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Vanity satisfied, he relaxed against the squabs and contemplated his next move. Destroying his reputation again now seemed less appealing. Perhaps this momentary lapse of reason could work in his favor? If he were seen single-mindedly pursuing the beautiful Miss Lowther, it might deter other females.
It was a brilliant idea. He’d attach himself to her just enough to keep the others at bay, and make amends with her in the process. She, too, would benefit from their association. Wherever he led, other men often followed. He’d make a valiant and obvious, yet ultimately unsuccessful, attempt to woo her. And when she found him lacking, he would walk away defeated, and she would be left to choose from among England’s finest.
If he made it look like a serious pursuit, Lady Catherine might also be more genial. Not that he had any reason to require the woman’s approval. After all, this was merely a means of apologizing to Eden for his boorish behavior—and achieving a measure of peace from London’s ravenous she-wolves. One Season of being left unmolested would serve—for now. He’d cross next Season’s bridge when he came to it.
…
Eden almost laughed aloud as she peeked through the curtained window to watch him leave. This could not be more perfect! As her gaze swung over to her stepmother, however, her elation withered.
“I demand a full explanation,” said Catherine, quietly closing the door. “At once.”
Schooling her features into proper sobriety, Eden made ready her excuse. She’d known this was coming the instant she’d hear
d his voice from down the hall. Already, she’d been the recipient of a mighty scolding for granting him a dance, but it had been well worth it. He’d come to heel! For the moment, however, there was a price to be paid for her victory.
“I assure you I did not in any way encourage this visit.” Not with words, at least. “I’ve really no idea what inspired him to call. Perhaps he truly felt remorse for the way he behaved when we last spoke.”
Her stepmother’s eyes widened with incredulity. “Ha! That dandified blackguard has no such sense of decency. And he has no business associating with innocent young ladies,” she concluded with a snort. “Eden, what will people think if he takes an interest in you? They’ll think you’ve given him cause, that’s what! You rejected five offers last Season, and now—”
“And I was completely justified in doing so,” Eden cut in, furious. “Am I to be trodden upon for those decisions in perpetuity? I realize you wish me gone with all haste, but I will not take myself down the aisle with the first—or even the sixth—man to propose marriage simply because you wish Thomas unrivaled in Papa’s affections.”
The hurt on her stepmother’s face told her she’d made a grave error.
“That’s not true,” said Catherine, a tremor in her voice. “Eden, I may not be your mother, but I had hoped, at some point during the last nine years, you might at least come to view me as a friend. Your place in your father’s heart can never be usurped. Just as to this day he still loves your mother, he will always love you. But you cannot remain with us forever. You are nearly twenty-one and—”
“I’m well aware of my age,” Eden again interrupted, her face hot. “But allow me to again remind you I have no need to marry. I’ve money enough of my own to live into my dotage in comfort. Why can you not simply leave me be?”
Upon her death, Mama had settled on her a sum apart from her dowry to serve as security against just this sort of thing. She’d known Papa would remarry and his new wife might produce a male heir, and she’d wanted her daughter to have money of her own that wasn’t contingent upon her marriage. Once Eden had attained her majority, those funds had been released directly to her. With quiet advice from Papa and help from their solicitor, she’d managed to increase that gift through careful investment. Had she been without a dowry, she still would have no “need” to marry.
It was a bone of contention with her stepmother, who felt it inspired rebellion. That her stepdaughter had actually earned money by means of entrepreneurship was a terrible secret Eden knew Lady Catherine would never want to come to light. The daughter of an earl, her stepmother had tried for too long to rise above the stigma of having married a mere baronet who dabbled in trade.
“This is not about whether or not you need to marry,” insisted Catherine. “Why must you always view me in such a disagreeable light? I’m not trying to be rid of you! I’m trying to help you build a life for yourself. A proper life with a home and a family of your own—a happy life. It’s not right for a beautiful young woman like you to be without a husband!”
“Nor is it right to marry a man I cannot love,” Eden shot back.
“You won’t know whether or not love is possible if you never give any gentleman a chance to prove himself. I have introduced to you every sort of man in the hope of making a good match—a love match, if possible—but none have passed muster. Surely there must be one you find acceptable.”
Not every sort of man. Eden kept the thought behind her teeth.
Coming to stand before her, Catherine took her hands. “Ever have you refused to share yourself, so that no one may ascertain your wants. Tell me what it is you desire, so that I may help you attain it.”
She was tired of hiding. Tired of making up excuses. “You really want to know? Then I shall tell you. My heart’s desire walked through that door just now—and you very nearly sent him away without allowing him a chance to prove himself.”
“Tavistoke?” Catherine released her. “Are you mad? He is the last man on this good green earth you should ever consider for a husband! He’s a—a—” She broke off, red-faced. Her tone became placating. “Eden, be reasonable. Why not Lord Ravenwood, or that nice Mallowby fellow? Both are handsome, wealthy, and titled. Why in heaven’s name would you set your cap for someone like Tavistoke when you’ve but to crook your finger and half a dozen decent gentlemen would instantly bend knee?”
“Because Tavistoke is the only one I want.” Until he’d touched her, she’d been unacquainted with carnal desire. It had been something she’d heard about but had never experienced. Now, thanks to him, she knew what it was to want a man. But she couldn’t say such a thing without causing all manner of uproar.
A gasp of incredulous laughter burst from her stepmother’s gaping mouth. “Surely you are not so foolish as to imagine yourself in love with the man, not after a single dance?”
“Of course not, but I like him.”
“Like him? This is marriage we are discussing, a permanent pairing!”
“I realize this,” Eden snapped, her patience dwindling. “I tried to like the others. Unfortunately, none of them suited me. I believe Tavistoke does.”
“He’s a rake, Eden!” her stepmother hissed. “And not just any rake, but one who dallies with married women and—and—” Her face reddened further. “Do you truly think you can turn him from his wickedness?” Lips pressed together, she shook her head. “The hubris of youth!”
“Papa changed,” Eden countered.
