Edith Layton by The Choice Page B

could do without scandal. He said it helped firm their arrangement in everyone’s eyes. Then he drove her back. They laughed, talked, and measured each other so much that by the time they returned to the Sinclairs’ townhouse, they were both pleased with the progress they’d made convincing everyone they were lovers reunited.
    “The opera tonight, then,” Damon said as he left her.
    “Tonight,” Gilly said happily.
    “We’ll have a wonderful time,” he promised. He gazed at her for one long last time and nodded, looking smug. He wasn’t just thinking about their appointment. He tipped his hat, and drove off, humming to himself.
    Gilly watched Damon and his carriage go round the corner and was surprised to discover herself regretting it.
     
    “You know, it does feel as though I’ve known him for a long time,” she confided to the viscountess a short while later. “I suppose it’s because he’s so good with people. He is, you know. That’s how he made his fortune.”
    “And will make yours!” Bridget, Viscountess Sinclair, said gleefully. They sat in her bedchamber as she fed her infant daughter. She refused a wetnurse for the baby. She hired a nurse for her and a nanny for her son so she wouldn’t scandalize her husband’s friends, but preferred to pass her time with the children herself. Lady Sinclair was a noblewoman, but she didn’t behave like one in private. That was only one of the reasons her elegant husband adored her even more than he had when they’d wed.
    “Make my fortune? Not hardly!” Gilly yipped as she plopped down full-length on the bed. She leaned on her elbows and grinned at the baby. “He’s above my touch, my lady, and we both know it.”
    “He has no title,” the viscountess said.
    “What’s in a name?” Gilly asked saucily. “He’s handsome as he can hold together, smart and very, very rich. He can have anyone in London. He’s nice, too. Imagine! Risking marriage with a stranger just to save her good name.”
    “But knowing you—and knowing you two spoke together alone before he did make that offer—I think he knew it wasn’t much of a risk. We’re not pushing you, Gilly,” Bridget said seriously, shifting the baby away from her breast, putting her up on her shoulder, and patting her back. “You know that. But you did sayyou might like to marry one day. That’s why we thought this trip would be good for you. And so it was. Who could be better for you than a fellow like Ryder? Clever, and so handsome. You know Ewen has my heart entirely, but even I looked at him twice.”
    Gilly reached out and gently stroked the silken fuzz on the baby’s head. “Marry?” she said softly. “Aye, so I will, I think. So I must if only so I can get one of these…. But Damon Ryder? Please. He deserves much more, and he’ll come to know it in time. I wouldn’t want to be Mistress Ryder when he does. No,” she said, flopping back on the bed, staring up at the ornate ceiling, “Mr. Matthew Harding or Mr. Fleming. They’re more in my style.”
    Now it was the viscountess’s turn to yip. “ Harding ? But he’s twice your age! A widower, and only a gentleman farmer.”
    “But a proven breeder,” Gilly said mischievously. “He’s already got three kiddies, hasn’t he? And a neat little farm at that.”
    “And Fleming!” the other woman said heatedly, patting the baby’s back with a fluttering hand. “Yes, he’s got a nice house and a snug living, but he’s bookish and a bore and still his mama’s pet, for all he’s a grown man. And a vicar? For you , Gilly?”
    “For me. Because he needs a wife. As does Harding,” Gilly said softly, “and neither will ask much of me.”
    “Gilly, you want a husband who asks much of you. And you need much more of him than a roof over your head and a baby at your breast.”
    “No, I don’t, my lady. The truth is I do not.”
    The viscountess’s lovely face grew sad. She rubbedher cheek against her baby’s downy head.