He shot her a glance. “I had forgotten.”
“I had, too, until I smelled them.”
He chuckled. “I’ll guide you up to the house, and then head for the kitchens.”
“Do not bother yourself on my behalf, my lord. I’ll finish my walk with Molly and see you at luncheon.”
Robert watched in amazement as she turned back the way they’d just come and approached Molly. The servant murmured something, and they both took a right hand turn down another path that disappeared behind a vine-covered arbor.
Robert stood still, considering his dilemma. There was no doubt that he had to help Mrs. Blake, but after the close way her family watched her, he was beginning to think her suggestion that he simply escort her away wasn’t going to work.
After luncheon,Robert accompanied the rest of the gentlemen for target shooting out on the lawn, which he won. Dinner ended up being a more elaborate affair, with neighbors as guests, followed by card games in the drawing room. He rather suspected he was being put on display by Miss Collins, who’d thrown the event together and sent footmen scurrying all over the countryside with invitations that morning. Robert was no longer surprised when only a few of the guests knew Mrs. Blake personally, although most had heard of her.
Since card games could not appeal to Mrs. Blake, she sat in a corner with an elderly woman, who kept up so much chatter that every time Robert looked their way, Mrs. Blake, though nodding politely, was never given the chance to speak.
Robert didn’t need any more convincing. It was time to talk to Lord Collins. Would the baron allow him to simply whisk away his daughter? No. But Robert had another idea …
When the last guest from the village had gone, Miss Collins retired and Mr. Collins led his friends upstairs. Robert stopped their father in the entrance hall.
“Lord Collins, might we speak privately?” he asked.
Mrs. Blake was just entering the hall from the back corridor. Her eyes narrowed as he spoke. There was no way to send her a reassuring smile. Realizing he was staring a bit too long, he turned and found Lord Collins frowning at him.
“We can speak in my study,” Collins said, leading him across the hall to another door.
His study was lined with books and deep leather chairs, and the occasional masculine knickknacks of rocks, animal skulls, and a mounted deer. Collins indicated a chair for Robert, then went around and sat behind the desk, as if he needed a barrier against whatever Robert had to say.
But his expression was neutral enough as he asked, “Is something amiss, Knightsbridge?”
Robert was so used to making a decision and then the necessary physical preparations, it had never occurred to him to prepare a speech. He would definitely need to brush up on that before Parliament opened after Christmas.
“Collins, I came here with the intention of offering my sympathy to your daughter. I had heard a bit about her from Blake?—”
“You can’t trust a word that scoundrel ever said,” Collins said, frowning. “He abandoned my daughter.”
“He did, though I didn’t know it. He spoke of her letters as giving him comfort, and in some ways, I think he was surprised by that.”
The other man said nothing, only steepled his fingers together beneath his chin.
“I’ve spent two days in Mrs. Blake’s company, and I’ve seen her courage, wit, and intelligence. I cannot express enough my admiration.”
“What are you saying?” Collins demanded.
“I wanted to inform you that I will be asking for Mrs. Blake’s hand in marriage tomorrow.”
To his surprise, Collins began to chuckle, but it slowly died away as Robert didn’t smile in return.
“You are serious,” Collins said in a flat voice.
“I am.”
“You have an earldom to lure any young woman. You’ve only just returned to England. And you want to choose the first woman you’ve spent time with—ablindwoman?”
“I returned two weeks ago,” Robert amended. “I met several debutantes in London, but most are in the country, I know. Your daughter is the first woman to fascinate me, and frankly, after nine years in the army, I’ve learned to trust my instincts.”
“Her dowry went to Blake,” Collins said smugly, crossing his arms over his chest. “But Blythe has a fine dowry.”
Robert ignored the mention of the other daughter. “Mrs. Blake told me how her husband took her money and betrayed her. I would never do that. I’ve resigned my commission. I have no need of her dowry. Surely you know that the Knightsbridge estates have been well cared for. But, sir, it is your daughter’s kindness and patience I value, not money. Her acceptance of her limitations, and the courage she shows every single day. The London debutantes want me for all the wrong reasons, my title and wealth. A mature woman like Mrs. Blake would best understand the moods of an ex-soldier.”
