“Goodness, no. I just met him this evening.”
“Impressive, Miss Tremaine. You show great insight into a man’s character on such short acquaintance.” Lady Marion signalled a passing footman and procured two glasses of chilled champagne, one for each of them. “Fortunately for all of us, Hampton is also blessed with a streak of unequivocal integrity. It does help temper that arrogant pride of his. Most will freely acknowledge that he is not only strong and capable, but honest and forthright as well. Though I tease him mercilessly for his devotion to protecting the family name and honor, his support and loyalty have kept me alive socially on more than one occasion.”
“You are fond of him?” Rebecca asked with surprise.
“Exceedingly.” She took a long sip of her champagne. “Though I will be the first to confess his arrogant attitude can be maddening at times.”
“He seems to possess that in abundance.”
Lady Marion laughed. “Oh, I do like you, Miss Tremaine.”
The object of their conversation stood on the opposite side of the room, surrounded by a group of simpering women. Rebecca hazarded a look in his direction, one he returned for half a heartbeat before deliberately looking away. Her cheeks heated slightly.
“If I may be so bold as to offer a touch of experienced advice, do not waste your time and effort setting your cap for Hampton,” Lady Marion said. “He was devoted beyond measure to his late wife, Christina. Those of us who know him well doubt he will ever re-marry, even for the sake of his title.”
Rebecca felt her face flush even more. “I assure you, Lady Marion, I have no romantic interest in the earl whatsoever.”
“Oh, dear, now I have offended you.” Lady Marion frowned. “I spent far too many years searching for the right man to marry that I easily forget all women do not have a burning desire to land a wealthy, well-connected husband. Forgive me.”
“Of course.” Rebecca took a small sip of her champagne, deciding she was secretly flattered that the viscountess thought she would be able to bring any of these men up to scratch. For so long, Rebecca had thought of herself as a spinster, firmly set on the shelf.
“’Tis a burden of womanhood, I fear, to devote so much of our time and energy to securing our futures through marriage,” Lady Marion continued. “Why I know of at least four women who are currently wrestling between the choice of family duty and personal happiness. And one, poor dear, who is in the worst predicament of all—the need to marry a fortune.” She leaned close and whispered merrily, “Amazingly, I was the most clever of all. I fell in love with Viscount Cranborne, who was richer than Croesus, and was thus able to marry for love and money.”
Lady Marion seemed so genuinely pleased with herself that Rebecca found herself smiling back at her. The two women chatted a few minutes longer before Lady Marion excused herself to greet some of her husband’s relatives.
When she left, Rebecca realized under different circumstances she might have enjoyed this opportunity to meet new people, to have a glimpse into this fascinating world of wealth and privilege.
But the lively conversation she had just shared barely distracted her thoughts. Lily was here, beneath this very roof. Safely tucked away in her bed? Or perhaps she was hearing a story or saying her prayers. Rebecca closed her eyes and said a quick prayer of her own, knowing she needed all the help she could muster to survive this evening.
When she opened them, she felt a shiver rush through her, the overwhelming sense that she was under observation. A quick glance confirmed her suspicions. The earl’s dark head was tilted and his eyes fixed intently on her, making her feel decidedly uncomfortable.
He started toward her and the urge to flee grew strong. But Rebecca remained in place, trying to stem the nervous quivering of her stomach.
“Afraid I am going to pinch the silver, my lord?” she asked as he drew near, firing off the first shot.
“You can have the silver, Miss Tremaine. And the crystal, if you so desire. There are other, far more valuable items in my care to protect.”
His brows rose over his intriguing hazel eyes. They were really more green, she decided; green flecked with gold and brown. Beautiful eyes to be sure and decidedly unfriendly and challenging.
He slanted her a hard look, which she met directly. Damn, there it was again—a ridiculous flash of heat that sparkled between them. No man, not even Philip, had ever made her body stir with more awareness.
The dowager countess and a few other ladies joined them, breaking some of the tension. Ignoring her attraction to the earl was difficult, yet not impossible. Ignoring her feelings about Lily, however, was quickly becoming an impossibility.
Her daughter was here, somewhere inside this very house. So close, and yet so far away. The need to search for her was almost a physical compulsion. Rebecca slowly exhaled, worrying that her heart was unable to take the building stress, that her emotions would somehow unleash and burst forth and she would do something utterly disgraceful.
Rebecca cleared her throat and spoke loudly enough to be heard over the chattering conversation of the other women. “I understand you have a granddaughter, my lady.”
“Oh, my, yes. Lily is the light of our lives.” The dowager countess smiled fondly. “She is upstairs in the nursery of course, though I don’t believe she has yet been put to bed.”
“I bet she is a lovely child.”
“Delightful, but what else would a doting grandmother say?” A glint of love and joy lit the older woman’s eyes. “In fact, I might be able to persuade my son to allow her to come down and say hello to the guests. She does so enjoy seeing the ladies and gentlemen in their evening finery.”
Rebecca’s thoughts froze in place at this unexpected opportunity. It was almost too perfect to imagine and confirmed that the dowager countess was unaware of Lily’s true parentage. “Is she not shy of strangers?”
“Heavens no.” The dowager countess laughed. “Even when she was very young we noticed when other children slipped behind their mother or nurses’ skirts, Lily always boldly put herself forward.”
“How charming. I for one would very much enjoy meeting her.”
“Not this evening.” The earl covered his mother’s hand with his own, his smile pleasant, even as eyes bore darkly into Rebecca’s. Drat! She did not realize he had been listening so intently to their conversation.
“Are you certain, Cameron?” the dowager countess asked.
“Yes. Her nurse said Lily had a touch of the sniffles this afternoon. I think it best for everyone if she stays in her room.”
“Another time perhaps,” Rebecca said, her heart clouding with disappointment.
The earl’s displeasure was almost a physical entity. She could sense the level of mistrust he felt for her rise higher. But she had not been able to stop herself; the chance to finally see her daughter had been too tempting to resist.
“Tread carefully, Miss Tremaine,” he whispered in her ear.
Startled, she nearly dropped her empty glass. Mustering her courage, she lifted
