“Well, this isn’t complicated. I’m going to throw small evening parties to introduce Lilah to eligible gentlemen. Then, when she’s narrowed her choices down to a few select possibilities, I’ll invite them to your ball. She can make her final choice there.”
“My ball is not supposed to be a matchmaking affair. Clara—”
“All balls are matchmaking affairs. Even I know that.” She patted his hand. “Don’t worry. I have it all under control. Now go take your bath. You smell like you’ve been on a horse all day.”
“I have been on a horse all day.”
“Exactly.”
He could see that she wouldn’t hear reason tonight, so he stood up and headed toward the door. “This isn’t over yet, Clara. We’ll talk at breakfast tomorrow. I have some—”
“We can’t,” she interrupted. “The cook quit.”
“What?”
She waved a hand in dismissal. “Said she wouldn’t be in a house that had a séance. Called it ungodly and some other nonsense.”
He rubbed a hand over his face. “She’s the third cook to quit like that. We need—”
“The fourth will be better. I’m sure of it. Anyway, you should break your fast at your club tomorrow. Goodnight!” She grabbed her book and immediately focused her entire attention on that.
Aaron didn’t leave. He stood in the door to her sitting room and pondered his options. He had no threat to use against her. She knew he wouldn’t beat her, keep her from food, or even send her back home to fight with their mother. He had tried several times to declare how things would be in his home, but whenever he became autocratic, the results had been disastrous. She became wilder with her declarations and her friends, went out of her way to destroy his peace, and even risked her life by sneaking out of their home to wander London at night on one pretext or another.
In the end, he landed on the only option that worked with her.
“I love you Clara, and I mean to do whatever I can to ensure your happiness.”
She lifted her head, tilting it to one side as she looked at him.
“But,” he continued, “you must see that I cannot live like this any longer. The servants are in chaos, you paid someone to throw knives in the dining room—”
“That was just one time,” she began.
“The house smells of smoke, and that was just tonight.” He paused as she looked down at her hands. “If we are to live with each other, then we must live in some kind of harmony.”
“But that’s just the thing,” she said softly. “You want me to marry and harry off to Scotland.” When she looked up, her eyes were bright with unshed tears. “I don’t want to leave London. I like it here.”
Was that the base of this latest wildness? That she didn’t want to leave London? “You know I would never force you to marry anyone you didn’t want.”
“You know that I am trying my hardest with the servants. I don’t know why they aren’t working as they ought.”
He took a step forward. “Miss Rees is a genius with servants. Will you ask her for help? I am sure she will give it. And then we can start to set this household to rights.”
Clara bit her lip, her expression thoughtful. Eventually, she nodded. “I will ask her. I promise. And in return for her generosity, I shall introduce her to every worthy man I can.” She beamed up at him. “You’ll see. It will all work out just as it ought.”
Chapter Eight
Lilah dreamt ofmidnight kisses and lingering caresses. She woke flustered and achy. It didn’t delay her morning tasks—reviewing the bills, planning the week’s meals, and disciplining a lazy footman—but it did make the morning difficult for her. Especially since she wanted to stare out a window and dream about him. Lord Kittrel.
A restlessness claimed her. When Clara’s note arrived inviting her over for a comfortable chat, she knew she would push through her chores in order to visit her friend as soon as possible. But first, she needed to ask her adoptive mother the one question that had been on her mind since the first day she entered this home. She hadn’t been brave enough before. As a child, she couldn’t risk an answer that would send her back to a dubious life in an acting troupe. As an adult, she hadn’t thought it mattered even though a tiny part of her mind was always devoted to the question.
Today she cared enough to risk it all. Today she brought Lady Rees her hot chocolate and remained in the room to talk.
“Good morning, Mama,” she said sweetly.
On the first day that she’d arrived in this house, Lord Rees had insisted that she call him Papa and Lady Rees, Mama. The woman had never disagreed with her husband’s pronouncement, had responded when Lilah used the word, but every once in a while—especially when she was young—the lady would pinch her lips together at the word.
She did so now, and Lilah started to duck her head. It was what she always did when she needed to control her emotions. But this morning she was in an unsettled mood. She wanted answers. She needed to know whether the life she lived now was worth preserving.