He frowned at her. Had she gone too far?
“As I said, I am happy to call and view your orphanage, Miss Lacey,” he said, his voice cool. “When you are free to take me on a tour.”
It would be unwise to let the matter go on too long. He would lose interest. She’d set this in motion and couldn’t believe her good luck. She must not lose her courage now and let a small hiccup like her parents stop her. Rubbing the bare skin above her elbow, cool in the short-sleeved dress, she realized by her shiver she was concerned more with the second part of her plan. To lie in this man’s arms.
“You are cold. Let’s return inside.”
She glanced uneasily through the French windows to where the guests milled about in the drawing room. She’d forgotten all about them. Her conversation with such a man would hardly fail to go unnoticed.
“I appreciate you giving me your valuable time, sir. I shall be pleased to show you Hartnoll House.” She took his proffered arm, and they strolled across the terrace. “I did write to your secretary, but his reply gave me little reason to hope you’d be willing to consider my proposal.”
He smiled. “I get many such proposals, Miss Lacey.”
“I imagine so.” She wondered if he’d seen her letter. Was it ridiculous to hope he’d come tonight because of it?
“What made you write to me? My reputation for philanthropy is not widely known.”
He had her there. “Something I saw in you at our last meeting,” she said, aware of how lame that sounded.
He stopped, raising his brows. “You found that quality in me during our one dance at Lady Byrne’s ball?”
“Your good business sense made you an attractive prospect, sir.”
“Ah. Now I understand.” Dense dark lashes hid his expression. “I’m not used to being assessed in such a cool manner, not by a lady in any event, Miss Lacey.”
She didn’t believe that for a moment. Women would attempt to entice him into their beds, and many would want to marry him.
He offered her his arm again, and they continued to the door. “I shall call for you tomorrow morning.”
“Thank you but unnecessary.” She must find a way to forestall her mother, who always accompanied her. “Shall we meet there at, say, half past eleven?”
“Twelve would be better, Miss Lacey.”
She thought quickly. If her mother had a morning engagement, she’d be gone from the house by then. It gave Bella little time, as she would have to be home by two o’clock for luncheon. “I shall see you at twelve, sir.” She reached into the tiny reticule dangling from her wrist and handed him her card with the address of the orphanage printed in silver lettering and, in case he discovered a prior engagement, gathered up her skirts and hurried inside.
As expected, her father drew her aside, none too pleased. “I was about to fetch you! You spent far too long a time on the terrace with that bounder, Bella! Lord Maudling commented on it.”
Bella tried to hide her glee. Perhaps Maudling would consider her a flirt and decide not to offer for her after all.
“Lord Eaglestone has shown some interest in supporting my charity.”
“That ridiculous charity of yours. You know how distasteful I find it when you immerse yourself in matters beneath your station. Your mother’s illness has allowed you to run rampant. Now that she is blessedly restored to good health, things must change.”
“You know my charity is important to me, Father.” She raised her chin. “Grandfather supported me. He bequeathed Hartnoll House to me for this very purpose.”
“I’ve watched your inheritance evaporate. A most appalling waste. Your grandfather must have lost his mind. The property is not worth a penny.”
She hated disappointing him but was equally determined to continue. “I cannot turn my back on those who are less fortunate than I.” She wished she could scoop up every orphan in London.
If she’d hoped to shame him into agreeing with her, she’d failed. He merely lifted an eyebrow. “You’ll find a world of unfortunates out there, my dear girl. We cannot help them all without becoming destitute ourselves.”
“There are many in society who don’t think as you do, Father.”
His eyes shadowed, he rubbed his furrowed forehead. She hadn’t noticed his sideburns had greyed. He’d never looked as vulnerable as he did now, as if he carried the world on his shoulders. The sight tugged at her heart and, for a moment, made her question herself.
He put up a hand to cup her cheek. “You are so pretty, my dear, with your glorious fair curls. I don’t know why you can’t be like other young women and involve yourself in gowns and balls, marrying, raising children. It is what nature intended after all. You must wed while the gloss is on the rose. And, of course, you must marry well.” He gave her a gentle push. “Go and be pleasant to Lord Maudling.”
Anger made her compassion for him evaporate. “Surely it would be better if Lord Maudling came to find me. Men like—”
He held up a hand. “Don’t tell me what men like. I am a man, am I not? Go.”
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An Improper Earl Page 12