Page 69 of Make Mine a Marquess

He nodded, the smooth strokes of the oar never missing a beat. “I’d like to visit again and take supplies.”

“You want to go together?” Her heart pounded against her ribs.

He cocked his head to the side. “Of course. I doubt they’d want a male to visit alone. Besides, I have no idea what necessities a new mother would need and require your advice.”

She thought of what she’d delivered in the past to the London charity. “Nappies, clothing, and we need to ensure the mother has sufficient food for herself so that she can nurse the babe.”

“I can see to the food if you see to the other items.”

“I’d like to visit soon.”

“Is tomorrow soon enough?”

With Anne’s help, she could gather the items in time. She felt a quiver of excitement at the task. This was what she thoroughly enjoyed—organizing to help others in need.

As for Landon, he was a marquess. Didn’t he have other important duties to attend to? When he wasn’t required as a host, he’d been meeting with stewards and Mr. Adian and squirreling himself away in his study for hours at a time.

As if reading her mind, he spoke. “Landon Manor neighbors the village. I have an obligation to see to those in need, not just my tenants and servants. A quick visit will not get in the way of my duties.”

“Tomorrow would be fine,” she said.

Too soon, they returned to shore and Landon leapt out and dragged the boat up onto the narrow gravel beach. He held out his hand to assist her stepping out. She placed her hand in his. Warmth followed the path of his hand, heating the strangest places, coiling deep inside of her. She released a shuddering breath, sad the boat ride had ended as fast as it had. It was unnerving.

“Thank you for your company, Miss Dawson,” he said.

Afraid the quiver in her belly would sound in her voice, she merely nodded.

Beatrice met her by the lakeside. “That was a lovely boat ride.”

“You didn’t get seasick?”

“No. Mr. Adian is a most able oarsman.”

She eyed her cousin. “Is that so?”

Beatrice gave her a sidelong look. “I’m sure the marquess was just as able.”

That, Phoebe could confirm. “He told me one of the women at Sarah Smith’s home delivered her babe. We’re to visit tomorrow with gifts and food.”

Beatrice lowered the parasol she was about to open. “The marquess bothered himself with this?”

“He didn’t seem bothered,” Phoebe said.

“Hmm. I wonder why? Is it the charity or you that has him so absorbed?”

“Why me? He knows I’m betrothed to Lord Willard.”

Beatrice watched her the way a sister would if she had one. “Maybe you can ask him yourself.”

It was a good question. A deeply disturbing thought struck her.

She wanted it to be because of her.

…

“Let’s stop in this shop. I see something of interest,” Landon said.

They were on their way to Sarah Smith’s home to visit the new baby. Phoebe held a wicker basket full of baby clothes, bibs, and nappies. Landon held a larger basket full of fresh fruit, cheese, and cured meats which had been prepared by the housekeeper, Mrs. Robinson.