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“Impossible,” Grand asserted, but the idea caused his heart to hitch higher. “She has no wish to find me on her threshold ever again.”
“May I tell you a tale, my Lord?” the man asked in earnest tones.
“If it is pertinent to your opinion,” Grand said grudgingly.
Everley smiled with satisfaction.
“There once was a young girl walking through Hyde Park on her father’s arm. Two young gentlemen doffed their hats to the girl, but the third, he stopped and offered her a bow and a greeting before he followed his friends along the path. The third young gentleman was you, my Lord, and the girl was my Colleen. From that day forward, she has combed every newsprint in London for the least mention of your name. She does not know that I am aware of her constancy, and, in truth, she would know great umbrage if she knew I had spoken of this with you. Yet, I warrant it is true. My daughter’s emotions where you are concerned are not the matter of a few minutes together. They date back to your days of being just Lord Grandison Franklyn — before your father’s passing. Unfortunately, Colleen does not believe herself worthy of your affection,” Everley contended. “Although she is a gentleman’s daughter, my sweet girl has always thought of herself as inferior to other young ladies. She believes that there is no future where she knows happiness and love.”
Against Grand’s will, the memory of the kiss he had shared with the lady easily resurfaced.
Whether he agreed with Everley’s pronouncement or the emotion rushing through his chest at this moment, he would admit, if only to himself, that the only time since he had assumed the helm of the Earldom when he had known true satisfaction was when he held Miss Everley in his embrace.
Could the lady love him as her father had described?
“Even if Miss Everley’s heart is engaged, I dare not respond,” he said with regret. “The whole of England would cry out against our joining. I hold a duty to my family. Whether we wish to acknowledge it or not, your reputation taints your daughter’s beyond redemption by me.”
Everley presented Grand a slow nod of his head.
“A fact of which I am keenly aware.” They sat in silence for several minutes, each lost in his own thoughts of what might have been. At length, the man continued, “It takes a special woman to know the courage of her convictions, to place aside her future for the man who holds her heart. Colleen’s mother did that for me, and I foolishly squandered away her trust, thinking I knew what was best for both of us. I beg you, my Lord: Do not make the same mistakes as I did. Claim Colleen while you can. It would be the wisest decision you have ever made.”
“You make such a life-changing decision sound easy,” Grand argued.
“You are mistaken, sir, if that is what you heard. Yours, like mine, will be the decision that makes or breaks your soul. It will last a lifetime. You have your choices: You may remain ‘Grandison the Great’. You may go about your days as an agent for Liverpool, spending time with the most beautiful women of the demi monde, and settling for an insipid and bland Countess who you can barely tolerate long enough to do your duty to her and the Earldom or you could—”
“Or I could follow my—”
“Your heart.” Everley finished the thought for Grand. The man stood slowly, slipping the gun he carried into his pocket. “Count to twenty before you attempt to follow me, if that is your wish. Per our agreement, I will drop the bag with the necklace in it into the basket for calling cards beside the main door. It has been a pleasure doing business with you, my Lord.”
Chapter Ten
Colleen attempted to keep her despair from her countenance before those gathered at the Ever-Rising Home. Despite her Ladyship’s previous complaints, Lady McKnight and two of her Ladyship’s inner circle agreed to make a sizable donation to Colleen’s charity.
“Is it not wonderful, Miss Everley?” her assistant asked. “We may move into a larger building sooner than we expected. We can take in more women, perhaps even those not leaving houses of ill repute, but who have been abandoned by their families for turning up with child and still unmarried. For example, we might choose to shelter servants who have been turned out after being abused by their masters. They would not require additional training beyond schooling. These donations will allow us to do more than we ever thought possible. We could hire a new teacher!”
“Quite spectacular,” Colleen remarked, adding a smile to reassure her staff that she was pleased with the outcome.
At least, her night of ‘shame’ would benefit the women she sponsored. Mayhap, one day, a few of them would find a man who would overlook their past and love them simply for themselves.
Before she could provide her assurances or begin to become excited by the prospects, the door to her office swung wide, and the man who haunted her dreams walked through the portal. She did not know whether to run away or sigh deeply in satisfaction. Colleen did not think that her heart could survive another encounter with the gentleman, but it appeared that Lord Harlow had arrived on business. She stepped back, and her small staff scurried to leave the room. Lord Harlow stood before her, confident and assured, as was customary for ‘Grandison the Great’. And just as handsome as the Devil himself. Yet, as her eyes met his, it was the tenderness in his gaze when it met hers that undid her. She reached for the back of the chair for support, thinking her legs would no longer hold her upright.
“Miss Everley,” he said as he presented her a bow in greeting.
“My Lord,” she instinctively murmured, more from her schooling than from a conscious effort. “I thought we agreed that our relationship had come to an end.”
“If you recall, I argued against your suggestion,” he said with a sly smile.
He approached her with nonchalance, while Colleen took another half step backward as he closed the distance between them.
“Why are you here, my Lord?”
“You forbid me entrance to your house,” he reasoned. “I had no choice but to follow you here.”
His steady gaze moved over her features, lingering a moment on her lips, sending a shiver of anticipation down Colleen’s spine.
“Must I also forbid you approaching me at my work or my church?” she demanded, but, even to her, her objection sounded weak.
“Speaking of church,” he said with that peculiar exactness he had in addressing her.
