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With a wave of her hand and a roll of her eyes, Bea said. “You’ll change your tune someday. Mark my words.”
“God forbid,” he muttered.
Unfortunately, Bea had exceptional hearing. “Why in the world are you so opposed to love? Is that why you’re dragging your feet with Honoria? Is it because you’re afraid you’ll fall in love with her?”
Not a chance.“Nonsense. The clinic keeps me busy. Which speaking of, I need to speak with Ashton.” Timothy would thank him later for his timely rescue.
Unfortunately, the duke’s furrowed brow created a wave of turmoil in Timothy’s chest as he approached. Timothy prepared himself as Harry reached his side. “Is something wrong, Your Grace?”
“Do you recall our conversation the other day in the clinic regarding Miss Pratt?”
What?“Of course.”
Harry pointed his chin toward the garden. “It would seem she’s not as keen on repairing her reputation as you had believed. Walking unchaperoned with Nash Talbot will do little to aid in her efforts.” Harry paused as if only then noticing. “And what happened to your face?”
Timothy brushed it aside. “Bea’s cat.” More pressing was Harry’s first observation. Priscilla strolled in the garden by Nash’s side, both apparently deep in conversation. As if sensing him watching, Priscilla lifted her gaze in his direction, then glanced away. Nash wasn’t as discreet. He met him stare for stare, and as it had been with Catpurrnicus, Timothy was the first to back down.
Damnation!What was she thinking?
“Your Grace, forgive me for interrupting,” a feminine voice broke Timothy’s train of thought.
Honoria performed a perfect curtsy before the duke. How could Timothy have spent five months in her presence and still not recognize her voice without looking? Certain he could pick out Priscilla’s laugh and speech from a large crowd, he cringed with shame.
Honoria deserved better than the likes of him.
Harry smiled warmly at Honoria, and Timothy couldn’t help but notice the difference in reception she received compared to Harry’s reaction when Priscilla arrived at the clinic. “Think nothing of it. I was just leaving to find my wife. Marbry, I urge you to think about what we’ve discussed.”
He turned to walk away, calling over his shoulder, “And ask Beatrix if she has some chlorinated lime to wash that wound.”
Before Honoria could ask the obvious, Timothy answered, “Bea’s cat.”
“Truly? I encountered the little sweetling in the hallway when I went inside to the lady’s retiring room. What ever could have provoked it to inflict such damage?”
Was everyone on that demon cat’s side? Irritation roiled, and without realizing, he lashed out. “What is so urgent you had to interrupt?” He wanted to reel the words back in before they found their mark, but it was too late.
Honoria blanched, her eyes blinking rapidly.
He was an arse. More than that, a horse’s arse. No, an elephant. “I apologize. That was uncalled for and most ungentlemanly. Everyone has been asking about my face, and that cat is not the sweet, cuddly creature everyone imagines.”
“Does it hurt?” Clearly, she meant to ease his burden of guilt, but the tremor in her voice indicated the pain he’d inflicted had not dissipated.
“No. Truly.” He softened his own tone. “Now, what did you wish to tell me?”
“Miss Pratt and Lord Nash. It seems our efforts may have been successful after all.” She dipped her bonnet in the garden’s direction, where Harry had already diverted his attention.
“Yes. I’ve seen. Ashton already pointed them out. Although he views the pairing differently than you do.”
“Oh.” Honoria’s mouth dipped at the corners, and unlike when something had saddened Priscilla, Timothy had no urge to kiss and cheer her. “Well, I suppose with their history . . .”
“He questions her sincerity about repairing her reputation with society, especially—all things considered—with Lord Nash.”
“I see his point. It was my concern when we began this endeavor. But if the ultimate purpose was to secure a husband, does it matter what society thinks?”
Now Timothy was the one nonplussed. Who was this woman before him? “I can’t believe my ears. Do you really believe that?”
She lifted a shoulder. “I suppose not. But wouldn’t it be wonderful if we didn’t have to worry about pleasing everyone else rather than ourselves?”
“Indeed.”
