Desire by Design

by Heather Boyd

  Sylvia was truly tempted to meet him again in private, but she did worry how a second meeting might be managed without discovery. Wharton couldn’t again host another masquerade just to invite Sylvia into his home and his bed. She also had a lot to lose if she was discovered in his arms. No matter how pleasurable their encounter, she had her reputation, and that of her family to protect. And then, too, how likely was it that they might come together and recreate that perfect night again?

  “What do you think, Sylvia?”

  Sylvia blinked and glanced around guiltily. “About what?”

  “Goodness, you really are woolgathering a lot today,” Aurora complained.

  “I have a lot on my mind.”

  “Such as? Oh, I suppose you are worrying about our new service. I promise, the introduction will go well today,” Aurora insisted. “If Miss Quartermane and Lord Sullivan hit it off, what’s the harm in doing a little real matchmaking. She’s exactly the kind of wife he’s been asking for.”

  Sylvia did not agree, but she’d been outvoted two to one in the decision to introduce one of their oldest clients to the friend of a new friend. They were to make the suggestion to him later tomorrow and see if he cared for the introduction.

  “I am not at all easy with this change in the services we will offer our clients. Advice and instruction is one thing, but pushing men and women together for the purpose of matrimony is always fraught with problems. We should have waited for the pair to have met at a society ball, and then encouraged and supported his decision if and when he expressed any interest in her.”

  “What could be better? Miss Quartermane comes from a respectable family and has pots of money for a dowry, and Lord Sullivan needs someone keen to wed him. I coached Miss Quartermane myself on what to say so she’ll turn his head when they meet.”

  Sylvia stared at her cousin, a sinking feeling in her heart. “You don’t think very highly of Lord Sullivan, do you?”

  Aurora put her hands on her hips. “A man like that shouldn’t need anyone to find him a wife. He’s handsome, rich, and titled. He’s procrastinating for no good reason.”

  Sylvia was starting to think Aurora wasn’t cut out to give unbiased advice. She was often too impatient with others, Lord Sullivan especially. “He really did love his late wife and fears the perils of childbirth for his next.”

  “For goodness sake, every single woman who sleeps with a man understands the perils they might face in childbirth later. It’s not as if he has to push the babe out himself.”

  “Aurora, really! That was unforgivably crude. You know he’s being pressured by his family to choose quickly. He does not need our impatience as well. I think he was, and will make again, a wonderful husband. Would you want him to do as his family wished and marry a woman he felt absolutely nothing for?”

  She shook her head slowly. “He’s overthinking the matter. If he’s meant to marry for love again, he will know it the moment they meet.”

  “Not everyone feels as you do, cousin, about falling in love at first sight. Sometimes love can take a while to become apparent.”

  Aurora held up her hand. “Please don’t cite our good friends the Carmichaels as an example again.”

  “I will indeed.” She sighed. “They knew each other for so long that they nearly missed the moment when they fell in love. And look at them now. So happy together.”

  Aurora linked arms with her. “My dear cousin, you are still such a romantic.”

  “It is hard to remain a romantic in our line of work,” she noted. “It’s sometimes a struggle to remain optimistic and to be patient with those who are slow to see what’s right under their noses.”

  “Which must be why you’re always woolgathering, imagining yourself being in love with one of our clients,” Aurora teased.

  “You’re the same, and it’s not just over the clients, either. Some gentlemen in society are very worthy of a little woolgathering over,” Sylvia noted, casting a glance down the busy street. Handsome gentlemen were everywhere around her today, and Sylvia really was feeling decidedly lusty, so she indulged her fantasies about the men she saw nearest her. A pretty face did not always deliver a skilled lover. She was pleasantly surprised that Lord Wharton was both.

  She found herself hoping to see him on Bond Street today. “We don’t really know that much about Miss Quartermane other than what your friend told you,” Sylvia confided. “Why, I’ve never even seen her at a ton event in the past year.”

  “They had a death in the family, a close relative, and have only just returned to society. She was very much about the year before we all came to live together in London, I hear.”

