Page 4 of A Lord in Want of a Wife (Daring Debutantes #2)

She wanted to linger, to hear more of the two gentlemen’s conversation, but she didn’t dare lose her party. And since her adoptive father had been pulled into a conversation with a so-called medicine man, she hurried to protect him.

She needn’t have bothered. To her surprise, he was more knowledgeable than most about medicines. Even though his cough was a new development, he’d travelled throughout the world and knew a charlatan when he met one.

So they left the medicine seller and returned to The Integrity , only to pull up short when she saw their captain in discussion with none other than Cedric and Graham. They were standing at the base of the gangplank, talking in the formal way of wealthy Englishmen.

Mindful that she wasn’t safe until she was aboard ship, Lucy hurried up the gangplank. But then she lingered up top, standing as close to the conversation as she dared without appearing obvious.

She couldn’t hear anything that was said.

She contented herself with watching the way Cedric’s body stayed relaxed despite the dangers that she constantly feared.

His English face was animated, and she liked his high cheekbones and bright blue-green eyes.

But what she really wanted to hear was his laughter.

When it rang out, it was as sweet as a bell.

How free he sounded!

And then, to her absolute delight, Graham handed over passage money to the captain and Cedric climbed aboard.

Cedric saw the pretty girl watching him from the main mast. He’d seen her in the marketplace as well, trailing behind them as they headed for the ship.

He was well used to girls making eyes at him.

It had nothing to do with him personally.

The attention came because he was Cedric, Lord Domac, future Earl of Hillburn.

And because he wasn’t hideously ugly. But that didn’t stop him from playing to his audience in the hopes of stealing a kiss or three.

That was, after all, how he’d spent much of his adolescence, and he saw no reason to change that now that he was travelling.

Unfortunately, his title meant less outside of England than inside it. So he had to rely on his charm, of which he had plenty. As he boarded the ship home, he made pains to smile winningly at the girl and then stopped long enough to look at her more closely.

Such a face she had! Golden skin, dark brown hair, and eyes that lowered demurely when he looked.

Not a bold miss then, despite her obvious fascination with him.

He appreciated subtlety in his women, though in truth, one lady was much the same as another to him.

If they made him smile, they were worth his attention, provided they required no coin whatsoever.

And if he made them smile… Well, that’s how things became fun. Even the most awful day faded if there was a woman willing to ease his pain—and hers—that night.

He saw the Asian cast to her features, knew she was of mixed race, and was intrigued by the way two vastly different cultures combined to make a glorious whole.

He noted with surprise that she was dressed in the English style, buttoned up despite the heat, and carrying a parasol which she’d obviously forgotten nearby.

He crossed the deck quickly, eager to learn more about her without once giving thought to who had care of her.

That was probably because the girls he noticed rarely had a protector.

Not so with this girl. He had no more than picked up her parasol when an older Englishman with a weathered face stepped up beside her.

‘Hullo, hullo!’ the older man called. ‘I’d heard we had a handsome young buck coming aboard.’

‘I don’t know whether to feel the compliment at being called handsome or insulted that I could be shot by an eager huntsman.

’ He grinned as he shook the man’s extended hand.

‘I’m Lord Domac, and I’m pleased that I shall have interesting company on the long journey home.

’ As he spoke, he winked at the girl whose eyes widened in shock.

Well, that was a new reaction. She wasn’t exactly frightened by him. She had not run away. But she clearly wasn’t used to interacting with a flirt. He needed to soften his approach until she grew used to him. Then he intended to flirt outrageously with her for the next five months.

‘I’m Lord Wenshire and this is my daughter Lucy Richards. Her sister is here somewhere, too. But don’t expect too much conversation from them. They’re still learning English. Though I’m constantly impressed by how much they do understand.’

Hmm. The girl didn’t have the vacant look of someone who couldn’t follow the language. If anything, she appeared bright and engaged, though obviously silent. ‘I shall be sure to speak properly then, so she won’t learn the wrong things from me.’

‘I’m sure you will,’ the father said with a note of steel in his voice.

A protective father. He could work with that, especially since the man followed up the hard stare with a fond one for his daughter. He was a kind man, then. That made everything easier. So he smiled and addressed the father in a respectful manner.

‘I am sure you have a tale or three about how you and your lovely daughters came to be here. I hope you will share them with me.’ He sent a warm look towards Lucy. ‘I am most anxious to hear more.’

The girl pinked at his look but did not turn away. He held out his hand in a courtly gesture. She glanced uncertainly at her father, but at his nod, she held out her hand to be kissed.

Neither of them wore gloves. He had lost his ages ago and from the golden brown of her skin, she had never worn them.

They touched skin to skin, and he felt a strange current of delight flow through him.

It was nothing so striking as a shock. More like a recognition that went soul to soul in an odd hum.

