Page 34 of Make Mine a Marquess

“A pup! I will visit every day.” Phoebe preferred cats, but she’d love to play with a puppy.

Beatrice continued to stroke the cat. “You can tell a man’s true character by the way he treats animals.”

Mimi’s yellow eyes regarded Phoebe. “I think she agrees.”

Phoebe grew conscious of the time. She stood and offered Beatrice her back. “I don’t have time to call my maid, and Willard is expected soon. Will you help me with my laces?”

Beatrice stood and began the task. “You’re lucky you came back from the tavern in time. What would your mother say if you kept the baron waiting? What would he think?”

“Thankfully, I don’t have to worry.” Phoebe shrugged out of the simple dress and slipped on a deep purple afternoon walking dress. She smoothed her skirts in the looking glass. The dress had short sleeves and a heart-shaped neckline and a bit of lace at the bodice. She tucked in stray whisps of blond hair that had escaped her bun.

A knock sounded on the door.

“Perfect timing.” Beatrice picked up a set of gloves from the chest of drawers and handed them to Phoebe.

Phoebe pasted a smile on her face and opened the door.

Lord Willard pushed away from the doorframe and straightened. His blond hair was styled in the popular a la Brutus fashion favored by the dandies of the ton. His blue gaze traveled her from head to toe. “Miss Dawson, dear, you look lovely.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

He’d taken care with his appearance himself. His suit was meticulously tailored. She noticed the padding of the coat’s shoulders. Her mind immediately flew to the marquess. Landon didn’t require padding to accentuate his broad shoulders. He was also at least six inches taller.

She inwardly admonished herself. Good grief! Why compare the two men?

“I’m looking forward to our walk.” He noticed Beatrice and nodded. “Good day to you, Miss Stanwell.”

Willard offered Phoebe his arm. “Come along. There is a colorful field of wildflowers to see.”

She placed her gloved fingers on his arm and allowed him to escort her down the winding staircase to the first floor. Once outside, they walked around the side of the house. Passing the stables, Phoebe looked longingly inside. The whinnying of one of the horses was like music to her ears, as pleasing to her as the chirping of the birds. Her ride with Landon sprang to mind, along with a pleasurable rush of feelings.

She tore her gaze away from the stables.

Soon they came to a wide-open field, closer than the field she’d ridden through with Landon. She took in the blues and purples of wildflowers and the sweet-smelling yellow buttercups. She breathed in the perfumed air. “It’s beautiful here.”

“The estate is more than ten thousand acres.”

He spoke like the land belonged to him. It didn’t.

Did that bother him? To have control as sole trustee for five long years and then to have it suddenly snatched away by the return of the rightful owner?

It must. It had to.

He looked down at her, a strange, albeit intense, expression on his face.

He looked like he wanted to kiss her. Her mind whirled. She was honest enough with herself to be curious. How would his kiss compare with Lord Landon’s?

He clasped her hand. “Phoebe, dear. I’ve been meaning to speak with you.”

She swallowed. “We are not yet at the stage to use Christian names, my lord.”

“Ah, but you may call me William when we are alone. We are to marry, aren’t we?”

He was right. Still, she didn’t want him to call her Phoebe and she had no desire to use his Christian name. “I cannot. Not yet.”

“Then just Willard, no lord, when we are alone.”

The marquess had asked her to do the same and she’d agreed without hesitation. Of course, they’d been nearly naked in a lake and formalities seemed ridiculous. It hadn’t bothered her then, but it did now. Why?