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He swallowed roughly. “Pleasant.”

“Pleasant.” Preston arched a brow. “An interesting description. I am unsure whether I should be intrigued or appalled. But we’ll have to complete the conversation another time—here’s the carriage. And if I’m not mistaken, I see ‘Melia at the door.”

Lady Amelia exited the house in front of her father.

While Preston favored his fair mother, Amelia was a feminine version of the earl—jet black hair, wide-set gray eyes, a small nose, and full lips.

Though she was generally considered unapproachable, those lips had inspired sonnets from more than one young buck. As a poem—or a painting—Amelia was stunning. Only she rarely smiled.

Asquith led Preston back across the street and exchanged greetings with both the earl and his daughter.

“Asquith,” Hampton said. “You look more and more like your father every time we meet.” He clapped Asquith on the shoulder. “Good man. Few like him.”

Asquith inclined his head in appreciation of Hampton’s well-meant praise. Compliments about his father left Asquith at a loss.

Who had his father been? Principled and strong? Or naïve and overly gentle?

Hampton, however, had been one of the few who sided with his father when his father joined the faction who insisted Lord Cochrane be prosecuted in 1814 for market manipulation. That kind of friendship should be honored.

“He was very... good,” Asquith managed.

Hampton studied him for a moment. “I hear you’re building your stables.”

“I am.” Asquith’s heartbeat thumped. “And, as such, always on the lookout for my next investment.”

“Interesting.” Hampton glanced between Asquith and Lady Amelia. Then he smiled. “We’ll talk later, yes? I believe it’s time for you young people to depart.”

Asquith nodded, his heart sinking. Clearly, Hampton, too, had mistaken the purpose of this outing.

Did his best chance of acquiring a stud he could afford depend on his courting Amelia?

He hoped not. He liked Lady Amelia, but not as his wife.

And he couldn't begin to think of courtship. Another lady had laid claim to his time, consumed his attention, and rattled his heart. A lady he knew was so much more than “pleasant.”

***

Lenora removed Millie’s pelisse and then slung the coat over her shoulders so that her arms hung loose beneath the layers.

The warm day made the fur-trim unbearable; the pelisse felt like a furnace against her skin. Even without her arms tucked inside the sleeves, she radiated enough heat to curl the wispy strands of hair at her temples.

However, the pelisse was not the sole culprit, her nervousness heightened the flame.

Even though Lady Asquith had not spoken again of a marriage of minds, Lenora suspected the dowager had a plan when she suggested this outing. And Lady Asquith’s plans inevitably made things happen.

Agitation made her bounce on her toes as, beneath the coat’s cover, she extended and then clenched her fingers.

She’d brought every one of her sister’s talismans, but their magic was not working. She was hot, she was restless, and she could not push her heart back down into the cavity where it belonged.

Remembering how Emily advised her to focus on her desired outcome, she closed her eyes. When the day concluded, what sensation did she wish for?

Heavens. She just wanted to survive the afternoon.

When she’d first seen Lady Amelia exiting Gunter’s, she’d been deeply jealous. But rivalry was not in Lenora’s nature. In truth, though the young lady had not appeared amiable, Lenora’s impulse was to initiate a friendship.

Lady Asquith had described Amelia as a quiet-natured, aloof lady who’d had multiple Seasons without ever having accepted an offer for her hand.

If Lenora understood anything, she understood hiding behind a shield. Amelia may appear indifferent, but her “indifference” could be world-weary languor in disguise.