Wicked Intentions (Maiden Lane #1)(64)

A movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention, and she saw Sir Henry making his way through the crowd. Oh, goodness! How awkward if he should see her. Temperance turned her head away and lifted her hand to her coiffure as if checking to see if her jeweled pins were still in place.

“Have you dropped something?” a feminine voice said nearby.

Temperance looked up, startled, and met Lady Hero’s wide gray eyes. She had taken the seat next to Temperance’s, and while the lady didn’t smile, her expression was quite pleasant.

Temperance realized she was staring and remembered that she’d been asked a question. “Oh. Oh, no, my lady.”

“Someone has told you who I am,” Lady Hero said.

“Yes.”

“Ah.” Lady Hero looked at her lap. “It was to be expected, I suppose.” She glanced up and caught Temperance’s eye, smiling a little crookedly. “I find people treat me differently when they know my name.”

“Oh.” Temperance wasn’t sure how exactly to respond to that, because, of course, Lady Hero was quite correct: A duke’s daughter was treated differently. “I am Temperance Dews.”

Lady Hero smiled more fully. “How do you do?” This close, Temperance could see a fine sprinkling of freckles across her nose. They only served to highlight Lady Hero’s smooth, white complexion.

Sir Henry chose that moment to walk past them. She met his embarrassed eyes before quickly looking away.

Lady Hero followed her gaze. “That man is a toad.”

“I beg your pardon?” Temperance blinked. Surely she hadn’t heard correctly. Did the daughters of dukes call gentlemen toads?

Apparently they did. Lady Hero nodded. “Sir Henry Easton, yes? He looks agreeable enough, I’ll grant you, but he has definite toad tendencies. I say”—her brows knit slightly—“he hasn’t done anything to you, has he?”

“No.” Temperance wrinkled her nose. “Well, yes. He tried to kiss me.”

Lady Hero winced. “Horrifying.”

“It was, really. And rather disappointing, too. You see, I thought he might be interested in my foundling home, but he wasn’t. I’m afraid it was rather foolish of me.”

“Ah,” Lady Hero said, sounding wise. “I don’t think you should blame yourself, you know. Toadlike gentlemen generally try to kiss ladies entirely unprovoked. Or at least that is what I have been led to believe. No gentleman has ever attempted to press his unwanted attentions upon me, of course. Duke’s daughter and all that.” Lady Hero sounded just a tad disappointed.

Temperance smiled. She would never have guessed that a duke’s daughter would be so delightful to talk to.

“But tell me about this foundling home,” Lady Hero said. “I’ve never met a lady who managed one.”

“Oh!” Temperance felt a pleasurable rush of confusion. “Well, the Home for Unfortunate Infants and Foundling Children is in St. Giles, and we take care of eight and twenty children at the moment, but we could take care of ever so much more if only we had a patron for the home.” Her shoulders slumped. “That’s why I was so hopeful of Sir Henry.”

Lady Hero shook her head. “I’m sorry. Do you have both girls and boys at your home?”

“Yes, we keep them in separate rooms, of course, but we accept all children up to the age of nine. They’re apprenticed out at that age.”

“Really?” Lady Hero said. Her hands were folded gracefully in her lap, and she made no movement, but she seemed somehow to be genuinely interested. “But then how—oh, bother.”

Her gaze had gone beyond Temperance’s shoulder.

Temperance glanced quickly and saw a rather stout matron gesturing imperiously.

“It’s Cousin Bathilda,” Lady Hero said. “She probably wants me to go in with her to dinner, and she’ll only become more irate if I pretend not to notice her.”

“Then you had best go.”

“I fear so.” Lady Hero inclined her head. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Dews.”

“Mrs.” Temperance said quickly. “I’m widowed.”

“Mrs. Dews, then.” Lady Hero rose. “I do hope we meet again.”

Temperance watched her make her way to “Cousin Bathilda.”

When she turned back, Caire was standing in front of her, a glass of punch in his hand. “You’ve been in rarefied company in my absence.”

Temperance smiled at him. “You wouldn’t credit how nice she is.”

He glanced in Lady Hero’s direction, then back at her, his expression indulgent. “Is she? Come, drink up your punch and then I shall feed you some scandalously decadent dinner before I take you home. Your brother is bound to be pacing by the door as it is.”

Indeed, it was nearly an hour before they finally made their way to Caire’s carriage. Temperance was yawning widely after the rich food and richer wine. Caire settled her on a seat, knocked on the carriage roof, and then sat beside her, drawing her into his arms. He threw a fur across them both, and she drifted in and out of sleep as his carriage rumbled across London.

It was like a dream world. She felt so safe and warm in his arms, and she could hear the strong beat of his heart under her ear. He was different from her, an aristocrat from a marvelous spun-sugar world, but his heart beat just like any other man.