“You no longer know her?” Lady Hero tilted her head in gentle inquiry.
Lavinia’s laugh floated on the autumn breeze.
Thomas wanted suddenly to shout at Lady Hero, to make that gentle expression fall from her face, to shake her until she quit her questions and her perceptive looks, and then he wanted to jump from the carriage and plant a facer in that stupid young buck with Lavinia.
But he did none of that, of course. Gentlemen of his rank never acted in such a way. Instead, he merely urged the horses on, waiting interminably to pass Lavinia’s carriage.
“She’s in my past,” he said through cold lips. “I met her when I was rather down, I’m afraid.”
He remembered when he was the man who she laughed up at, the way it had made his chest swell. And he remembered the sight of her in the morning light, so carnal, so wise. He’d been able to see every single line in her face, the slight sag to her breasts, and strangely it hadn’t made a whit of difference. She’d been the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
Would ever see.
He cleared his throat. “That’s in the past now. We’ll not talk of it.”
She sighed beside him, the sound sad and somehow lonely. “Perhaps you’re right. It’s best to put aside what might have come before. Our future together should be what we focus on.”
She laid a gloved hand on his elbow, slim and comfortable. “We’ll make an admirable pair, you and I, Thomas.”
He was able to summon a smile to give her. “Yes. Yes, we will.”
And then they were finally past Lavinia Tate.
WESLEY WAS PUTTING the finishing touches on Hero’s toilet the next morning when Phoebe burst in the room.
“You’ll never guess!”
Hero started to open her mouth to ask what she’d never guess, but Phoebe continued in a rush. “Lord Griffin and Lady Margaret have called and asked to take us shopping!”
For a split second, Hero’s heart leaped at the thought of him. But then her practical side asserted itself.
“Oh, my dear.” Hero winced at the excited look on Phoebe’s face. Her entire countenance seemed to glow. “You know that Bathilda doesn’t want me to be seen with Reading. And after bringing him back to luncheon the other day…”
The light went out in Phoebe’s face. “But I cannot go alone with them.”
No, she certainly couldn’t, and Reading was well aware of the fact, Hero thought grimly.
“Please, Hero?”
Hero closed her eyes.
But that didn’t shut out Phoebe’s voice. “Pleeease?”
Hero’s eyes snapped open. “Fine. But only for an hour or so, no more.”
She needn’t have bothered with caveats—Phoebe was already hopping up and down with excitement.
Hero sighed, knowing already that this was a very bad idea. Still, she had to struggle to contain a smile as she descended the stairs after Phoebe.
Reading waited below, looking quite respectable in a dark blue coat and breeches. He smiled as Phoebe bounced up to him, but his eyes were on Hero.
She fought not to blush.
“I’m glad you could join us, Lady Hero,” he said as he escorted them out the door.
She shot him a sharp glance, watching for irony, but he seemed perfectly serious. “Where is your sister?”
His eyes widened mockingly at her. “In the carriage.”
And indeed when they entered the carriage, there was Lady Margaret already waiting.
“Oh, I’m so glad you could come on such short notice!” she exclaimed as they settled on the cushions. “I feel we ought to get to know one another since you’re marrying my brother.”
“Of course,” Hero murmured. “We’ll soon be sisters, won’t we?”
Reading’s face went blank as he turned to the window.
“I hope so,” Lady Margaret said. “I almost feel as if I know your brother, the duke, better. Thomas talks about him so much, and then they spent all that time last summer drawing up their gin bill. Wakefield’s quite passionate on the subject, isn’t he?”
“He believes that St. Giles is crime-riddled because of gin,” Phoebe said soberly. “So by extension he blames our parents’ death on gin.”
Hero glanced at her sister, a little surprised that she’d gleaned this information from the censored things that Maximus said in front of her.
Lady Margaret nodded. “Then I suppose you both are also passionate on the subject.”
Reading turned to look at Hero, and she tilted her chin up as she answered. “Yes.”
“We ladies can’t make bills in parliament,” Phoebe said, “but Hero has recently become the patroness of a home for foundling children in St. Giles.”