Page 102 of Thief of the Ton
“Miss de Grande,” he said. “May I beg an audience with you?”
Lavinia met his gaze, and her breath caught at the expression in his eyes—a desire so raw that she could almost taste it.
He offered his arm.
“Lavinia, darling,” Lady Betty protested, “I hardly think your papa would approve.”
“Did you not just lecture me on the faults of filial culpability—and of filial obedience?” Lavinia asked.
Lady Betty sighed. “Oh, very well.” She released Lavinia’s arm. “I trust you’ll observe propriety, Lord Marlow, with regards to my charge.”
“I will.” A firm, strong hand took Lavinia’s and placed it on an equally firm, solid arm. Her stomach flipped at the vow, so often spoken in church, and she curled her fingers around his arm, relishing his solidity.
They set off, Lady Betty a few paces behind. The swans glided ahead on the water, two serene figures side by side—like any devoted couple enjoying an afternoon constitutional.
“Filial culpability?” he asked.
“The expectation that a son should bear the responsibility for the sins of his father,” Lavinia replied.
“And…filial obedience?”
“The expectation that a daughter should accede to the demands ofherfather, whether or not she wishes to.”
She glanced toward him. Though he stared straight ahead, seemingly entranced by the swans, a smile curved his lips.
“I’ve been coming to Hyde Park every day, in the hope I’d see you,” he said.
“Did you not consider paying us a visit?”
“I doubt I’d have been welcome.”
“You might return with us now,” Lavinia said. “Papa is taking his rest. Aunt Edna has no objection to your company—and she’s entertaining Lady Thorpe today. Do you know Lady Thorpe?”
“Lavinia, darling,” Lady Betty interjected, “I hardly think that’s appropriate. Whether or not you agree with him, you must respect your father’s wishes. He’d never grant Lord Marlow entrance.”
“Papa needn’t know.”
“What if he found out? His constitution couldn’t weather another upset.” Lady Betty shook her head. “I can’t condone it.”
“Lady Betty’s right,” he said. “But perhaps you would take tea at my house—both of you. It’s a short walk from here to Grosvenor Square.”
“I-I don’t know,” Lavinia said. “Papa and I leave for the country in a few days, and I promised Sarah I’d help with the packing.”
He squeezed her hand. “There are certain things that must be said, and I would not have them remain unsaid if you are to leave London.”
Lady Betty watched Lord Marlow with a thoughtful expression in her dark eyes.
“Perhaps, Lavinia, your papa wouldn’t object to your taking tea with an acquaintance before you leave,” she said.
“Do you object?” Lavinia asked.
“Not at all,” Lady Betty said. “And if I might impose upon Lord Marlow a little further, I would release you into his care for the rest of the afternoon, provided he returns you safely home before suppertime.” She cast a hard glare at Lord Marlow. “That is, of course, if he can be trusted with your welfare.”
He raised an eyebrow, then nodded. “Of course, Lady Betty,” he said.
Lavinia approached her companion and lowered her voice. “Is that not improper?” she whispered.
Lady Betty nodded. “Perhaps—but true love should outrank propriety. Lord Marlow is an honorable man, and who am I to deny you the opportunity to spend a little time with him before you leave London? Who knows when the two of you might meet again?”
