Page 9 of The Viscount's Daring Cinderella
She canted her head to the side and gazed at him beneath her lashes for several beats. “I am sorry for your losses, my lord.”
Although she did not know him, there was compassion in her voice. He did not mistake it. It warmed him all over.
“Permit me to ask about your mother, Lady Beryl.”
The light in her eyes faded. “My mother died when I was very young. I do not remember her,” she said wistfully, looking out toward the lake.
She had lost so much for someone so young. Theodore sensed her forlornness deeply, understanding in that moment it might have been her loneliness that prevented her from asking him to leave. She was likely speaking to him because she wanted to feel connected. Perhaps she had not fully adjusted to living with her cousins.
“Were you close to your father?” Theodore asked, hoping that conversation would help her ease some of her sorrows. He owed this lady nothing, but Theodore recalled having no one to speak to about his brother’s passing. The hollowness inside had grown until he felt … empty.
The corners of her mouth lifted in a small smile. “I was. Papa was quite attentive, protective, and affectionate. I am grateful for the time I had with him. What about you, my lord?”
Theodore picked up a stone and skipped it over the lake surface. “My brother was the same, protective and loving. When we were younger, I was a bit jealous of him.”
“Jealous!”
A wry smile curved his mouth. “William was the favorite, or so I believed. He was the heir and I was the spare. He was to inherit the estate, and he was groomed for it. Then, William got married and had two beautiful daughters. When he passed away, I was charged with caring for them.”
“You miss him; I can hear it in your voice.”
“Dreadfully,” he said gruffly. “I think about him every day.” Theodore’s heart lurched, and a sense of bemusement filled him. Why was he sharing such intimate details with her? She was not in his inner circle. Theodore had no immediate answer. Strangely, it was easy to converse with her, almost as if he had known her all his life.
How remarkable.
She turned toward him, and when their gazes locked, frozen in an intimate moment, she quickly looked back at the lake. Her lashes fanned her cheeks, and he thought how alluring they were. He ran his hand through his hair.
Bloody hell. He must stop staring at her so intently lest he frighten her away.
“How old are the children?” she asked, breaking the spell.
Theodore skipped another stone on the water. “Five and seven. Louise recently lost her front tooth, and Mattie follows her big sister everywhere she goes. They remind me of William and I when we were that age.”
He felt a thickness in his throat that his brother did not live to see these milestones. He missed William, but he supposed the intense longing would lessen over time. Did they not say that time is the healer of all necessary evils?
“They sound adorable.” She sighed softly. “I did not have any siblings, and when I was younger, I wished I did. As I got older, with no brother or sister in sight, I embraced the solitude. Fortunately, you have support in caring for them.”
“Support?” Theodore asked.
“Your wife,” Lady Beryl replied.
Theodore flashed her a charming smile. “I am not married, Lady Beryl.”
Her delicate lips formed an “O,” and he could not tear his gaze away from their lush fullness. He wondered what it would be like to taste those lips. He wanted to. Badly.
She was gazing at him, staring at his lips before quickly looking away.
“Will I see you at the lake every day?” he asked. Something unknown inside of Theodore warned him that he would visit daily just to see her.
Lady Beryl’s cheeks flushed, and she stared at him with slightly widened eyes. “I will be going to London this season.”
He stilled. “You are entering the marriage mart?”
A wary look entered her eyes. “My role is to act as a chaperone for my cousin, who will have her debut.”
He carefully observed the nuance of her expression. “Will this be your first foray into society?”
“Though I greatly anticipated having a season, I did not have one because I did not want to leave my father when he was ill.”
