be returning this afternoon.”
She quirked a brow. “Lord Paxton has sent someone to assist you?”
“I wasn’t supposed to know who was responsible for the girl, but she slipped and told me who was paying her. Lord David’s just like his father. It’s very kind of him.”
It warmed her heart to have her high opinion of Lord Paxton confirmed. “Indeed it is.” She poured out a small glass of the mulled wine and helped him take a sip. Then she left the bottle on a nearby table in case he wanted more later.
“We don’t want to tire you.” She looked at Mr. Blatherwick. “We need to go before we tire Mr. Knight excessively.”
On the way home, she grew alarmed when Mr. Blatherwick leapt off his seat facing her in the coach and plopped down next to her.
“Mr. Blatherwick! Whatever are you doing?”
“I’ve been waiting ages for this intimate opportunity.” He snatched her hand.
Repulsion surged within her. Being near him was infinitely different from being near the wonderful Lord Paxton. She felt dreadfully guilty that she did not feel more charitable toward the less-favorably endowed (at least physically) Mr. Blatherwick.
She pushed away. “This is most improper!”
“But it’s not as if you’re a maiden—and besides, it’s not as if I mean to make any improper proposals. I mean to honor you with a proposal to become my wife.”
It was as if a huge drumbeat thudded in her chest. For some time now she had been vaguely aware that this man was courting her, yet still when his actual declaration came, she was unprepared with an answer.
He looked so confident, so hopeful. She hated to disappoint him, even if he was not as admirable as Lord Paxton.
“This is not a good time,” was all she could think of to say. “I have too much on my mind with Christmas and…and plans to be made and all.”
The coach pulled up in front of Darnley, and when the coachman came around to open the door and assist her from the carriage she could have expelled a sigh of relief.
“Then I shall wait until January, my dear Mrs. Milne, to give you the opportunity to be the wife of the most prosperous man in all of Sussex.” When he went to get out, she held up a palm. “So nice to visit with you, Mr. Blatherwick, but I have pressing business with Mrs. Ballard regarding…Christmas.” She did have to discuss the Christmas Day menu.
He insisted on pressing his lips to the back of her hand. She found herself wishing it were Lord Paxton who was touching her in so intimate a way.
When Mary tucked Stevie in that night, he could only barely contain his excitement over the Christmas gift he’d purchased for her that day in Lower Worthington. “And wait until you see what Lord Paxton’s bought for you!”
Her heart sank. She had nothing for his lordship for Christmas.
A few minutes later when she entered the drawing room, where a table had been set up before the fire for the two of them to play cribbage, her heartbeat fluttered. He stood when she entered and gave her the most heavy-lidded, seductive…gawk she’d ever received.
Her pulse quivered madly as she approached him.
She drew a deep breath as she sat down facing him. She played with intent and did not dare initiate a conversation for fear of dissolving into a love-struck ninny.
After just one game, he suggested they move to the sofa. He continued his nightly ritual of pouring each of them a glass of port. This time it was she who offered a toast. Clinking their glasses together, she said, “Here’s wishing one kind, thoughtful lord a wondrous Christmas since I have nothing material to give him.”
Watching her with a smoldering gaze, he tapped his glass to hers and took, for him, an uncharacteristically small sip before putting down his glass. He leaned closer and spoke in a throaty voice. “You have it in your power to give me that for which I’ve been most longing.” When it came to recognizing the signs of a man gripped by desire for a woman, she was no novice. Now she understood the sultry manner in which he’d been watching her, the huskiness in his voice, the various ways he’d found to touch her the past couple of days.
She was so exhilarated by the knowledge, it was as if a luscious flower were blooming inside her. She had never imagined a man with all his attributes—including a title—would ever be interested