Ellie pushedher needle through the fabric as she attempted to avoid poking herself. She was having the hardest time concentrating on the task at hand. She couldn’t stop thinking of Lord Bideford and his ridiculous offer.
What right did he have to dictate her actions? He’d hardly even spoken to her before.
Lord Bideford’s voice came from the doorway. “I hope I am not intruding,” he said.
You are, she thought.
Forcing a smile to her face, she hoped that it was cordial enough. “This is your home, my lord. I am merely a guest.”
“Yes, quite right,” he replied, stepping further into the room. “I have come to speak to you. Do you have a moment?”
“I do.” She put the fabric down on the table next to her. “What is it that you wish to discuss?”
“It has come to my attention that my offer was poorly done.”
Ellie lifted her brow but remained silent.
Lord Bideford walked over to an upholstered armchair and sat down. “You are welcome to reside at our townhouse for the duration of the Season.”
“That is most gracious of you.”
Glancing over at the doorway, Lord Bideford lowered his voice and said, “I will state that my offer was rather generous, given the circumstances.”
“And what circumstances are those?”
“You have no dowry, no prospects,” Lord Bideford reminded her. “You do have an enchanting face, but you are not alone in that.”
“Thank you for that,” she muttered.
Lord Bideford gave her a blank stare. “Do you truly intend to secure an advantageous match for yourself?”
“I wish to try.”
“But why waste our time?”
Ellie lowered her gaze to her lap as embarrassment washed over her. “It is of utmost importance that I make a match this Season,” she admitted.
“If you need money, I suggest you take my offer, and you can live comfortably on it while you work as a companion.”
“If only it were that simple,” she murmured.
“It can be,” he pressed.
Ellie rose and walked over to the window. “You seem to believe that I am destitute,” she said as she stared out at the well-maintained gardens.
“Aren’t you?”
“In a way,” she replied as she turned back to face him.
He cocked his head. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“When my father died, he left behind a will that entitled my mother to a generous jointure and a dowry for me.”
“I thought you didn’t have a dowry?” he asked.
“I do, and I don’t.”
“I am afraid I am terribly confused.”
