He looked at his post, forcing himself to turn his attention. Because his mind was busily listing all the reasons it could not be her, and he didn’t want to hear them.
LILAWASNOTabove eavesdropping, particularly when the opportunity fell into her lap. What was she supposed to do? The door was open, she’d heard them talking, and she’d heard them laughing.Laughing.She’d never heard that dour, unhappy man laugh. He’d sounded like a completely different person, and of course her interest had been piqued.
So she’d paused, had leaned against the wall, and she’d listened. Her husband, Valentin, would tell her she was being rude. She certainly was being rude. But she was also trying to divine her way out of a terrible problem. It was becoming increasingly clear that Lord Abbott was in love with Miss Woodchurch. He wanted the woman who could offer nothing but her love and affection. Lila was all for that sort of match, but Elizabeth, well...she would not be happy.
It was a terribly difficult problem and one that required finesse to solve. But that’s what Lila loved about her services. She relished the challenge of turning things around for the viscount. He needed love, and he needed to laugh. Miss Woodchurch needed a safe harbor in this world. Those two were perfect for each other and she was giddy with the prospect of making it happen.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
THEINVITATIONTOthe Abbott ball came while the Woodchurches were at their lunch—the twins, Daniel, Hattie, her parents, and an assortment of cats, all gathered in the dining room.
Her father, having eaten his meal before everyone was served, was picking his teeth with a knife as he squinted at each letter in his post. Hattie was trying to force down a bite or two of mutton. They’d lost another cook this week, the third this year. Imagine, a woman who refused to make large meals while surrounded by dress forms, loud clocks, and cats.
Her father paused his teeth picking and squinted at one of the envelopes, then dropped the knife and held the envelope overhead. “Take a look at what we have here, lads,” he said loudly, gaining the attention of all.
“What?” asked Peter.
“An invitation for Miss Harriet Woodchurch, that’s what.”
Hattie certainly hoped it wasn’t for another garden party.
“What’s it for?” her father asked her, waving the thing at her across the table.
“I don’t know, Papa. I’ve not seen the invitation.”
“You don’tknow,” he mimicked. He lowered the envelope, picked up the knife he’d used to pick his teeth, and opened it.
“Papa! That’s addressed to me!” she protested.
He ignored her and read the card.“Fancy,”he sneered, then tossed the card in her direction. It skidded across the table and landed with one corner in the gravy. Perry grabbed it before anyone moved and licked the gravy from the envelope.
“Disgusting!” Peter cried, and then howled with laughter.
“Give it to me, Perry,” Hattie insisted.
“It’s a ball,” her father said, settling back in his chair. “Your fancy viscount is hosting a bloodyball.”
She’d heard some rumblings about a ball but had no idea when it was planned or who was invited. She certainly didn’t expect to be. She grabbed Perry’s wrist and squeezed. He cried out as if he was in pain, but then dropped the invitation on her plate, on top of her uneaten mutton.
“Mama!” Hattie exclaimed. “Can’t you do something?”
“They’re boys, Harriet,” she said, and bent down to pick up a cat.
Dear God, this family.How much more could she endure?
“It’s obscene that all of London is so eager to meet this man,” Daniel said. “What’s so bloody special about him, really?”
“Please,” Hattie’s mother said, and for a moment, she thought her mother meant to help her. But no. “It’s his money, quite obviously.”
“We have money and they aren’t lining up to meet us,” Daniel pointed out.
“What do you mean?” her father said to his oldest son. “Youhaven’t got any money.”
Daniel ignored him and looked at Hattie. “I heard he’s unbearably rude.”
An interesting criticism from someone who was, in fact, unbearably rude. Her first instinct was to defend Teo, but she knew what her brother was doing. He wanted to rile her, to put her back on her heels.
“Isn’t that so, Hat?” Daniel pushed. “Aloof and superior and disdainful to us poor, simple Englishmen.”
