Page 82 of A Cinderella to Redeem the Earl

‘Really, Damian. A lady? I have already met with the nursery man. He is outrageously expensive for the particular item I am seeking. I am sure I can get it much cheaper at one of the smaller stalls.’

‘There is no need to scrimp and scrape.’ He browsed the buffet and helped himself to eggs and ham.

‘I am not scrimping and scraping, but I refuse to be cheated.’

When he heard that tone of voice, he knew she would not be put off.

‘Very well. I will accompany you.’

She looked surprised and pleased, then shook her head. ‘Oh, dear, I would not put you to so much trouble. I know you are busy. I won’t go alone, I promise you. I have already arranged for my maid to accompany me.’

‘I will drive you,’ he said firmly. ‘After all, the ball is my project. And I am intrigued as to what it is you need to acquire.’

Her naughty little smile stirred his blood, as it always did. ‘You will have to wait and see.’

‘Because?’

‘Because.’

He frowned. ‘Whatever we do, it must be in the very best of taste.’

‘Of course.’

He could tell from her expression he was not going to get any more out of her, likely because she thought he might try to veto her purchase.

As if he actually would. Unless he was concerned for her safety, he had discovered he could not deny her a single thing she wanted. It pleased him to make her happy, when he knew it should not. He was indulging himself in the short few weeks left to them. Perhaps hoping that they would both have some happy memories, before the sword of Damocles landed. He would feel its cut as much as she would. But he could not stop now. Could he?

Once before he had let his parent down so badly. If he had been less cowardly he would have had all the money he needed to pay for doctors and medicine. They might even have been alive today, living in comfort.

He could not now go back on his word to avenge their deaths. If he did not keep his word, what sort of son would he be?

If only he didn’t like her so much.

Unlike his previous ladies, who wanted jewels or money, Pamela asked for nothing other than what was due to her. But then as his partner, she lacked for nothing in the money department. However, she could have asked for more. Most women would.

He was going to miss her very much when they parted. She was the most honest, sweetest woman he had ever met. And if he allowed himself to think about it, the thought of ruining her made him feel sick to his stomach. She would hate him when the truth came out.

A strangely hollow ache filled him.

It twisted painfully inside him. Devil take it. Sentimentality had no place in his plans.

‘I will get the carriage put to.’

She gave him a puzzled look as if she sensed his disquiet. ‘Very well, it seems there is no dissuading you. I will fetch my coat and hat and meet you at the front door.’

As he strode for the mews, he realised he had barely touched his breakfast. He shrugged. What did it matter that he wasn’t particularly hungry?

Oddy greeted him wildly for the second time that morning.

Damian patted him. What on earth was he to do with the animal when he left for America? Perhaps Pamela would take him.

When the coachman put the horses to the barouche, Oddy immediately jumped aboard.

‘I don’t think I need your company today,’ Damian said. ‘Ladies don’t like dog hair all over their clothes.’

The dog stared at him mournfully, reminding him that he always went with Damien when he took the barouche. It was their agreement. He could not go in the phaeton, but he could go in the carriage.

Damian sighed. ‘Very well. After all, it is her fault that I own you in the first place.’