several mistresses in the past, so I hoped you might know the modistes they frequented.”
“I beg your pardon?” His eyebrow had shot up, and he was looking at her as if he had misheard.
She felt color rise to her cheeks. “Well, you see…Peg Wallace is dreadfully unhappy having to work as a courtesan. And even though her new patron could improve her circumstances significantly, she wants out of that life. So I promised I would try to find her employment as a modiste’s apprentice. And I thought that if you had spent a fortune on clothing for your former mistresses, you might have some sway with their modistes, and you could persuade one of them to consider Peg for a position.”
When Heath remained silent, simply gazing at her, Lily added hastily, “I cannot ask Marcus about his former mistresses now that he is married to my sister.”
“But you can ask me? Should I be honored?”
Lily flashed him a reluctant smile. “I don’t think so. I just would rather spare Arabella the discomfort of bringing up her new husband’s rakish past. And you are the only other gentleman with experience in such matters whom I know well enough to approach with such an improper request.”
His mouth twitching, he shook his head slowly in disbelief. “You never cease to amaze me, darling Lily.”
At his response, Lily began to feel uncomfortably awkward. “Well then, please forget I mentioned it. I can doubtless find a position for Peg on my own… Although the modiste who fashioned new wardrobes for me and my sisters this summer is a high stickler and would be unlikely to hire a former courtesan. I can ask Fanny’s dressmaker, but she caters mainly to the demireps of the theater and opera, and I would rather give Peg a chance to break with her old life, if possible-”
“I will see what I can do,” Heath broke in.
Lily stopped to eye him warily. “You will consider helping Peg?”
“Yes, I will help Peg if I can. But I pay little attention to such things as modistes. I will speak to Eleanor Pierce, though. She should know the best course to take.”
Lily frowned. She had greatly enjoyed meeting Marcus’s younger sister at Arabella’s wedding last month. Lively and beautiful, Lady Eleanor was a significant heiress who dressed in the height of fashion. But she was also a single gentlewoman with a reputation to protect.
“Lady Eleanor?” Lily said skeptically. “She might not care to become involved with the fortunes of a lightskirt.”
“She won’t mind,” Heath assured her. “Nell is no shrinking violet. I will ask her tomorrow morning when I see her.”
“You will be calling on her tomorrow?” Lily asked, highly curious about his relationship with Lady Eleanor.
“Yes. We are riding in the park together. I escort her on her daily rides with some regularity, particularly now that Marcus is spending so much of his time at Danvers Hall. She is an avid horsewoman, although perhaps not quite as zealous as you.”
Lily found herself wishing that she could join them-but of course she could do no such thing if she wanted to keep her encounters with Heath to a minimum. Her inability to ride was no doubt the cause of the twinge of jealousy that rippled through her. She didn’t care that Heath seemed to be on excellent terms with Marcus’s sister. Nor did she care what he did in his free time when he wasn’t here courting her.
Her only concern was what he could do for her courtesan friends-which reminded Lily of the subject at hand.
“I would be grateful if you would ask Lady Eleanor then,” she told Heath, “although I hope it won’t be too much of an imposition on her.”
“It won’t be. She is sure to admire your desire to help Peg. I will let you know what she says about a modiste. So is there anything else I may do for you?”
Lily blinked, realizing he was eager to be gone. “No, but please let me thank you-”
“I don’t want your thanks, Lily,” Heath said, his expression enigmatic.
Then, with a brief bow, he turned away and exited the parlor, leaving Lily staring after him, torn between gratitude for his generosity and regret that he hadn’t wanted to remain in her company even a moment longer.
“Most certainly I will help,” Lady Eleanor said as soon as Heath explained what he wanted. “And I have just the modiste in mind. The same one who created this riding costume for me.”
He glanced critically at Eleanor, who rode beside him along the Row in Hyde Park. She was garbed in a stylish emerald green habit and jaunty military hat that set off her short raven curls and rosy complexion to perfection. “You look quite fetching,” he said approvingly.
Marcus’s irrepressible younger sister dimpled. “Thank you for the pretty compliment, but Madame Gautier deserves the credit. Not only can she work wonders with her needle, she has a marvelous sense of fashion. And as it happens, she was remarking just last week how she despaired of finding skilled seamstresses. Madame will be in raptures if this Peg has an aptitude for designing as well as fine stitching. I will arrange an interview and notify you about the particulars.”
Heath smiled his appreciation. “I knew I could count on you, love.”
Eleanor shook her head. “My contribution will be of small moment compared to Miss Loring’s efforts. I think her compassion for those women is exceedingly admirable. I didn’t realize she was so involved in philanthropy, however, although I knew her friend, Miss Blanchard, advocates for several charities.”
Heath had to admire Lily’s compassion as well. This was just the latest instance of her championing the helpless and the downtrodden, he reflected, remembering how her eyes had sparked when she spoke of the young women she had befriended.
“Lily says the same thing about Miss Blanchard,” Heath commented.