He saw her eyes widen again and wondered if she felt the same thing.

He drew her hand up to his mouth. He knew how to stroke a girl’s palm to set her heart aflutter.

But in this moment, he forgot to do it. He looked into her eyes and wondered what she felt, what she thought, and if perhaps the two of them might share something special.

It was nothing more than the magic of first meeting. He was well acquainted with the flutter of arousal that accompanied any new woman in his life. It meant nothing beyond his usual joy at something novel. Or rather someone novel.

And yet this moment felt unusual. The press of his lips against her skin felt unique. And the way their eyes met held extra delight.

He straightened slowly, wondering at his own clumsy confusion. Probably the heat and the distraught letter he’d received from his sister this morning. That was what had occasioned his return to England. A desperate plea for him to return and set the estate to rights.

As if that were possible. It would never happen unless his father was set to rights, and no one could do that but the man himself. Nevertheless, he had to return home. And now he had the intriguing Miss Lucy Richards to distract his depressing thoughts during the long journey.

‘All right then,’ came the hearty bellow from the captain. ‘I’ll show you to your berth. Won’t be long until we set sail.’

‘Of course,’ Cedric answered, his tone warm though his gaze remained on Miss Richards. His fingers opened reluctantly, and hers slipped out of his grasp.

‘Welcome, Lord Domac,’ she said. That was it. One word plus his name, but her odd accent seemed to strengthen the connection between them. Or maybe he simply liked the sound of his name on her lips.

Either way, he was forced below decks, his mind on the girl rather than on what he was doing.

She was clearly curious despite her shyness, and he thought her a kindred spirit.

He imagined her a sweet flower, buoyed by life’s precarious whims. If the winds blew them together for a time, he should be happy.

If the winds changed, however, he would move on without a second’s thought.

That was what he told himself, emphasizing the temporary nature of his connection to her. He would not dwell on that strange frisson that still hummed her name quietly inside him. She was a shipboard pleasure, and she would be gone the moment they landed in England.

To make sure he understood his purpose, he pulled out his sister’s letter. It had taken months to find him in India, but he had it now and it said everything he needed to remember.

Dearest Cedric,

I do not know if this letter will find you. We have penned so many letters to no avail. Pleading letters to father and mother. Desperate letters to the banker in London. And now to you in your far-off travels as you search for gold.

Cedric, the money is gone.

The roof collapsed. Spring storms are the worst, and this one took half the ceiling as it passed through. All your allowance has gone to keep the rest of the house standing.

We had scrimped and saved, investing in the crops.

You recall that I took over old Samson’s farm when he passed two years ago?

It’s hard work, but I have help and my choices were good ones.

We made a nice sum last fall, and I hoped to do the same this year.

But with the roof gone, all of our spare money is, too. We exist on soup and hard bread.

You must come home, Cedric. You are the only one who ever could control father. You must convince him to leave us some coin, if only to keep us from starvation.

Plus, Lilianna has begun to flirt with men.

I suppose we are all looking. None of us wants to be an old maid.

The best of the lot is an engineer with interesting ideas about the canal.

He’s a good man, unlike the others. You must find out if there is any dowry money, if only to attract a wider variety of men.

I know you had hope of it on your last visit.

The bankers will not tell us anything, but you know how to get them to talk.

Please, Cedric, I beseech you to come home. I care not if you have found your pot of gold. We need your help at home. Father continues to bleed us dry, and you are our only hope of stopping him.

In desperate straits,

Your loving sister, Cora

There was no dowry. His hope had been that he could provide one.

And there was no way to stop his father.

God knew he’d tried every way he could think of to manage the man.

That was why he’d gone to the East India Company to see if he could earn money that way.

But there hadn’t been enough time. What little money he’d earned was already sent home.

Which left him one option for his future. One choice to help his sisters and repair the estate. He needed to marry an heiress. And so he would as soon as he landed in London. But at least he had these last few months of freedom as the ship wended its way to back to England.

Five months to flirt with the pretty girl on board before he chained himself to whatever heiress would have him.

At least he had his own berth, thanks to Graham who had paid for it.

He even had a porthole through which he could see the colourful shores of India shrinking when they set sail.

It would take him a bit to adjust to the waves and the endless wet, but at least they would be out of the heat.

He smiled as his eyes drifted shut for a quick nap, thinking of the girl with the dark eyes and the sun-drenched blush.

Asian skin didn’t freckle like English skin did.

She would be golden brown all over, with straight dark hair to hide the tantalizing curves of her body.

Or better yet, she would part it to let him see the wonders beneath.

Ah, this was to be a sexual dream, he realised as he floated in a half sleep. That boded well for the journey. Even if she denied him in person, he could indulge in her charms every time he closed his eyes.