But . . . she could send a fast letter to Fred and Cynthia, telling them what needed to be done.
Yes. This could work. She’d manage it, and the trip could secure the funding they needed.
After a moment, she nodded.
“That’s perfect,” Baron Mentmore said. “I believe I’ll join you, Your Grace. Good to get out of the smoke of London.”
“Clear the lungs,” Noel said sagely.
“I’ll come, too,” Mr. Walditch added.
“Myself, as well,” Lady Farris said, and Lady Haighe nodded, also signifying her interest.
“It’s settled, then.” Noel tapped his fingers on the tabletop as if signaling that everything had been decided. “You’ll accompany us, of course, Lady Whitfield.”
She’d expected as much, so she was remarkably calm when she replied, “Thank you, but it’s unnecessary for me to do so. I’m already convinced.”
“You’re going to the Continent soon,” he said. “Stands to reason that before you embark on that journey, you’d want more information about the soap makers. You’ll be better able to determine the amount you wish to invest, if that’s your intention.” His tone was even, and yet there was a hint of need in his gaze. As if he desperately desired to be in her company a little longer.
“Yes, do come with us,” Lady Farris urged.
“Can’t say no,” Mr. Walditch said.
“I . . .” Panic clutched at her. She breathed deeply to loosen its hold, and took refuge in the calm, logical thought.
If she refused to visit the farm, she’d arouse suspicion. And if she told Noel about her deception, she might ruin her family’s chance at gaining not one but multiple investors.
There was nothing logical about wanting to spend a little more time in Noel’s company. She could have a few days with him, then she’d disappear from his life forever.
But first, she would write home immediately and tell her siblings of the visit.
“You make a convincing case,” she said at last.
“Then you’ll come?” Pleasure lit his eyes.
“A man cannot boast of his hospitality without putting it to the test.”
His smile managed to be both self-deprecating and full of conceit. Somehow, only Noel could accomplish such a feat.
“I’ll write to the McGales this afternoon,” she said, “and inform them of our intent to visit.”
“Very good,” he said. “If anyone else decides that they’d like to drink up my cellar and devour my larder, meet at Rotherby House tomorrow at dawn. We’ll caravan and do our level best not to lay waste to the countryside as we go.”
The conversation moved on to other topics. Though she tried to pay attention, it was nearly impossible as her thoughts flew ahead out of the room and careened into the world. There was the letter she would have to pen the moment she returned to Lady Catherton’s town house, and she’d need to secure Nell’s services as maid for several more days, and all the other logistical elements she needed to take into consideration before embarking on this mad voyage home.
The meal concluded, and everyone rose from the table.
“How delightful to fly London’s cage,” Lady Farris said as she came with them.
“The duke did promise excellent hospitality.”
“Is that what you call it?” The countess winked. “Ah, here comes His Grace. I do believe my presence is not required. I’ll just speak with Mr. Walditch, shall I?” She drifted away.
Noel made his way toward her. It was ridiculous to feel nervous around him when he’d literally been inside her last night, but there was something about him that made her sweat. As he stood before her, her body throbbed with want.
“My Lady Hawk,” he said, his gaze hooded. “How you’ve enlivened us sad, dull creatures of the Bazaar.”
“I guarantee no one considers you a sad, dull creature.”
“But you are a hawk.”
She pursed her lips. “Sharp beak and screeching?”
“A born hunter soaring overhead.” Then, in a much lower voice, he said, “I was presumptuous. Again. Insisting that you come with us to see the soap makers.” A rare look of uncertainty crossed his face. “It’s only— I was not ready to say goodbye to you.”
Goddamn him, making her melt like a beeswax candle. “Is that why you suggested visiting them? To spend more time with me?”
“It’s a benefit,” he said, “but not the motivation. You need not go if you truly don’t want to. I’d never force your hand. I may be a duke,” he added, “but I’m not a bully.”
This was her opportunity. Her chance to slip away without any further interaction between her and Noel. She ought