Page 77 of His Improper Lady

They drove back to Marylebone, and the carriage rolled to a stop on a quiet street.

“Where are we? Whose house is this?” Desiree leaned across to look out Tom’s window. She was so close he could see each eyelash and the vein that beat in her throat. Her perfume wrapped around him, as intoxicating as it had been the night he met her.

“It’s no one’s,” he replied, his voice gravelly. He cleared his throat. “It’s for sale.”

“Are you thinking of buying it?” Desiree turned her head to him, eyes bright with interest. She reached for the door handle. “Let’s look at it properly.”

“That’s not necessary,” Tom began, but Desiree was already opening the door and scrambling out. There was nothing he could do but follow her.

“It’s charming.” Desiree studied the narrow gray house, walking up and down in front of it. It was a modest home, set in a row of modest homes, but its red shutters and door set it apart, and it looked very cozy and snug. She turned to him. “Do you plan to buy it?”

Tom shook his head. Looking up at the house, the yearning he’d felt for it from the first rose in him again, but he did his best to keep his voice flat and pragmatic. “No. I haven’t enough money for it yet. It’s been tied up in probate court for a few months, but that won’t last forever. It’ll be at least two more years before I can afford it.” He shrugged. “But this is the sort of place I’d like to have one day.”

Desiree turned to gaze at him instead of the house. “You really want this one, though, don’t you?”

He should have remembered Desiree’s perceptiveness. Of course she would sense just how deep his longing for the house went. “It appeals to me, yes, but there will be others I could like just as much.”

“Couldn’t you borrow money from one of the Morelands? I’m sure they’d be happy to help you.”

“No.” He almost barked the word at her. He drew a breath. “Sorry. But I won’t ask the Morelands for anything. They’ve already given me too much. Con handed over half the agency to me and he wouldn’t take anything in return. Said I’d earned it working there so long. I’m sure they’d be the same way about a loan. I won’t take advantage of them.”

“Of course. I should have realized.” Desiree took a last look. “It’s a lovely house.”

She was right. It was a lovely house. And Tom would have it one day. It seemed even more important now.

BROCK STILL REFUSED to attend the Morelands’ dinner party. Desiree told him that Mr. Paxton had confirmed that Alistair Moreland was their father, but Brock merely growled, “He’s not mine.”

So it was only Wells and Desiree who arrived at Broughton House the following evening. Desiree’s chest tightened with anxiety; however nice the Morelands she had met had been, she was afraid that there were some who would come only to find fault in the Malones. Wells, of course, seemed completely unaffected by nerves.

The butler ushered them into a large anteroom adjacent to the formal dining room. Despite the room’s size, it seemed to be filled with people and noise. Desiree and Wells halted; she thought even Wells was a bit taken aback. Lilah turned and saw them and started toward them, smiling, and Desiree relaxed.

“Welcome to the family.” Lilah reached out to take Desiree’s hand. “Tom told us about your meeting with Mr. Paxton.”

“Not really a surprise,” Con added, coming up behind her. “I was sure you were a Moreland after talking to you the other day.”

They exchanged polite greetings with Wells, and Lilah said, “Allow me to introduce you to everyone. I’m sorry it’s such a madhouse. That’s the children. Nurse will take them upstairs in a few minutes. But they were terribly eager to meet you.”

Looking at the group again, Desiree could see that much of the noise came from a large number of children who seemed in perpetual motion. Seeing Desiree and Wells, the children converged on the pair, chattering eagerly. There was a dizzying array of them in all sizes, shapes and hair colors. There was even another set of twins, an adolescent boy and girl whom Con introduced as the Littles.

Desiree and her brother were pelted with questions from all sides. One young boy pulled a small green snake out of his pocket to show them, which set off a few shrieks as well as a cry or two of delight and caused the tallest girl to exclaim, “Jason, you didn’t! Papa told you not to bring Pierpont.”

Con swooped in to resolve the matter of the snake by handing it over to a resigned-looking footman, and a few minutes later, a middle-aged woman herded the children away. The volume in the room lowered dramatically, and Lilah began to make a circuit of the room, introducing the Malones to the adults of the family.

There were three of the duke’s and duchess’s brood whom Desiree had not met the other day, along with their spouses. Kyria was a tall, attractive redhead who greatly resembled the duchess, and her husband, Rafe, was an American with a lazy drawl and a great deal of charm.

“I hope my boy didn’t frighten you with that little snake,” he told Desiree, his bright blue eyes twinkling.

“I’m sure Emily took care of it,” his wife added with some amusement. “She regards herself as the general of the group. What I want to know is, are you really going to teach Sabrina and Lilah acrobatics? I do hope you’ll allow us older ones to join.”

Beside her, Rafe groaned. “That’s all I need—you learning cartwheels.”

“Of course you may join us,” Desiree replied, no longer surprised by the Morelands’ statements. “I’m not sure what everyone wants to do.”

“Thisbe.” Kyria raised her voice and gestured at an equally tall, slender woman with coal-black hair. A striking swath of silver swept back from one temple. “Come here and listen to this.”

Thisbe—some of the Morelands had the oddest names—joined them, followed by her husband, Desmond, a quiet, bespectacled man, and within moments, the youngest of the Moreland sisters, Olivia, and her husband, Stephen, entered the ever-widening circle.

There was little need to talk, for the Morelands swept the conversation along, and Desiree was able to study the others. Olivia was the only one of the Moreland women who wasn’t tall, and her more subdued coloring and almost shy manner could lead one to assume she was more ordinary...until she began to talk about ghost hunting and the detective agency, which she had founded. Kyria was the most sparkling member of the family and the only one who seemed interested in clothes and parties. Thisbe was the most serious and was apt to embark on conversations about topics that only her husband understood.