  Sylvia couldn’t shake the feeling Miss Quartermane—and Aurora’s new friend, Lady Douglass—were being deceptive in some way. Any enquiries she’d made so far had been fruitless, though. “I would have preferred to know more about the young woman before Lord Sullivan meets her.”

  “Well, today is the day, and then Lord Sullivan is no longer our problem to solve.” Aurora shrugged. “I’m sure you’ll see I’m right.”

  “I just wish I could see him one more time before they meet,” she murmured.

  But instead, she spotted a confident young man she’d met during her winter holiday striding along the pavement.

  Mr. Thaddeus Berringer was a tall streak of desirable masculinity to some women, even before you took into consideration that he would inherit a duchy. Untitled until he did inherit, though, the young man had seemed uncertain of his own appeal, especially when surrounded by the members of the Duke of Exeter’s inner circle. Some young men with similar prospects might have strutted about, but not Mr. Berringer. She’d discovered him to be quite thoughtful and kind and genuinely fond of his older cousin—the man from whom he’d inherit the duchy.

  Mr. Berringer noticed them and waved. He quickened his strides until he was towering over them on the footpath. “Miss Sylvia Hillcrest, now this is serendipity indeed. Good morning to you.”

  Sylvia smiled up at him with genuine fondness. “Mr. Berringer. What an unexpected pleasure for me, too.”

  “Would you believe her grace intended to send me to your door later today with a note she would write while I was out at this very moment?”

  “No. Really?” Sylvia said, grinning. “I had no idea the duke and duchess had returned to London already.”

  “They are inseparable, and when Sinclair—I mean his grace—needed to be in London, she wouldn’t hear of staying behind. We arrived very late last night, actually. The duchess mentioned to me that she hoped you might visit her soon if you are free.”

  “Of course she can,” Aurora cut in quickly, her smile inviting as she looked up at Thaddeus Berringer.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Mr. Berringer, may I introduce my cousin, Miss Aurora Hillcrest to you?”

  He bowed and smiled. “Indeed you may, because I have many a lengthy conversation I wish to have with her about her mysterious cousin Sylvia. How do you do?”

  “Very well, thank you.”

  “Tell me, Miss Aurora, is your cousin always so dreadful at saying good things about herself?”

  Aurora eyes sparkled with mirth, and she moved to stand by his side. “My cousin has always been the retiring sort.”

  Mr. Berringer smiled warmly at Sylvia for so long that her face started to heat with an uncomfortable blush. “One day, I vow to find out all her secrets,” he warned.

  Sylvia had always found other people’s lives much more interesting than her own. “There are none to be discovered.”

  “That cannot be true.” He gestured to the footpath ahead. “Might I walk along with you?”

  “It would be a pleasure.”

  Mr. Berringer offered his arms to both her and Aurora, but it was Aurora who was quickest to claim one. “And what of you, Mr. Berringer? Do you have a great many secrets a lady can learn?”

  “Like your cousin, I won’t say.”

  Sylvia laughed softly. “Are you happy to be in London again,
sir?”

  Berringer waggled his hand. “My cousin prefers to know where I am, and I prefer to know he’s keeping out of trouble.”

  “Usually it’s the other way round with older relatives,” Aurora whispered with an arched look in Sylvia’s direction.

  “Please don’t tell him,” Mr. Berringer begged. “I have my cousin just as I want him, finally.”

  “And how is that?”

  “Happy,” Mr. Berringer said quickly with a sincere smile. “He deserves every good thing in life after being alone for so long.”

  Sylvia smiled too, having seen firsthand the obvious affection the duke had for his duchess. In a private setting, the pair were most comfortable, and many times Sylvia had felt a little envious. However, the pair had waited a long time to be together, and she didn’t begrudge them their happiness. “Indeed, they both do.”

  They paused at a shop window. Aurora had an appointment here today, and they would have to part company now with Mr. Berringer before they could go inside. “I’m afraid we’re going inside this establishment, sir.”

