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Ignoring her, he turned to his mother. “I understand my new responsibilities; and, even though they were not mine a few months ago, the care of so many properties, staff and tenants have been entrusted to me. I will do my duty well.”
By God, a miraculous sound of approval came from the harridan.
“If I need a wife as the head of the household to set the proper path for my siblings, I will marry. I will, however, choose my own wife.”
“Absolutely not!” the harridan barked.
“As I will be the person speaking to the woman and taking her to my bed, I assure—”
“How unspeakably vulgar. A gentleman does not speak so frankly in the presence of ladies.
Bloody hell. “Forgive me, madam,” he said, noting the blush on his mother’s face. “A wife is someone with whom I will spend the rest of my life. The decision on who that lady is will be mine alone.”
“And with my approval,” the old dragon said, advancing on him with narrowed eyes.
“Certainly I will present her to you before I make an offer,” he said in an effort to compromise. “I am, however, not ready for that wife as yet. As I understand your criticisms, Lady Celdon, I need to be polished. Is that not so?”
She eyed him critically, as if trying to determine if he was pulling the wool over her eyes. “Yes, you are very rough around the edges.”
“Very well. It is agreed then. I will hire a tutor to come in and share with me and my sisters and brothers the finer points on how to gain our social veneer. Once our transformation meets your approval, madam, then we will go about finding our matches.”
He didn’t dare point out to her that some of his siblings, and even himself, would not take kindly to the idea of marrying so soon. In fact, he believed they would very much resent being tutored and shaped into what the dowager countess insisted upon. The transformation of his family into pictures of propriety might take months, if it could be achieved, and he had some doubts over that occurring. They had never had to live with this level of scrutiny and restraint before, and he could predict the difficulties ahead.
“As for your mistress, this actress—” the countess began scathingly.
“Will be my concern only,” he said smoothly. “While having a follower in the country might inspire a gaggle of gossips, I was relieved to hear it is even expected of a man of my quality.”
His mother flushed; and, while the harridan looked fit to argue, she pressed her lips into a flat line and nodded once. Colin dipped into a charming bow. “If you ladies will excuse me, I have to find this paragon who will help this no-good-dissolute family.” With that, he took his leave, able to feel the countess’s stare against his shoulder blades burning and biting like ants crawling over his skin.
This season was looking to be a long and frustrating one. However, he reminded himself of the motto he had adopted when his father had died five years ago. Stalking toward his library, he faltered as Lily barreled down the hallway, chortling as she ran from her mama. Her little legs pumped, and her midnight black curls slapped her cherub cheeks.
“Unc!” she cried, her dark green eyes bright with joy. Lily lifted her hands up without slowing her run.
Colin stopped and swept her into his arms, emotions clutching his throat when she snuggled her face into the crook of his neck. If he was not careful, this sweet child, who was the total joy of his family, might be branded as a bastard, and possibly cut from this society.
“You’ve caught her,” Fanny said breathlessly, her bright blue eyes, so much like his own, sparkling. “I cannot imagine how a two-year-old can outrun me. It is outrageous!”
When her mama reached for Lily, she muttered her new favorite word.
“No, ‘tay with unc.”
Fanny smiled. “Your uncle is busy and has work to do, and it is time for your nap.”
He kissed Lily’s cheek and another sweet chortle left her. “I am never too busy for my best lady. She can spend the day with me in the library.”
Lily snuggled into his cheek and bestowed several slightly sticky and moist kisses there, while tickling his neck. She still had that sweet baby smell, and he melted at her innocent adoration of her eldest uncle. He looked at his sister. Her rumpled, fashionable blue frock picked out the stunning color of the family eyes. They were eyes that were far too knowing for a young girl of her years, and yet they revealed both amusement and sorrow in their depths. Some of her pale blonde curls had escaped from her maid’s attempt to restrain them.
Racing after a toddler who had decided to be as fleet as a deer probably did not assist in maintaining proper decorum; he wondered if perhaps a children’s maid should be employed to help with controlling his beloved niece before she also turned into a scandalous hellion. He had to admit, however, that his sister outshone most of the flamboyant ladybirds whose charms were available in London’s demi-monde. The truth was that Fanny, or more correctly Frances, was far too lovely for her own good. Men, and not all of them decent gentlemen, would pursue such a beauty avidly; and, regrettably, most of them would not consider offering her marriage.
Fanny hesitated. “She will be a distraction.”
“A loving one. Take the day off and relax, sister.”
Her blonde curls bounced on her cheek as she nodded her head. “I believe I shall visit the circulating library. I have not read a decent novel in a while.”
Rising onto her toes, she kissed her daughter’s forehead before turning away.
“Fanny,” Colin said softly.