“Perhaps I will ask Miss Blanchard how I might aid her charities,” Eleanor said thoughtfully, before she sent Heath a curious glance. “So does this mean your courtship of Miss Loring is prospering?”
Heath shrugged. “Well enough.”
“Well enough?” The raven-haired beauty flashed a mock scowl. “Is that all you mean to tell me? You are too cruel, Heath! I am dying to know if I may soon wish you happy.”
He couldn’t help but chuckle at her teasing. A lively minx, Eleanor was like the sister he had never had. He’d known her since she was born, and she had managed to wrap him around her finger from the time she was a toddler.
In some ways she reminded him greatly of Lily, for they shared many of the same qualities; both young ladies were charming and endearing, forthright, independent, and generous in nature. At twenty, Eleanor was actually a year younger than Lily, but she had far more experience with the courting game, having been on the Marriage Mart for two Seasons. And since her comeout, Nell had been betrothed twice. Both times she’d broken off the engagement, much to the dismay of her aunt, Lady Beldon.
“As soon as I have anything of consequence about my courtship to report,” Heath offered, “you will be among the first to know.”
“That doesn’t sound very promising. Are you certain you don’t need my help in wooing Miss Loring? I was able to advise Drew on how to romance Roslyn.”
“For someone who has jilted two suitors, Nell, you make a odd matchmaker.”
Eleanor smiled impishly. “Indeed. But merely because I have resolved to remain single, doesn’t mean I cannot aid the course of true love.”
“Ah, yes. You are a hopeless romantic.”
“So I am. Which is precisely why I ended my betrothals-because neither of my fiances could love me the way I wished to be loved. But miraculously, Marcus and Drew found love, so I still hold out hope for myself, and for you as well.”
Heath had no ready reply for her. He’d never lost his heart, but the notion that Lily could inspire that particular malady had a definite appeal. If anyone could tempt him to fall in love, it would be Lily. He wondered if he could tempt her to love him in return…
“Perhaps,” he drawled in response to Nell’s observation, “you should concentrate on your own affairs of the heart and not worry so much about mine.”
Eleanor made a face at him. “I expected you to say that. But I still am rather stunned that you are considering donning marriage shackles.”
He was a little stunned as well, Heath reflected. He’d never wanted to be tied down to just one woman. Until recently he had been a dedicated bachelor, devoted to a life of freedom and adventure, resolutely determined never to be locked in a tedious, insipid, passionless union merely for the sake of carrying on his illustrious title. But since his courtship of Lily, he had come to the realization that he could be content with the chains of matrimony if she were his jailor.
“But I can comprehend,” Eleanor continued, overriding his thoughts, “why you would be attracted to Miss Loring. And from what I know of her, I think she might make an ideal match for you. The two of you seem highly compatible.”
That was certainly true, Heath agreed. He’d never expected to find a wife who could be such a perfect match for him, as Lily would.
His own parents had been poorly matched, nearly opposites in character and outlooks on life. His mother had been gay and charming and full of laughter; his father staid and proper and dull to the point of grimness. A grimness that only compounded after Lady Claybourne’s death as the marquess retreated further into himself.
As a child, Heath had cherished his mother’s joie de vivre, although admittedly she had been concerned with her own pleasure above all else. Unlike Lily, who was concerned for everyone but herself.
Whether or not he could have a love match with Lily, however, he wanted her for his wife. Not just to bear him heirs, as he’d first planned. Not merely to alleviate his boredom or to grace his bed, either, although those were excellent reasons to wed her.
No, he wanted Lily for herself. Her liveliness, her intensity, her passion for life called to him. As did her fierceness, since it was tempered by warmth and softness and compassion. Lily stirred him like no other woman ever had.
Yet it would be unwise, he warned himself, to let his feelings for her grow any stronger when she had closed off her heart to any possibility of love. For the first time in his life he had met a woman whose defenses might be insurmountable.
Which frustrated the devil out of him, since he wanted his union with Lily to be much more than the cold marriage of convenience his parents had known.
He wanted more from his courtship of Lily, as well. He wanted to be able to venture out in public together, to ride with her in the park as he did with Eleanor, to attend plays and garden parties and enjoy all the other small intimacies that normal suitors were permitted. Most of all, he wanted to claim Lily for his own.
Yet that moment seemed a long way off.
Hell, perhaps his decision to stop overtly wooing Lily was a mistake. He had visibly slowed his pursuit of her to allow time for her feelings toward him to soften, reasoning that he could lower her resistance if she felt less pressured by his courtship. But his strategy might be having no effect at all.
Shaking off his frustration, Heath returned his attention to his charming companion. As close as he was to Eleanor, however, he didn’t want to discuss his relationship with Lily any longer.
“You stun me also, Nell,” he said to change the subject. “Since when would you rather amble along at this snail’s pace, chattering about matrimony instead of enjoying a good gallop?”
“You make an excellent point,” Eleanor replied, gathering her reins.
“Shall we race to the end of the lake?” he challenged.
“You are on!” Eleanor exclaimed, digging her heel into her horse’s side, leaving an amused Heath to eat her dust and make yet another comparison with his spirited Lily.
