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“Do you not think you ought to seek my permission before wreaking havoc on my home?”
Her eyes were filled with mirth. “Absolutely not. You’d only forbid it. And I am making it more welcoming, not damaging anything. I’m glad I imposed on you today. I think I would not have been able to get near you by the end of the week.”
He lifted her into his carriage, liking the way she felt, no matter that it was only a brief touch of his hands to her waist. He climbed in after her and settled in the seat opposite hers. “Why would you not have been able to get near me?”
She regarded him askance. “Are you jesting? You are the son of a duke. You are obviously wealthy. Don’t bother to deny it. I know you are because I followed the story of the Battling Buchans in the newspapers. Your family is quite hideous, by the way.”
“That’s an understatement.” But it troubled him she knew of his wealth. Was this the reason she had approached him? Were her parents in dire straits, and she was somehow going to trick him into lending them funds to get them out of whatever scrape they’d found themselves in?
All they had to do was ask him straight out.
He would not have denied their request.
Perhaps Hyacinth had concocted this scheme all on her own. He hated to think so, but what other reason could there be for her suddenly showing up on his doorstep?
