“Do go on then.”
“First of all, I think Lady Cordelia should know the extent of Mr. Sinclair’s wealth.”
He choked. “That’s rather mercenary of her, isn’t it?”
“Not at all; it’s practical. She should know what lies ahead for her. Financially that is.” She paused. “But do remember these are my questions, not Lady Cordelia’s.”
“She doesn’t know about our meeting then?”
“No, of course not. Did you think she did?”
“I did wonder. There’s a woman near the door who has been glaring at me since I came in and I thought—”
“I can assure you,” Cordelia said with all the passion of truth, “that is not Lady Cordelia. Now then, about Mr. Sinclair’s finances?”
“Ah yes, well, Lady Cordelia can rest easy on that score. Mr. Sinclair is both ambitious and intelligent. I have no doubt that he will one day be among the wealthiest men in America.”
She raised a brow. “One day?”
“Fortunes are not built overnight, Miss Palmer. Mr. Sinclair inherited a tidy sum that is providing the foundation for his current venture.” A smug note sounded in his voice. “It’s going quite well too. He has acquired an impressive group of investors in England and we plan to return home before autumn.”
“Home?” Her heart skipped a beat. “You mean America?”
He chuckled. “That is home. More specifically, Baltimore.”
“He’ll probably want Lady Cordelia to accompany him.”
“Should they marry, I would wager on it, yes.”
“I hadn’t considered that,” she said under her breath.
“Hadn’t considered that a husband might want a wife to live in the same country, in the same house?”
“It just hadn’t crossed my mind that this marriage would mean leaving England, but of course he would expect her to come with him, and she would expect to do so.”
“Would Lady Cordelia be willing to leave England?” he said casually. “Possibly forever? To live the rest of her days in a foreign country?”
“The rest of her days…” Cordelia thought for a moment. “Yes, yes, I believe she would. She’d think it quite exciting. She loves to travel, you know.”
“You’ve mentioned that,” he murmured.
“She’s never been to America and I know she’s always wished to see it. And it’s not like it’s a true foreign country. Why, less than a century ago it was part of the empire, and Americans do speak English after all.” She glanced at him. “In their fashion.”
“Indeed we do.” He smiled. “In our fashion.”
There was something about his smile that was at once most endearing and more than a little devilish. All in all, Mr. Lewis was extremely handsome and most provocative. Not that it mattered.
“Is he handsome?” she asked without thinking.
He raised a dashing brow. “Is it important?”
“Not in the least.” She shrugged. “Lady Cordelia is not so shallow as to be unduly influenced by appearance.”
“Of course not.”
“Still, you must admit, it’s easier to spend the rest of one’s life with an attractive man rather than one whose face would frighten innocent children and small animals.”
“Excellent point.” His brow furrowed in thought. “However, it is difficult for one man to judge whether or not another is considered handsome.”
“Nonsense.” She scoffed. “Women make such judgments about other women all the time.”
“One of many ways in which men and women are different creatures,” he said wryly.
“Simply tell me what he looks like then.”
“Mr. Sinclair is about my height, with dark hair and eyes. In fact, people have said on occasion that we look as if we could be brothers.” He flashed her a wicked smile. “Do you think I’m handsome?”
She sniffed. “I think you’re entirely too arrogant for your own good. No doubt part of that forthright, charming manner of yours.”
“Probably.” He laughed. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“Nor shall I. Besides, whether or not I find you to be attractive is of no consequence and has no place in this discussion. Our meeting is not about you and me.”
“No. It’s about Lady Cordelia and Mr. Sinclair.” He sighed in surrender. “It’s been my observation that women consider Mr. Sinclair quite handsome and charming.”
“Does he like women then?”
“I would say it depends on the particular woman.”
“That’s not what I mean. I mean does he like the pursuit of women?”
“I think he likes the end of the pursuit better, as do we all.” Amusement danced in his eyes. “Miss Palmer, you might be unaware of this but most unmarried men, and any number who are married, like the pursuit of women a great deal. Some men consider it a sport, others a fine art.”
“Is Mr. Sinclair an artist then?”
Mr. Lewis choked. Again.
“Goodness, Mr. Lewis, I do hope I am not embarrassing you.”
“No, not at all.” His voice had an odd sort of catch in it, as if he wasn’t sure if he wanted to gasp in horror or laugh in delight.
“What I mean is…is he the type of man who…” She wasn’t entirely sure how to phrase this. She drew a deep breath. “Will he give up his artistic endeavors?”
He stared. “His wha—”
“Forgo the chase?”
“The ch—”
“Will he be faithful to Lady Cordelia?” she said with a huff.
“Absolutely.” Indignation sounded in his voice. He looked her straight in the eye. “Mr. Sinclair is an honorable gentleman. When the day comes that he enters into marriage, it is a vow and a commitment he will not take lightly.”
“I didn’t mean to impugn—”
“Let me ask you.” His eyes narrowed. “Will Lady Cordelia be faithful as well?”
She gasped. “How dare you suggest otherwise?”
