Page 39 of No Match for Love (Regency Love Stories)

Confused, he glanced down at her, seeing the way she tucked back a smile. “My arms?”

“Yes, they must ache terribly after holding that newspaper so high all evening. I couldn’t have managed it.”

He could not fall to her teasing bait—it was too dangerous. “They are perfectly well, thank you.”

“I suppose you do that as practice, yes?” She looked forward, her head tilted in thought. “The lifting of newspapers—the true secret of your pugilist success.”

He nearly snorted at the ridiculousness of the statement.

“Do not worry,” she said, voice lowered, “I will tell no one. The papers could not handle the increase in sales should everyone learn just how effective the exercise was.” The way she said it, so serious and certain, made the words even more humorous.

“Come now. You must admit it is funny to think on,” she poked.

He kept his eyes forward. “A bit.”

“Newspapers, Lord Berkeley? Paper. As exercise?” She squeezed his arm, seemingly trying to physically provoke him into a good humor.

“Yes, yes, you are very witty.” Though he was certain he kept the smile from his face, he was not so sure it did not bleed into his words.

“So long as you are aware of my finer qualities. That is all I ask.” She was still jesting, he could tell from the tone of her voice, but he could not help but think that he was too aware of her finer qualities. She dropped her teasing and asked, “You have been busy of late?”

It might have been better not to invite her back into his confidence, but she’d worn him down with her levity, and honestly, he’d missed having her to converse with. “The club is dealing with some difficulties, and my father is considering handing over some of his responsibility to me.”

“Oh, you are certain to be successful in whatever responsibilities he gives you.”

“That is kind of you to say.”

“I do not mean it as a simple kindness. You have a discerning mind and an ingrained sense of right and wrong. You will succeed at whatever you attempt, I imagine.”

Strangely, he felt his neck heat at the praise, and he couldn’t find much in the way of a response.

“Might I ask what is causing difficulty at the club?”

Though weeks before he never would have shared even as much as he already had, he found himself almost grateful to talk about it.

“Some of the men we have helped are experiencing pushback from their previous employers. It has been... problematic.” So far, Lucas had been able to find several of the shareholders of the canal group, but each of them had only invested money into the venture; they were not running it.

Lucas needed to find the person in charge.

“Has anyone else been hurt?”

Lucas’s jaw tightened. “Yes. Though not as badly as the first.”

Her expression was solemn. “That is terrible. I hope you are able to put a stop to it immediately.”

He did too.

“Let me know if I can be of service in any way,” she added.

He nodded.

She stopped of a sudden, and he looked down at her to see what had arrested her attention. It was a family portrait that hung on the wall.

“Is that Marietta?” she asked softly, pointing to the young girl standing beside their mother.

The twins were maybe five or six in that painting.

Mother had adored having portraits done of the family and had made them sit through one at least every few years.

Lucas both loved and hated those portraits.

“Yes,” he said.

“She is beautiful.”

“She hated her dress.” Where had that recollection come from?

Miss Faraday laughed lightly. “I hate most of my own, so I imagine I would have been able to commiserate with her. Especially as a child. I was the bane of my governesses’ lives.”

Half a smile pulled at Lucas’s lips. “You? I doubt it.”

Miss Faraday lips pinched to the side in amused recollection.

“There is a possibility that I was a bit... difficult. All I wished to do was run amok, and for a time, we ran through governess after governess until one decided to stay. She spent many years trying to mold me into a young lady. Eventually she realized that Lord Tarrington hardly visited, and she stopped trying. She was kind enough—just neglected to teach me much after that. That is when I became close with the tenant families. They did not mind my odd ways.”

“You are not odd.”

She brought her hands to her chest in pretended rapture. “Why, thank you. That is the highest compliment I’ve ever received.”

Lucas chuckled, but the emptiness of the corridor magnified the sound and brought to his attention that they were now alone.

Mother and Charlie had continued on without noticing Lucas and Miss Faraday stopped.

Suddenly aware of how very inappropriate their current circumstance was, Lucas offered his arm again.

She took it silently, and they reached the door of her room within a minute.

She was staying in the family wing, but on the close end, with his parents’ and Charlie’s rooms between them.

Still, it felt terribly strange to take her to her door knowing his own was mere steps away.

“Sleep well, Miss Faraday,” he murmured as he released her.

“And you, Lord Berkeley.”

He turned before she’d fully opened her door, retreating for his room and the relative safety within.

As always, time in her company had made nearly every concern slip from his mind, but they all came rushing back in an instant.

He was supposed to be avoiding his feelings for the woman, not abetting them.

Apparently he would need to avoid Miss Faraday for more than three days if the way his heart hammered against his chest was any indication.