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“It is not cold today, Mother,” he said slowly. “I shall be perfectly fine.”
“This weather is so unpredictable.” She moved to the window to glance up at the mostly blue skies. “I sense rain later. You must come home if the heavens do open.”
Blake bit back a response. Really, his mother should be worrying about her own health. Though not a delicate woman, she was of an age where a cold snap could well kill her off. He doubted she would appreciate him pointing that out, however.
“I shall see you later, Mother,” he said instead, jerking his head to Ashford who had watched the exchange with raised brows.
“What is going on with your mother?” Ashford asked as they mounted their horses.
Blake shook his head. “I have little idea. She keeps trying to...mother me, I suppose.”
“A few years too late I think.”
He nodded and flicked the reins. Decades too late really. He could have done with mothering when he was a boy and under the vicious rule of his father. He most certainly did not need it now.
Chapter Nine
“If Chastity finds all this out, she shall have Anton cast me onto the streets,” Aunt Sarah bemoaned. “First last Season…” Aunt Sarah clamped her mouth shut. They had vowed never to talk on what Demeter had foolishly done last Season with that man. “And now this…”
“Chastity shall not find out anything,” Demeter assured her aunt, picking up the pace to pass two young ladies who strolled along the graveled path at an uncommonly slow pace. Their heads were bowed close together and giggles emanated from them as Demeter passed, trailed by her aunt.
Her shoulders tightened and she forced herself to release them. They were not laughing at her. How could they be? It had been years since she’d been mocked for her stutter and these girls were likely discussing something else.
It did not stop her from feeling the back of her neck heating, however.
“Chastity is not my mother,” she reminded her aunt.
“No, but she is the oldest of you sisters, and she worries for you.” Aunt Sarah pressed a hand to her chest. “Not that I do not, but I knew we were leading to something last year when you met that scoundrel...”
Demeter paused and thrust a finger at her aunt. “You most certainly must not tell anyone about that.”
“Goodness, what do you take me for?” Aunt Sarah crossed her heart several times. “I swear on Simon I won’t utter a word. I have no desire to see scandal brought to our doorstep. Again.”
“I should never have told you,” Demeter muttered.
Her one daring and bold moment had been a complete failure. She couldn’t confide in Eleanor—she didn’t think her sister would understand—and Chastity and Cassie led busy lives now they were married. Aunt Sarah, by her own admission, had never been the most well-behaved of women.
“All I am saying, Demeter, is that you should choose carefully.”
“So I suppose you are going to tell me that getting involved with Mr. Blake is a mistake.”
“Oh no. I have rather a good feeling about that one.”
Demeter tugged her to one side as several gentlemen on horseback barreled down the wide path that led alongside the river. Her aunt had lived with them for years, ever since her husband died but sometimes, Demeter still found her entirely unpredictable. First she was scolding her for her silly risk last Season and now she was encouraging her to associate with a known rake.
“W-well, I am not really getting involved per se, anyway. He wants my help and no doubt once I give it, we shall be back to being practically strangers again.”
“He’s the sort of man one really, really wants to keep as a friend.” Aunt Sarah gave a lengthy sigh and took both her hands. “My girl, I only ever want the best for you, and I have seen the light fade from your eyes Season upon Season. Even the investigative club does not fulfill you as it used to.” She moved her hands up and cupped Demeter’s cheeks, her silken gloves cool against her skin. “I do not know what shall make it return but whatever I must do to support you, I shall. Just ensure you are safe at all times or else I shall never forgive myself. Or you. And neither will Simon.”
Demeter could not help but smile. The concern in her aunt’s faded blue eyes dug deep. “You are too good to us, Aunt Sarah.”
“That I am. I should be off having scandals of my own!” She swiped a finger under her eye.
“You do not have to fear anyway. Mr. Blake does not want me to act alone anyway.”
“Ah. So he is a gentleman. How excellent.”
Gentleman was a stretch. Technically he was, but no one could escape the knowledge he seldom came to London without a whiff of scandal following him. Admittedly, this year there hadn’t been any yet—but last year he’d been chased out of a bedchamber with a broom according to the scandal sheets. The year before, some forlorn woman had followed him all the way to Italy in the hopes of sharing his bed once more. There was no getting away from the fact that Mr. Blake was scandalous indeed and she would be wise to heed her aunt’s advice and be cautious.