“You suggested the same thing about Mr. Sinclair. You did far more than suggest.”
“That’s a different matter entirely.” She waved off his comment. “Men are notorious for their faithless natures.”
He snorted. “I’ve known any number of women who were just as faithless.”
“You can rest assured, Mr. Lewis, Lady Cordelia will not be counted among them.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. There isn’t a doubt in my mind.”
“I see.” He winced. “She’s not overly attractive is she?”
Cordelia widened her eyes. “Why on earth would you think that?
“Well, all that travel and her independent nature and indomitable character—”
She stared in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“From what you’ve said about Lady Cordelia thus far, I have the distinct impression she has the sturdy nature and stout heart of a tweed-clad Amazon warrior.” He grimaced. “And an appearance to match.”
“That’s what you think?”
“It does explain why she’s not married,” Mr. Lewis said under his breath.
“First of all, Mr. Lewis, you should know that simply because a woman is intelligent and enjoys travel and—”
“She’s writing a book,” he said in the same sort of hushed tone someone might use to say “she has three eyes” or “her mind is not what it should be.”
“—and puts her observations and intelligence to use does not mean she isn’t lovely as well.”
“Then tell me, Miss Palmer.” He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the bookshelves. “What does Lady Cordelia look like?”
“What does she look like?” Cordelia repeated cautiously. This was certainly awkward. But given Mr. Lewis’s questions, and that her answers would ultimately be passed on to Mr. Sinclair, this was probably not the time for undue modesty. Besides, she didn’t want him thinking of her as a stocky, tweed-wearing Amazon. “She’s most becoming really. Indeed, while she is
not a great beauty, she is pretty enough. I would say that gentlemen consider her quite lovely.”
“Gentlemen blinded by her dowry and family connections.”
“Wealthy gentlemen,” she snapped. “Who have no need of her dowry.”
“Is she as lovely as you?”
She met his gaze directly. “More so.”
“I doubt that,” he murmured, straightening and pulling a book from the shelf.
Heat washed up her face. “That’s very flattering, Mr. Lewis, but we are here—”
“Yes, yes, to discuss Lady Cordelia and Mr. Sinclair.” He flipped open the book and paged through it but directed his words to her. “How does Lady Cordelia feel about this marriage proposition?”
“She isn’t yet sure how she feels about it,” Cordelia said without pause. “On one hand, she realizes it’s her duty to marry and ensure her family’s financial stability. On the other…” She blew a frustrated breath. “It’s difficult you know to accept a match based on practicality and responsibility rather than…”
“Rather than love?”
“Love is of no consequence in these circumstances, Mr. Lewis. Lady Cordelia is a dutiful daughter—”
“But surely all women wish for love?”
“Yes, but it is as elusive as the clouds in the sky. They appear solid and real and within reach but in truth they are impossible to grasp. For most of us love is very much an illusion with no substance.”
He considered her thoughtfully. “Is that your opinion or Lady Cordelia’s?”
She gazed into his dark eyes and, for no more than a moment, had the oddest sensation of falling. “In this, as in so many other things, we agree.”
“What a shame, Miss Palmer.” His gaze remained locked with hers. “For both of you.”
“Perhaps,” she murmured. What was this man doing to her? She shook her head and drew a deep breath. “This match is solid and practical and a matter of business.”
“Initially yes, but one would hope a certain amount of affection would grow with time.”
She smiled wryly. “You’re something of a romantic, aren’t you, Mr. Lewis?”
He chuckled. “When it comes to things like marriage and sharing the rest of one’s life with someone, I suppose I am. I’ve never come close to marriage or love for that matter. Therefore I prefer to hang on to the illusion, as you call it. At least for now.”
“Yes, well, illusion aside, one would indeed hope that affection would develop eventually between husband and wife. I understand it’s not at all uncommon in arrangements of this nature.” She cast him a firm glance. “However, you should be aware that, regardless of the financial benefits of this match, she won’t marry him if she doesn’t like him.”
He laughed. “So much for being a dutiful daughter.”
“Would you expect her to marry a man she found distasteful? And would you expect Mr. Sinclair to marry a woman he could not abide?” She shook her head. “Family responsibilities aside, I would wish that on no one. Nor would Lord and Lady Marsham insist on this marriage under those conditions.”
“That is good to know.”
She studied him curiously. “You sound relieved.”
“I am relieved. I count Mr. Sinclair as one of my closest friends. I would hate for him to be trapped in a marriage with a women he could not hope to eventually care for, a woman he at the very least likes. Or a woman who doesn’t like him. However.” He smiled in a resigned manner. “I am confident she will like him. He’s quite a likeable fellow.”
“And as you’ve said, given her advancing years, this could well be her last chance.”
“I never said that,” he said staunchly. “I may have thought it but I never said it.”
“She’s thought it. She can’t help but think it.” Cordelia shrugged. “It’s not a pleasant thought.”
“I can imagine.”