He called on Lily that afternoon to report on Eleanor’s progress: A meeting had been arranged for Peg with Madame Gautier the following morning. When summoned to the parlor to hear the news, Peg was overjoyed at the prospect of finding respectable employment at the modiste’s shop, and she thanked Heath profusely.
Betty’s response, however, was altogether different at first. The girl appeared nervous and intimidated when Heath questioned her about her wishes for her future, stammering out her replies. Yes, milord, a husband might be welcome at some point, and yes, she would be very happy to return to the country. But for now she only wanted safety for herself and the chance to bear her baby without fear of finding herself on the streets again. When Heath offered her sanctuary at his family estate under the aegis of his housekeeper, Betty stared at him for a long moment and then burst into tears.
Lily immediately wrapped her arm around the girl in an effort to ease her distress, but startlingly, Betty eschewed the proffered comfort and got down on her knees to Heath instead.
“Oh, milord!” she sobbed, taking his hand to kiss it fervently. “You are a saint, just like Miss Loring. You won’t regret taking me in, I swear it. And I will repay you somehow, every penny.”
Disconcerted by her abject display of gratitude, Heath gently drew the girl to her feet, assuring her that he didn’t want recompense, that serving his housekeeper well would be payment enough.
When Betty could at last be pried away from him and had left the parlor, still sniffling with joy, Lily stood there gazing at him, her expression soft.
“I cannot thank you enough, Heath,” she murmured in a voice rife with gratitude.
Heath stilled as he became lost in those melting dark eyes of hers. Struggling against the urge to take Lily in his arms, he merely shrugged. “Don’t refine on it.”
“Of course I will refine on it. You may possibly have saved her life, and you undoubtedly saved her baby’s life.” Lily hesitated. “Such generosity is rare, especially coming from a nobleman.”
His mouth twisted at her unconscious disparagement of his class. “You may make a philanthropist out of me yet,” he said lightly.
Lily cocked her head as she studied him thoughtfully. “I imagine that would be a very good thing. Just think, Heath, you could put your enormous wealth to noble purpose. There are so many people who could benefit…not to mention the immense satisfaction of doing a kindness for others.”
It was even more satisfying to win her regard, Heath reflected. When Lily looked at him that way, he was willing to give away his entire fortune.
Heath shook his head mentally at the image of him doling out alms to the poor and oppressed, yet the thought of sharing Lily’s cause held surprising appeal. She had accused him of wanting to play hero, and it was true; he wanted to be a hero in her eyes. And he wanted the right to slay her dragons.
“Will you stay for tea?” she asked in that same soft voice.
He hadn’t meant to remain, but he found himself agreeing. And as Lily led the way upstairs to Fleur’s sitting room, her words about putting his wealth to noble purpose echoed in his mind.
The possibility hadn’t seriously occurred to him before now. No doubt because he’d been wrapped up in his own pursuits.
Perhaps, however, it was time to take stock of his life. Seeing Lily’s concern for the less fortunate, Heath couldn’t help but question his own goals and desires.
He had been born to vast privilege and wealth, receiving too much, too easily, with too few responsibilities to keep him grounded. His doting mother had spoiled him as a child, and like her, he’d been more concerned with his own selfish gratification.
And after losing his mother when he was ten, he’d taken refuge from his anguish in anger, rebelling against his father’s dictates at every opportunity, sometimes on sheer principle, recklessly pushing the boundaries of civilized behavior to the point of physical danger.
But even as he grew older, he hadn’t used his talents or resources very wisely. He’d treated life as a game, with the quest for pleasure and excitement his primary aim. He’d been adamant that he wouldn’t become like his sire, mired in a grim, joyless, passionless existence.
But Heath could see now that he’d gone overboard trying to repudiate his father’s influence. And he realized he ought to make more of his life.
Indeed, Lily was the first thing he’d ever had to work for, to strive to win-and the challenge had opened his eyes. Thanks to her inspiration, he wanted to contribute something productive to society, to a cause greater than himself. She made him want to do better, to be better, to prove himself worthy of her.
Perhaps when he returned home, he would pen a message to Tess Blanchard and ask how he could aid her charities-
Heath’s ruminations were interrupted just then when they reached the sitting room. Surprisingly, Fanny was there with Fleur and Chantel. The women had been speaking in low tones, but all conversation stopped when Heath entered behind Lily.
And when Fanny turned her face toward them, Lily went rigid with shock.
The Cyprian’s lower lip was split and bloody, Heath saw, while bruises in the shape of fingerprints disfigured the creamy skin covering her jaw.
“Good God, Fanny-whatever happened?” Lily exclaimed in tones of anger and dismay.
Obviously embarrassed, Fanny ducked her head. “It is nothing, Lily, truly.”
“What do you mean, nothing? Someone struck you!”
“It wasn’t like that… Mick just didn’t realize his own strength.”
Lily took a step forward, her fists curled in rage, and Heath knew she was moments away from exploding.