  Mr. Berringer studied the signage and then grimaced. A dressmaker’s shop was not a place to take a gentleman unless he was related, or perhaps a husband. “How sad that we must part so soon, but I do have the consolation of needing to call upon an acquaintance who lives not far from here.”

  “I’m glad to hear you’ll be well entertained without us.”

  “Well, but not better,” he swore.

  “I’m sure that is not true. Thank you for the pleasant walk, sir,” Sylvia said politely. “It was very good to see you again, and do convey to the duchess my hope of seeing her soon, too.”

  “I certainly will,” he promised. “Until we meet again.”

  He offered a jaunty wave and walked off alone, away from the busy shops and down a side street.

  Aurora heaved a heavy sigh when he was away. “Good gracious, you said he was handsome but you neglected to say just how devastating that smile of his could be at close quarters.”

  Sylvia nodded, watching Mr. Berringer until he disappeared from view. What a pity she felt not a hint of sexual longing when he was around. He was excellent company, and funny, but that was all. “He was all the ladies could talk about during the winter. Exeter’s heir turned many a head.”

  “He certainly turned mine,” Aurora said with a laugh, as she pressed her hands to her cheeks. “But I think I’ve little chance of turning his head.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “All he could do is smile at you. I think you have an ardent admirer, my dear.”

  Sylvia blushed. “Gracious, no.”

  “Don’t discount him out of hand,” Aurora warned. “Young men have stamina older women like us can appreciate.”

  Sylvia stared after Mr. Berringer in concern. Surely the young man could not really fancy her. She’d never even flirted with him. “No. No, you are mistaken,” she said decisively, and then turned for the door.

  They entered the little shop, finding the proprietress still occupied. They waited, Aurora tapping her foot with impatience until she was summoned. Sylvia, on the other hand, poured over the fashion plates, finding many gowns she dreamed of wearing. She’d love nothing more than to have a new evening gown, but she was only here to keep Aurora company today before going home empty-handed.

  After an hour, Aurora’s business was done and Sylvia was free to do as she pleased. She accompanied Aurora home but still felt too restless to remain there. Collecting her maid, she ventured out for a walk in Berkley Square again.

  Sylvia didn’t immediately spot her new friend in the park and, feeling disappointed, strolled toward her favorite sweet shop. The crowd there was thin, and she purchased three small pastries to share with her cousins later.

  As she stepped away from the shop and started handing the wrapped package to her maid, her shoulder was bumped and her purchases went flying into the busy roadway. The package unwrapped on impact, and her lovely pastries came to decorate horse manure, and then a carriage wheel finished them off.

  Heartbroken, Sylvia looked around for someone to blame. A well-dressed man was watching her closely.

  “Bad luck,” he said.

  “Did you see who bumped me, sir?”

  “Oh, I’m afraid not,” he apologized. “Let me purchase replacements,” he offered, turning toward the shop.

  “No, thank you,” she quickly told him. She was more than capable of paying for her own indulgences, though now pastries had lost their appeal. “It’s my own fault for not paying attention.”

  “Well, if not a sweet treat, I’d be happy to offer any other service you could name,” he said slowly, holding her gaze. “Perhaps you’d grant me the privilege of seeing you home so we could discuss it.”

  Sylvia observed the man through narrowed eyes, saw a speculative gleam in his, and shook her head firmly. “You’re very kind, but I need no help today.”

  She gestured to her maid to quickly follow her away from the man. She crossed into Berkley Square for her regular exercise, hoping that he was gone from the area before she and the maid walked home.

  She spotted Lizzy seated upon her usual bench seat, but today she had a pair of young women with her.

  Sylvia nodded politely to them but intended to pass by.

  “Are you not speaking with me today?”

  She stopped and turned to face Lizzy. “I did not wish to intrude.”

  Lizzy glanced to the young women. “Take a look to see what is keeping young Mr. Marshall. He should have returned by now. Go no farther than the edge of the square, and take my maid with you.”