“No, Mr. Lewis, with all due respect, I don’t think you can. This is another one of those instances in which men and women are different creatures.” She searched for the right words. “A man can marry at very nearly any age. No one considers him past his prime until well into his elder years. It’s entirely different for a woman. And for a woman with as many varied interests as Lady Cordelia—”
“Travel and writing and the like?”
She nodded. “Exactly. Her life has been eventful and adventurous and she’s had a great deal of fun but the years have passed, and passed unnoticed. One day you’re at your first ball and then, before you know it, you find yourself to be twenty-five years of age faced with the very real possibility that an arranged marriage may indeed be your only chance for the kind of future that deep down in your soul you’ve always desired.”
“I see,” he said slowly. “Then you’re saying she will indeed marry Mr. Sinclair.”
“I’m not saying that at all. Regardless of her circumstances, she hasn’t decided and she doesn’t want to be hurried. This is far too important a decision to make in haste.” She thought for a moment. “And what of Mr. Sinclair? I haven’t asked you how he feels about this proposition.”
“To be perfectly honest, Miss Palmer.” He paused as if debating the wisdom of his words. “The last thing in the world Mr. Sinclair wishes is to marry.”
The oddest sensation of relief washed through her. “If that is the case—”
“However, as much as he disagrees with his father on virtually every matter regarding his life or his future, he too feels a sense of responsibility as well as family honor.” Mr. Lewis snapped the book in his hand closed and replaced it on the shelf. “As much as he would prefer to find a wife of his own choosing in his own time, he will not renege on a commitment made by his father. He will not withdraw from this arrangement.” He paused. “If Lady Cordelia wishes to do so, however—”
“It would be a different matter entirely, wouldn’t it?”
He nodded.
“That is certainly something to keep in mind,” she murmured. Perhaps, if she was indeed the stout-hearted Amazon Mr. Lewis had envisioned, she could reject him out of hand and not be the least bit concerned about the financial consequences of doing as she wished. As it was, her heart was rather faint at the notion of dooming her family to financial hardship. Almost as faint as it was at the idea of marrying a man not of her own choosing.
At least she had the upcoming weeks in Brighton to consider the ramifications of whatever decision she made.
“I suspect, if she finds Mr. Sinclair as charming as you claim he is, Lady Cordelia will eventually agree to marry him. I doubt that she will see any other choice.” She forced a smile to her face and nodded. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Lewis. I think I have what I need.”
He moved to block her way and stared down at her. “Are you sure? Perhaps we should meet again.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think that would be at all wise.”
“I think it might be the wisest thing I have ever done.” He took her hand and raised it to his lips, his gaze never leaving hers. “Meet me again, Miss Palmer.”
“I…” She stared into his eyes. Dear Lord, there was that falling sensation again. Quickly she pulled her hand from his. “I can’t, Mr. Lewis, nor do I think I should. Besides, we leave for Brighton tomorrow and we will be gone for several weeks.”
“Brighton?” He nodded. “I believe Lady Cordelia mentioned that in her note to Mr. Sinclair.”
“It’s lovely in June. The family goes every year at this time.”
“I see.” He paused then cast her a noncommittal smile. “Do enjoy your holiday, Miss Palmer,” he said in a formal manner. “I suspect we will meet again. Until then,” he nodded a bow, “I remain your humble servant. Good day.” He turned and strode toward the door.
“Good day,” she murmured. Whatever had possessed Mr. Lewis? One moment he was charming and friendly and altogether too tempting in a manner she’d never experienced before and the next he was overly polite and abruptly taking his leave. Not that it wasn’t
an excellent idea. She found him entirely too interesting for her own good.
Mr. Lewis nodded in a pleasant manner at Sarah on his way out the door. The moment it closed behind him, Sarah caught Cordelia’s gaze and raised a questioning brow. Cordelia smiled with a confidence she didn’t feel and started toward her. It was past time they returned home. There was still a great deal to do today before they left for Brighton.
It would be awkward when the truth came out about her little charade. Mr. Lewis was part of Mr. Sinclair’s life and no doubt always would be. Still, all in all, it was a relatively harmless deception. She’d explain to him and he would probably laugh about it. And if Daniel Sinclair wasn’t the kind of man who could laugh about such things, well, that would certainly be a deciding factor in her decision.
A thought struck her and her stomach twisted. The next time she saw Mr. Lewis, she might well be on her way to the altar with his employer.
In spite of the difficulties inherent in travel to strange and exotic locales, or perhaps because of them, travel is a grand adventure. Particularly for most ladies who have little other opportunity for adventure.
An English Lady’s Traveling Companion
Chapter 4
Dear Lady Cordelia,
Your apology is of course accepted but not by any means necessary. I fully understand the pressure that can be exerted by even the most well-meaning parent in a situation such as the one we find ourselves in. It would indeed be most awkward to meet face-to-face under these circumstances. Therefore allow me to tell you something of myself…
“Pack your bags, Warren.” Daniel strode into the office and grinned at his friend. “We’re leaving London.”
Warren’s expression brightened. “We’re going home? Thank God.” He got to his feet. “I can be packed within the hour. When do we leave?”
Secrets of a Proper Lady Page 6
