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“Well, some would say differently.” He shrugged and grinned. “But the boys like to pretend to be gentlemen.”
Demeter gave her sister a tiny nudge with an elbow. What was going on with her sister?
“I did not realize you were involved,” Demeter said, keeping a polite smile in place in the hopes of drawing the attention away from Eleanor, who looked increasingly like her brain had come to a complete standstill. “How lucky they are to have you as a patron.”
“As they are to have you.” His eyes warmed when he looked behind her and Demeter twisted to see some of the boys waving at him through the window.
Demeter laughed. “I think you are in demand. We are keeping you from them.”
“It seems so. I had better make haste or there shall be some form of rebellion.” He tipped his hat again. “Good day, ladies.”
Once Lord Ashford entered the building, Demeter took her sister’s arm. “What has Lord Ashford done to you?” she asked.
“Oh.” Her sister seemed to jolt to life. “Not a thing.”
“Eleanor...”
“He’s a rake, Demeter. I do not trust him that is all.”
One could say the same of Blake, yet she trusted him implicitly. She sighed. What a dangerous situation to be in.
“Anyway, should we not be discussing other matters?” Eleanor took Demeter’s arm. “Like your wedding plans. You know Anton is not impressed by the fact your Mr. Blake did not ask for his permission.”
Demeter wrinkled his nose. “Anton is such a dry old stick. You would think Eliza would be a good influence upon him.”
Their sister-in-law was less rebellious than the rest of them, but she was her own woman and usually managed to talk Anton out of pretending to be their father.
“Anton has a point.” Eleanor stopped, forcing Demeter to turn to face her with a hand to both shoulders. “Are you certain about this engagement, Demeter? No one would blame you if you wished to change your mind? We all know Blake is rather, well…”
“Well?”
“Rakish.” She jerked her head in the direction of the hospital. “He makes Lord Ashford look like a monk.”
“He is rakish,” she agreed, “but there is more to him than that.”
“We only want you happy.”
“You’ve all been discussing our engagement?”
“Of course! Why would we not? It is about the most shocking thing to happen to us in ages, and that includes Chastity marrying Valentine.”
Demeter glanced at the pavement. Of course it was shocking to them. To the whole of Society too, most likely. Who would have ever pictured the handsome and charming Blake marrying a meek, stammering wallflower? She inhaled slowly and forced a smile upon her face.
“Do not worry about me,” she assured her sister. “I know exactly what I am doing.”
She hoped.
***
“Blakey.”
Blake narrowed his eyes at his mother. “I told you not to call me that.”
She swished into his study, plucked a letter from the stack atop his desk andtsked. “You hired a private investigator to look into Mr. Foster?”
He rose from his chair, waved Hammond away with one hand and snatched the letter from her hand, crumpling it up and throwing it into the empty fireplace. The information was useless anyway. He’d yet to hear from Demeter—his own blasted fiancée—about what she’d discovered via her friend.
He’d scared her away. It was the only explanation. Scarcely a day had gone by without him seeing her since his return for the Season. Hell, she hadn’t even visited Ernest today, who was curled up by the empty fire, shedding hairs over the Khotan carpet. The mournful look in his eyes tugged at Blake’s heart. If his mother wasn’t here, he’d be tempted to curl up on the rug beside him and tell Ernest he missed her too.
