“I should like that above all things.”
They set off, but herein she faced her usual problem. She had no idea what to say to entice a gentleman in the space of five minutes. Commenting on the displays seemed mundane, asking about his horses or dogs ended up with boring discussions of animal breeds, and no other topics popped into her head. Fortunately, he saved her in that regard only to land her into another quandary.
“Are you enjoying the evening?”
To lie or not to lie? She opted for the truth. “Not so far, though I am hopeful for the rest of the night.”
“Has the entertainment been so poor?” There was shock in his tone.
“I’m sure the entertainment has been exceptional for most people, my lord, but I am a lady on the hunt for a husband. All events no matter how grand are judged upon that measure alone.”
“Ah,” he said as he dipped his chin. “None worthy of your hand?”
“None looking for a hand.”
He nodded. “A masquerade is not the usual place for such things. You’d have better luck at Almack’s.”
She might if she were allowed in, but a by-blow would never cross that august threshold. “Could it be that you don’t know who I am?”
“It’s a masquerade. I’m not supposed to know.” His gaze lingered on her face, clearly trying to imagine what lay beneath her mask.
He really didn’t know her, and that sent a thrill of delight down her spine. He was an eligible bachelor, and he wasn’t dismissing her out of hand merely because of the conditions of her birth. “I shall not enlighten you until the unmasking.”
“Perhaps I should try to guess.”
“Perhaps we should discuss by what measure you judge this party.”
“Me?” he said with a chuckle. “I’m afraid I’m not hunting for a wife.”
“A pity.”
“I was hunting for votes for my resolution.”
“Were you successful?”
“Not in the least. The gentleman who needed persuading refused to listen. I’m afraid I lack the necessary oratory skills.”
She doubted that. “Perhaps the fault lies in the nature of the resolution. What is it exactly?”
“I want the country to spend money on our veterans. Too many are damaged in mind and in body from the war. We barely patch them up and then send them off to live as best they can, and it’s not a good life. Not a good one at all.” He frowned as his gaze grew distant. “These are England’s sons, and we ignore their suffering as if their service meant nothing.”
“I am persuaded,” she said. “Your oratory skills lack for nothing.”
He flashed her a genuine smile. “If only my compatriots were so easy, but I’m afraid finding the money for the things I plan is not easy. The country is tired of taxes for the war. Now that it’s over, they don’t want to keep spending.”
“What persuaded you?”
“Have you not seen the beggars, the thieves, and the damaged souls throughout London?” He squeezed her hand where she held his forearm. “Forgive me, of course you haven’t. You’re a gently reared lady.”
“On the contrary, I’ve seen them, but so have your compatriots. What has brought this so forcefully to your attention?”
He didn’t look like he would answer. His face tightened and he looked unhappy, but in the end he spoke. Though his tone was casual, she knew from his earlier expression that it was nothing of the sort for him.
“Several tenants from my family seat had a son go to war. One had two sons enlist. These are boys I played with as a child, now grown into men. They returned broken and bitter, if they came back at all. I grew up with them and now…” He shook his head. “They are shells of the men I remember. They need help, and they will not take it from me.”
“If they will not take it from you, then why do you think they will take it from the government?”
His shoulder hitched. “Because theyneedit. Because their families might starve without it. Because if everyone receives it as their due for fighting, then it is not charity. It is their just deserts.”