I can choose my own bride,” he protested, even as he pictured lovely, sedate Marianne Seaton in the Fairbrother sapphires. They’d match her eyes. Which seemed a dashed stupid reason for proposing to a chit.
“What about Desborough’s sister? An engagement would heal the rift between you. Honestly, I could box Sophie’s ears for ruining that match.”
A chill slithered down Leath’s spine. “Lady Jane is forty-five if she’s a day, not to mention a dedicated spinster.”
His mother sighed. “Pity she’s too old to bear children.” She paused and Leath hoped the discussion was over. A hope quickly shattered. “If only Lydia Rothermere hadn’t married that penniless libertine. She was a marvelous hostess, and a Rothermere match would silence talk of a feud.”
“God made a mistake when he created you female, Mamma,” he said drily. “You’d make a capital prime minister.”
She laughed and dismissed his comment with a wave, although it was true. “I’m a mere woman, James.”
He smiled, hoping that she’d stopped listing possible marchionesses. “And clever as a fox.”
“You flatter me, darling.” Briefly he saw the beautiful girl who nearly forty years ago had captivated the brilliant marquess with the glittering political future. Fate had played his parents some cruel cards.
“Not at all.” He sank into one of the frail chairs near the blazing hearth. The chair creaked beneath his weight. He was a large man and the furnishings in his mother’s apartments were decidedly dainty. “Let me establish my credentials as a respectable landholder before we plot my walk down the aisle.”
“You’ve always been a solid, reliable, thoughtful gentleman. People will eventually remember that. You’ll be back in London before you know it.”
He smiled, while his vanity bucked at the description. What a dull dog he sounded. “Ever the optimist, Mamma.”
“I have every faith in you.”
Sometimes he wished she didn’t. Each step of his life, he’d carried the weight of his father’s unfulfilled promise and of his invalid mother’s hopes. No wonder he’d never kicked over the traces like his less burdened colleagues.
Now he faced a solid, reliable marriage. The prospect was depressing. “I thought to find you all cast down with your own company,” he said. “You’re in better spirits than I expected.”
“I was lonely at first. There’s no denying it.”
“So what’s happened?”
She looked almost mischievous. “Aha, I must reveal my secret.”
Whatever she was up to, he was in favor if it lent her this spark. “Do tell.”
She rang the bell on the side table. The door to the dressing room opened and a neat, fair-haired young woman entered, head lowered and hands linked decorously at her waist.
Leath’s gut tightened with a premonition that the alignment of his planets changed forever. Of course, the girl was the mysterious Miss Trim who had kept him restless and intrigued past dawn.
“My lady?” The girl’s curtsy conveyed considerably more respect than she’d granted him a few hours ago, Leath was piqued to note.
“Nell, let me show you off to my son.” The fondness in his mother’s voice troubled him, although only moments ago, he’d been grateful for whatever had brought about this positive change in her. His mother turned to him as if she presented a huge treat. “James, Miss Trim is my companion.”
The girl poised in the doorway. She wore the same plain gray gown and her hair was still wrenched back. She looked biddable and competent. Why, then, was he so convinced that she was up to no good?
During his sleepless hours, he’d wondered if his imagination exaggerated her attractions. Daylight didn’t lessen her physical impact. There was nothing flashy about Miss Trim, nothing vulgar. The purity of her features struck him even more strongly now than in candlelight. And that miracle of a mouth still made his skin itch with unwilling sexual response.
“Good morning, Miss Trim,” he said calmly.
Her gaze shot up to meet his. With a satisfaction completely out of kilter with the fact, he noticed that her eyes were a coppery brown, striking against her pale hair. “Welcome home, my lord.”
“Thank you.”
What the devil was she playing at, calling herself a housemaid? What the devil had she been playing at in his library at three this morning? The revelation of Miss Trim’s position in the household raised more questions than it answered.
“Nell has become indispensable.” His mother’s voice was warm with affection. Which made him uneasy on so many levels.
“I’m sure.” Leath mustn’t have contained the irony in his tone because his mother cast him a puzzled glance.
“She’s transformed my life,” his mother said, in answer to his unspoken criticism.
“You’re too kind, my lady.” Miss Trim’s voice was low and melodic, like a cello.
“You didn’t mention Miss Trim in your letters,” Leath said neutrally. Given his mother wrote most days, the omission had to be deliberate.
“I wasn’t sure you’d approve,” his mother said.
“I’m not sure I do,” he said. “When I’ve offered to arrange a companion, you’ve always declined.”
His mother grimaced. “You’d saddle me with some destitute relative. Bores, every one.”
“A little harsh.”
“But only a little.” His mother reached for Miss Trim who, blast her, took her hand. “Nell does me perfectly, especially since Sophie left. I need someone young and bright to talk to.”
Leath had no right to resent the implication that he wasn’t young and bright. Miss Trim cast him a nervous glance under thick lashes, dark like her brows. She must expect him to betray her midnight wanderings. He wondered why the hell he didn’t.
“Perhaps. But I would have liked to help you find someone suitable.”
The girl’s lips flattened. His mother looked equally unimpressed. He realized that he’d handled this as badly as a parliamentary novice with an unpopular petition. He must be wearier than he’d thought. Or Miss Trim’s silent and subtly hostile presence unsettled him.
“Nell is completely suitable. You’ll see.”
He’d see something, that was sure. He wasn’t letting the manipulative Miss Trim out of his sight.
“My lady, perhaps it would be better if I finished ordering those embroidery patterns.” The girl shifted uncomfortably. Obscurely
