Page 4 of Her Sort of Scoundrel
He’d have to find a way.
“I’ll think on it, Aurelia. I’ll…” He bit his lip, terrified of promising too much but also of disappointing her. “I’ll do my best.”
Her youthful features bloomed into happiness then. She smiled and clapped her hands together and bounced on her toes.
“Thank you.” She seemed to realize her actions weren’t strictly ladylike and gave him a little bow. “Thank you. I will go up and fetch my cloak for our walk.” Then, after one last glance at the spot where their conservatory nearly touched Fiona’s, she dashed out of the room.
“Well done, my lord, if I may say as much.” Mrs. Hardy lingered near the threshold.
“I’m glad you approve,” Dash said to her sincerely, then glanced at her over his shoulder.
She nodded and followed Aurelia out of the conservatory.
Dash lingered there. Still close enough to the doorway to be out of sight of the ladies next door, but close enough to hear snippets of their conversation.
If he wasn’t mistaken—
It sounded very much like they were conversing about the best tactics for finding paramours.
What the hell kind of gathering was Fiona hosting?
Then again, was that any of his business at this point? His dilemma was finding a way to mend the hurt he’d caused.
Pivoting on his heel, Dash started back toward the hallway, eager for the walk with Aurelia to clear his mind and allow him to devise some sort of plan for—
He heard his name. Freezing in place, he cocked his head, stilled his breath.
“He’d sleep with anyone…” one lady said in an overloud voice.
Dash thought he’d heard another say more quietly “I’d volunteer” which was followed by another round of hearty laughter.
They were no longer friends, he and Fiona, but he would still never allow others to speak of her in such a way in his presence. But he heard no defense from her if she offered one. And, of course, he didn’t deserve one.
He’d earned his reputation, and it wasn’t her place to defend him.
Finally, he heard her voice. He stepped forward, straining to hear every word.
“Ladies, I do not think Lord Granford is worth our time or consideration…”
The words hit him like a blow and stole the air from Dash’s lungs. He didn’t give a damn about any other lady’s opinion of him. Just one.
And she didn’t think him worth her time.
It was the fear he’d had as a green lad, encountering a breath-stealing golden goddess for the first time. Yearning for her attention and terrified that he’d never be worthy of it. Of her.
He took a step forward without thought, his boots slamming on the marble floor, seemingly of their own volition, as he headed out of his conservatory and into hers.
CHAPTER2
“This has been wonderful.”Lady Fiona Prescott lifted her teacup in a toast. “I hereby declare the close of our inaugural meeting. May it mark the beginning of new friendships, daring ventures, and mutual encouragement for us all.”
Looking across the sunlit of expanse of her conservatory, Fiona took in the gathering of half a dozen women who had enthusiastically agreed to join her ladies’ club for widows and smiled.
Six was an excellent start, though her aspirations were grand, of course. One day, she hoped they’d swell their enlistment numbers to dozens of ladies. Eventually, she imagined them securing a building where they could hold meetings and perhaps offer various classes or recreational activities.
Widowhood could be so lonely, especially when one was only a few years into a marriage that was expected to last a lifetime.
“And please feel free to put forward any candidates for membership that you may know,” Fiona added.
