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“I would expect nothing less.” Henrietta paused, looking at his distressed countenance. “I assure you, I do not do this for a lark.” She looked up at the house with a rueful twist of her lips. “I know the ton thinks I am a matchmaker because I like to be in charge of things, and there are few enough occupations where a woman might lead rather than be led. Perhaps that is true, even. But it is not my only reason.” She reached out a hand and touched his shoulder. “You and Sarah are so very happy, are you not?”
“She’s the best thing in my life, and I can only pray I am the same for her.”
“Indeed. Love’s a wondrous thing, and happiness is something everyone deserves. Including a reclusive ‘Dark Prince’.”
“If you say so.” He looked at the darkened house again, then at the lantern. “We’d best be going, if you want to get there and back before the night is gone.”
“Indeed.” Henrietta settled into her seat, and John shut the door. Moments later, there came a soft command, and the carriage rolled silently into the night.
* * *
The night was passing steadily, and he had made little progress. Daniel huffed and dragged his now-bedraggled shirt sleeve over his brow.
He’d removed much of the excess marble, leaving something that might pass for a human silhouette, if one were tired enough. But he was no closer to envisioning the details of the form than he had been when he started. He was contemplating seeking his bed in hopes that morning would give him further inspiration, when a quiet knock interrupted his musing. He was almost grateful for the respite as he crossed to the door and tugged it open.
He was rather surprised to see Danvers, wearing an expression of carefully controlled exasperation. “What is it?”
“I’m afraid, my lord, that you have another visitor.” The butler’s voice was calm and controlled, but he could sense its masked irritation.
“Another...? Oh, for the love of England! Another ‘lost young lady’? At this hour?” He ran his hand through his hair, smoothing it down as he stretched his fingers.
“Indeed. She seems to be somewhat bolder than your usual callers.”
“Bolder indeed. I’ve half a mind to leave her on the doorstep or send her to make her own way home in the dark, if she’s so keen. No, don’t.” He waved a hand to stop Danvers from leaving. “I’ll take care of her. I would appreciate if you brought me some warm milk and perhaps a bit of tea for her. I’ll take her to the front receiving room.” He sighed. “Hopefully, this will not take too long.”
“As you say, my lord.” Danvers offered a brief bow, then vanished down the hall.
Daniel scrubbed a hand through his hair, suppressing a groan of frustration. He had little patience for the games of polite society at the best of times, and certainly no patience at all when they insisted on intruding in his life in the most discourteous of ways.
He gave a brief thought to cleaning up, then dismissed it. If the young lady wished to call at an hour when most sensible folk were abed, then she had no room to protest his attire or his appearance. With any luck, the sight of him in shirt sleeves and covered in patches of marble dust would be sufficient to send her on her way without recourse to any further measures on his part.
He took a little extra time, smoothing the irritation from his expression as he arrived at the door. Once he thought he was sufficiently composed, he pulled the heavy oaken panel open…
And stopped, utterly dumbfounded.
The woman in front of him—and she was most certainly a woman—was the loveliest representative of that fairer sex that he’d ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on. Her gown was a muted sage green color, relatively simple in style and cut, but it flattered her slim height—she almost matched him on that score—and showed the curves of her hips and the shape of her well-endowed bosom far better than the richest and most stunning ball gown could do. Dark chestnut hair tumbled over her shoulders in an elegant style, reminiscent of Greek artworks he had seen while he was abroad, or the classical designs that he had been introduced to as part of his education. Her face was a pleasing, softly rounded oval, peaches-and-cream skin and sparkling blue eyes, with a small straight nose and full rosebud lips.
A discreet cough from behind him jerked him from his stupor, and he flushed. “I beg your pardon, my lady. I am the Marquess of Salisbury.”
“Good evening to you, Lord Salisbury. My name is Hetty Smith.”
“Well, please, do come in, Miss Smith.” He stepped aside to allow her into the hall. Danvers offered a silent hand to take her traveling cloak, which she relinquished readily enough. Once the butler had glided away, she turned to him.
“I do apologize for disturbing you at this late hour, my lord—”
“It is no matter.” He gestured. “If you would come with me, we can make ourselves comfortable while we talk.
“As you wish, my lord.”
He was glad to be in front of her as they made their way to the receiving room, as it gave him time to regain some of his composure.
How very typical… I ask for inspiration to knock upon my door—and promptly play the fool by staring and blushing like a boy half my age!
Only a moment ago, he’d been more than ready to send her packing, rather than resign himself to endure her presence and her, no doubt, clumsy attempts to deceive and entrap him. Now he thought he might welcome such attempts, if only she would remain present long enough for him to carve the delicacy of her features into marble, to remain for all time.
Danvers had seen to it that a small fire was laid and wanted only a bit of prodding to flare cheerfully in the hearth. He saw to that, then to making the lady comfortable, and by the time he was seated himself, Danvers had returned with the requested beverages.
He was beginning to wish he’d asked for a glass of scotch rather than warm milk. With some effort, he focused his attention on his guest. “Would you care for some tea?”
