style="font-size:15px;"> “If that is the obvious answer, what is the unobvious one?”
“They were my students, and I’m very fond of them. I’ve known William, the youngest, since he was in leading strings.” Alys gave a brittle laugh. “And this is the closest I’m likely to come to having children. I would have been a fool to pass up the opportunity.” She stopped suddenly, wondering what had made her reveal a deep and painful truth like that.
Tactfully restraining himself from probing more deeply into what was obviously sensitive territory, Davenport said, “I hope they realize how fortunate they are to have you, Miss Weston.”
Shaking off her mood, she said with a grin, “Merry might, but the boys look on me in the light of a necessary evil. I’m always nagging them to do their studying, mind their manners, and make at least a token gesture to the proprieties.”
At the sight of her wide smile, Davenport sat up and leaned forward in his chair so he could scrutinize her face. “Lady Alys, you have dimples,” he said accusingly.
Caught, Alys blushed. “I’m sorry, I can’t help it. I think God made a mistake and gave me someone else’s dimples.”
Davenport stood, his tall form looming over her desk. “Don’t apologize. They’re quite delightful. Dimples are called the mark of Venus, you know.”
He smiled that lazy, intimate smile, the one designed to make proper ladies forget their virtue. Alys found herself smiling back.
He raised one hand and lightly brushed her cheek, right where a dimple lurked. It was a casual gesture that some women would hate, and others find utterly entrancing. Alys was of the latter persuasion. His touch was warm, and her hypersensitive skin recorded the faint roughness of the whorls on his fingertips. It was as erotic as a kiss, and she felt a reaction clear down to her toes.
Lord only knew what showed on her face, because he dropped his hand and stepped back, his expression growing cool and detached. “If you would prefer not having me for dinner, I can send my regrets to your ward. You really should not have your employer forced on you after normal work hours.”
She swallowed hard. “If you can bear it, it would be better if you came tonight. I’m afraid of what Merry might do to get you there tomorrow.”
“If you’re sure you don’t object, I’ll be over at half past six.” He gave her a wry smile. “I’m sure the conversation at your house will be more enlivening than at mine.”
He nodded and left the office, his head nearly brushing the lintel of the door. With a dazed mixture of alarm and amusement, Alys realized that it was not Meredith’s virtue she should be worried about. It was her own.
After clearing her correspondence, Alys had just enough time to return home, bathe, change for dinner, and stop by Meredith’s chamber for a serious discussion.
Merry sat at her dressing table trying a new hairstyle. She swiveled on her stool and gave her guardian a mischievous smile. “That worked very well, didn’t it? The boys will be delighted to meet Mr. Davenport.”
Alys sat down on the bed with an inward sigh. Clearly she had her work cut out for her. “Merry, I’m very upset about your forward behavior today. Not only did it pass the line of what is pleasing, it was potentially dangerous.”
Merry laughed and pulled a handful of blond hair to the crown of her head. She turned back to the mirror and studied the effect. “How could it be dangerous?”
“Meredith, stop fussing with your hair and look at me. This is serious.” When she used that tone, Alys was always obeyed. Her ward obligingly turned and faced her.
“Reginald Davenport is very different from your shy young local admirers,” Alys said warningly. “If you issue a blatant invitation, he may accept it.”
“We were only flirting,” Merry said, her wide blue eyes guileless. “He flirts very nicely, so it seemed a good chance to practice. He’s hardly likely to ravish me, is he?”
Snapping with exasperation, Alys said, “Being ravished is not the only danger. Davenport’s dealings with women are notorious—even flirting with him could damage your reputation. Falling victim to his charm could damage you a good deal more. Falling in love with him would be a guarantee of breaking your heart. Can I spell it out any more plainly than that?”
Merry gave a peal of laughter. “Good heavens, Alys, I’m hardly likely to fall in love with a man old enough to be my father. He’s not even good-looking.”
Alys blinked with surprise. Surely Meredith could not be unaffected by Davenport’s mesmerizing aura of virility? She tried to remember what had attracted her when she was Merry’s age, and decided that even at nineteen she would not have been indifferent to a man like Reggie Davenport. Of course, she would have known better than to succumb to that kind of low animal appeal. Merry was just showing her common sense by refusing to find him attractive. Pray God she continued as wise.
Fixing her charge with a no-nonsense gaze, Alys said, “Will you take my word that it is better to be careful where Davenport is concerned? I’ve seen a good deal more of the world than you, and I promise you, the man is trouble.”
Merry stood and crossed to give her guardian a quick, affectionate hug. “Poor Lady Alys. We do lead you a miserable life, don’t we? If it isn’t William sneaking into the stables, it’s Peter trying to learn to drive to an inch, or hordes of my silly suitors underfoot. You must be sorry you ever took us on.”
Her tone had the teasing confidence of someone who knew she was wanted, and Alys found her lips curving into a smile of response. “I’ll admit that with the three of you, life is sometimes too full. But without you, it would be very empty.”
Meredith gave a wise, enchanting smile that made her seem more the parent than the child. “I promise I won’t do anything rash that will ruin me forever, but I don’t think I will be able to resist the temptation to flirt. Though Mr. Davenport is not at all the sort of man I could fall in love with, I did think he was rather sweet.”
Fascinated, Alys tried to imagine how Davenport would react to the knowledge that a young diamond of the first water considered him “rather sweet.” Suppressing a smile, she asked, “What is the sort of man you could fall in love with? We’ve never really discussed that.”
Merry frowned at her reflection. “I’m not absolutely sure because I haven’t met him yet, but I would want him to be a man of grace and charm. Reasonably intelligent, but not a great scholar or wit, or he would find me sadly frivolous.” She began deftly pinning her ringlets into place. “Naturally, I must find his appearance pleasing, but it will be better if he isn’t staggeringly handsome. I don’t want a man who is terribly vain.”
Alys leaned against one of the bedposts and folded her arms in a most unladylike fashion. “Need the gentleman be rich and titled?”
“Well, at least comfortably well-off—I don’t think I would find poverty very amusing.” She secured the last curl with a well-placed hairpin. “A title might be nice, but it’s hardly essential.” She turned to face her guardian, her heavenly blue eyes lit with humor. “If I ever did meet a nobleman, he would surely feel that he was conferring an enormous favor by marrying a girl of no great fortune or birth. I would prefer the gentleman
