‘So, you will sacrifice yourself to maintain the status quo.’
‘It is hardly a sacrifice to marry a peer,’ she said, even though it sometimes felt like it.
‘It is always a burden to alter your life for the good of another,’ Charity said. ‘If you are doing so for my sake, it is not necessary.’
‘If you don’t mean to help yourself, then I must. You will not find a husband hiding in someone else’s library.’
‘I will be fine, with or without a husband,’ Charity said. ‘We might be fine together, if you will let go of the foolish idea that it is necessary to marry to be safe.’
‘You do not understand...’ Hope said.
‘I understand more than you know. I simply do not care.’
‘That is quite clear from your appearance,’ Hope snapped. ‘We are in London, not Berkshire. You might be required to receive visitors while I am gone. Please return to your room and do not come down again until you are wearing a new gown and a hair ribbon.’
Charity glanced in the mirror above the fireplace and then away again, unbothered by her sister’s hectoring. ‘The man I marry will have to love my imperfections, for I have no intention of changing my dress or my manner just to please him.’
‘Then you do not know as much as you think,’ Hope said. ‘It is up to us to make ourselves desirable. It is not in the nature of men to compromise.’
‘If a woman has enough money, they will do it quick enough,’ Charity said with a nod.
‘Since we are currently without funds that is not a consideration.’ Not for the first time, Hope wondered if there wasn’t a strain of madness running through the family. Sometimes she felt more like a keeper than a sister.
‘Perhaps I shall sell some of Grandmother’s jewellery,’ Charity said. ‘There are more than enough diamonds in her parure to spare one or two stones.’
‘No!’ Hope balled her hands into fists, trying to keep from tearing at her own hair. ‘There will be no more pilfering from the entail. If that is the wonderful plan you keep hinting at, it is even more foolish than mine.’
‘So you admit that your plan is foolish,’ Charity announced, taking nothing else from the conversation.
‘No!’
‘Miss Strickland. Miss Charity.’ Mr Drake had arrived unannounced, yet again, and was standing in the doorway, witnessing the whole embarrassing scene.
Hope pushed past her sister and grabbed him by the arm, trying to turn him towards the door. ‘We need to be going. Now, Mr Drake.’
‘Of course, Miss Strickland.’ He pulled free of her grasp and stepped ahead of her to open doors and ready the carriage.
The bustle of the next few moments, putting on coat and bonnet, allowed her time to recover from her mortification. It was bad enough that he had caught her arguing with her sister and even worse that she’d laid hands on his person and tried to drag him from the room. If he had arrived a few minutes earlier, he’d have heard a discourse on his appearance, talents and marriageability.
Or had he heard? She had no idea how long he had been standing there, watching them fight. She stared across the carriage at him, searching his face for any trace of awareness.
As usual, his perfect face was effortlessly composed. There was no sign of clenching in that finely planed jawline. No indication that his lips, which were both firm and full, had a smile hiding in the corners. And though his eyes were alert, like a hawk scanning the distance for prey, there was no indication that the mind behind them was ruminating on a scrap of overheard conversation.
As her sister had said, he really was uncommonly handsome. It was not as if Hope hadn’t noticed the fact yesterday. But now that she had a reason to study his face, it was rather like staring too long into the sun. Her cheeks felt hot and the image of him seemed to be embedded in her thoughts.
It was probably what came of staring. Ladies did not stare, even at people they wanted to look at. It was not Hope’s habit to do so. Perhaps it would be better to drop her eyes and peer at him through her lashes.
But that sounded rather like flirting. She did not mean to do that, either. It was good that she was veiled, so that he did not witness her, blushing over nothing and unsure where to rest her eyes. It did no good to look lower, at the immaculate shirt front visible beneath his coat, or at his strong hands, resting casually in his lap as if waiting for the moment when they would steady her departure from the carriage.
It was growing stuffy under the veil. That was likely why she could not seem to catch her breath. Though she could not think of a rule against it, holding one’s breath until it came out in sighs was probably as rude as staring. But now that her breathing had fallen from its normal rhythm, she could not seem to find it again. The first was too shallow, the next so deep that it sucked the veil into her mouth, which ended in a sputtering cough and the need to rip her bonnet away and gasp for fresh air.
Mr Drake glanced in her direction, surprised. It was clear he had not been thinking of her at all until she had called such mortifying attention to herself.
She cleared her throat and patted her chest lightly as if trying to clear her lungs. ‘A bit of lint. From the veil, I think.’
He nodded in sympathy. ‘You needn’t wear it in the carriage, if it makes you uncomfortable. The shades are down and there will be more than enough time to put it in place when we arrive at a shop.’
‘Thank you,’ she said, still not sure if she wished to give up her disguise just yet.
‘And, in case you have been wondering, your sister exaggerates. I did not find you overly proud on our first two meetings. Your behaviour towards me was well within the social norms.’
She had been right to worry. He had heard everything. Now, she was absolutely sure she was blushing at him. ‘I apologise for the behaviour you witnessed as you arrived, Mr Drake. And for seizing your arm and forcing you from the house, as well. And for Charity’s lies,’ she added, for that was what they had been.
‘It is I who owe you the apology,’ he reminded her. ‘While I did not intend to eavesdrop, that was the result of not announcing myself sooner.’ He offered a shrug and another smile. ‘And though I do not know from experience, I am given to understand that it is the job of younger siblings to be as aggravating as possible.’
‘You have none of your own, then?’ It was not her place to ask, although he had opened the subject himself, so perhaps it was not too very rude.
He shook his head. ‘No brothers or sisters at all. And so that Charity does not need to quiz me tomorrow, you can assure her that I am not married, as yet, but fully intend to do so, should I find the right woman.’
‘You heard everything, then.’
He nodded.
‘You must think us all quite horrid,’ she said. ‘My grandmother was a lax guardian, at best. Since she could not be bothered to teach her, it has been left to me to be a good example to my younger sister and to instruct her in ladylike behaviour. But I have had little success.’
‘Perhaps if you refrained from throwing candlesticks at her,’ he said.
‘It only happened the one time,’ she assured him, trying not to think of all the childhood stories Charity might tell him that would sound even worse. He might never have known of them had she been able to keep her mouth shut on the previous day. ‘We were rambunctious children when we arrived at the manor. At first,