  The young women were up on their feet and off faster than she could blink.

  Lizzy smiled. “My daughters. I’d introduce you when they returned, but…”

  “You’re not yet done with being mysterious,” Sylvia finished for her.

  “Precisely,” Lizzy agreed. “Do sit down. Your cheeks are a little pink today. Why is that?”

  “An accident.”

  The lady inhaled sharply. “Were you hurt?”

  “No, I was jostled, and the pastries I purchased to share with my cousins fell into the road.”

  “What a pity. I have to say, I am enjoying the pastry shop you recommended. Mr. Marshall, one of my daughter’s suitors, has gone to purchase something new for us today.”

  At the edge of the square, Lizzy’s daughters were talking to the man who had offered to walk Sylvia home just a few minutes ago.

  He held out his arms to the pair and, head high, chest thrust out, began the short journey to meet them. Sylvia saw his eyes widen with recognition at the sight of her, and then he quickly veiled it. “Well met again?”

  “Sir,” she said, inclining her head stiffly. What a rogue. He’d offered to escort her home when he was expected to return promptly to Lizzy and the daughter he was supposed to be courting.

  “Nigel found all sorts of things for our afternoon tea,” one of the young women gushed, pointing back to the maid, who carried an expensively sized wicker basket.

  “You may return to the house now. The pair of you, off you go,” Lizzy ordered. Her daughters hastened to go, with many a glance over their shoulders for Mr. Marshall.

  Lizzy narrowed her eyes on the rogue. “And you, sir, may take your leave, too.”

  As any good gentleman should, he immediately agreed to take himself away. “Until tomorrow. Ladies,” he said, and then glanced at Sylvia. “I hope we meet again very soon.”

  In a matter of minutes, Sylvia and Lizzy were entirely alone. Sylvia held her tongue as long as she could. “You sent them away so they wouldn’t reveal your identity.”

  “They’ve given me another headache, and I’m much too tired to hear more about their suitors today.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Sylvia promised, casting an eye over the woman discretely. Another costly gown but in deep green. There was definitely tiredness in her eyes and a slight stooping of her posture. “How ol
d are your daughters?”

  “Old enough to be married. I know I should be more excited about them making a match this season, but today I am just not in the mood to think about the future.”

  “Is that young man a contender for their hand in marriage?”

  “Jocelyn seems to like him best of all the others.”

  Sylvia bit her tongue rather than issue a warning. She was nearly certain that man had bumped her arm as a way to start a conversation with her, and she was very sure he’d have jumped at the chance to know her intimately, too.

  “You have an opinion of him,” Lizzy mused. “And judging from your silence, it’s not favorable.”

  “I’m sorry, my mind wandered just then to another gentleman.”

  “Oh? Is he a better catch?”

  “I wouldn’t know,” Sylvia said quickly.

  “For your sake, I hope he’s clever. Men are, in general, fools. My sons included,” Lizzy warned. “Are you going to tell me where you’ve been today? I thought to see you here this morning.”

  “I’d promised to accompany my cousin to the dressmakers. I’ve only just returned.”

  Lizzy glanced sideways. “Tell me, do you always were such dull and unflattering dresses? Is it a costume you wear to hide behind or do you lack fashion sense entirely?”

  Sylvia choked on a laugh. “It’s a ploy. I’ve no choice but to hide from my legion of admirers behind my ugly dresses.”

  Lizzy began to chuckle. “When I have the time, I must take you shopping with me. You need someone to take your wardrobe in hand. You’ll never catch yourself a husband if you hide your charms.”

  Sylvia could have been offended but instead she was amused. What did it matter if what she wore wasn’t the height of fashion? She wasn’t in need of a husband. “What I wear is perfectly suitable for my life.”

  “Then you need a different life,” Lizzy suggested with a tight smile. “Now look over there and tell me what you see different today.”

  Sylvia spotted the woman they’d noticed the other day had come to the park again. She was sitting on a bench, just as coy and pretty as before, but today she had a man by her side. “She caught his attention.”