Page 25 of The Earl's Hired Bride
“I’d be honored to have it thought so. He was a wonderful father and husband.”
“You and your mother must miss him very much.”
He was fishing, and she knew it—but she allowed it. “We do,” she said. “Now, tell me, have we accomplished what you wanted? I know I’ve not exactly been quiet, but I have drawn theton’sattention. Has it worked for you—are you left alone?”
“The gentlemen have been curious, but are easily put off by a word or two.”
“And the young ladies?” She held her breath.
“They’ve turned their attention elsewhere,” he assured her, “but for one persistent young miss.”
“Who is it?” she asked, mentally sifting through the girls she’d met.
“Miss Paxton,” he answered with a tinge of distaste.
“Miss Paxton?” Her own aversion rang loud. “But she is already betrothed!”
“So I gathered, yet she keeps showing up like a bad penny.” He maneuvered his team through the gates to the park.
“I’d heard that the Earl of Ardman had gone to his estates.”
“Well, I wish he would come back and take the girl in hand,” Hart grumbled. “I’m at Grillon’s and I swear, she dines there more than I do. She’s growing bold too, hinting that a betrothal is but a promise that may yet be broken.”
Anger and protectiveness surged in her breast. That sneaky cat. She would not sink her claws into Hart. “It’s one thing for her to disparage me,” she said, furious. “But I will not allow her to pester you.”
“Disparage you?” he asked.
Emily rolled her eyes. “She is behind fully half of the rumors that circulate about me—definitely the ones that say I am too coarse to be your Countess.”
Now Hart was riled. “That is ridiculous,” he began.
But they had turned onto Rotten Row and the crowds descended. The phaeton was besieged with friends of his and acquaintances of hers, all wishing to exchange a few polite words. They barely moved for nearly thirty minutes, and through it all, Emily’s brain was churning. The sparkle of the Serpentine caught her eye through the trees—and inspiration struck.
“Hart,” she said suddenly. “Would you walk with me along the water?”
“If you wish.” He hesitated. “But my tiger will not be able to follow along.”
She laughed. “That, my lord, is the idea.”
He assisted her to the ground and they strolled off, leaving the throng behind. Very deliberately she leaned into him as they walked. Determination coursed through her. Moving casually, she turned to smile at him, but aimed herself so that she could see behind.
Yes. As expected, a few people had followed their example. And Miss Paxton, dragging her maid along by the elbow, was one of them.
Perfect.
And it would be perfect, were their circumstances different. He felt so warm and solid beside her. Safe was not a feeling she’d experienced much since her papa died, but walking next to him, she felt . . . protected. As if nothing could go wrong.
Except everything could go very wrong, if she did not take care. And if she did not keep Miss Paxton from becoming an even greater pest.
She sighed.
“You know, there was one other reason I wanted some freedom this Season,” he said, “in addition to the ones we’ve already discussed.”
“Oh?” She glanced back again to make sure their followers were still coming.
“Yes. I’d hoped to have a chance to look around at the young women at my leisure. You know, without worrying that a dance would be willfully mistaken for a proposal.”
She swallowed. “And have you? Looked around at the young women? And found one you might not mind pursuing further than a dance?”
