Page 60 of Reforming Lord Neil

“I cannot think so far into the future.” Teresa watched the baby take up his mother’s hand and attempt to chew on her finger. “I must go home and sort matters out there, then I may begin to plan.”

“That seems sensible. Although, if you do not mind me speaking somewhat out of turn, I believe there is at least one man highly invested in your decision.” The sparkle in the countess’s eyes, accompanied by her sly smile, left no doubt as to who or what she meant. Teresa’s face warmed, but before she could protest, the door opened again admitting a footman and maid with trays of tea and refreshment.

When the servants left, the countess changed the subject entirely to speaking of her family. Teresa relaxed now that she was no longer the topic of choice, and she participated with great interest.

No matter what the countess said, or how much Teresa felt toward Neil, she could not allow herself to speculate on a future with him. His family, his responsibility to them, must come first. And they would never approve of Neil lowering himself to a marriage with one such as she. Even with her case won, the funds at her disposal did not elevate her enough to consider wedding the son of a marquess.

Neil had stated, quite clearly, that he would stay in her life until his family allowed him back into theirs. Asking him to risk the relationships of his family for her would cause still more damage. She would not expect more of him.

Even if she had fallen in love with him.

* * *

Neil waited in the parlor with Sir Isaac and Lady Fox for their hosts. And Teresa. She had not yet appeared for dinner, either. But the wait was not entirely unpleasant, given that Lady Fox had an especially entertaining wit. The woman was cleverer than most, and she kept the gentlemen entertained by recounting a story about stumbling upon a goat in one of her rambles in the country.

“But enough of my nonsense,” she said after finishing the story amid their laughter. “I need to learn more about you, Lord Neil. We have not seen each other in weeks and weeks, of course, but you strike me as much altered since the house party where we met.”

Sir Isaac tucked his one arm around his wife’s shoulder, as casually as if it was a common thing for a man to show such affection in public. “I must agree with my wife’s observation. You are decidedly tan.”

Neil glowered at the baronet, but his lady laughed. “I did not mean his complexion, Isaac. I meant his manner. Lord Neil often makes a show of being so relaxed he cannot even bother with proper posture. But look at him now, all stiff and correct, as though he waits for an audience with the king.”

As he had no intention of feeding the woman’s curiosity, Neil only shrugged and adjusted the ends of his cuffs. He rather missed his clothing being made to actually fit him, rather than making do with something sewn to someone else’s specifications. “It has been a trying day.”

“Has it? Even though Mrs. Clapham received everything she could hope for?” Sir Isaac smirked, then leaned closer to whisper loudly to his wife, “I see what you mean now, of course. Look how the man fidgets.”

Stiffening his spine, Neil crossed his arms over his chest. “I do not fidget. These clothes are ill fitting.”

“Ah, yes. The rumors were that you wandered about the country in your evening clothes for a time.” Sir Isaac’s grin appeared nearly triumphant.

It took effort not to grumble like an ill-mannered youth when Neil answered that remark. “I am pleased my discomfort brings you such entertainment.”

“My husband is obviously not feeling compassionate at present.” Lady Fox’s smile remained undimmed, despite her apologetic tone. “You must forgive him. But do tell me. Is Mrs. Clapham wonderfully pleased by how it has all turned out? Does she even now plan her new life?”

He leaned against the mantel, uncrossing his arms and trying to relax his posture. “Mrs. Clapham seemed surprised by the outcome, and she is a practical woman. I doubt she will make many plans before the funds are directly in her possession. Life has taught her to be cautious, after all.”

Sir Isaac grinned again. “You sound as though you admire that aspect of her.”

“One must admire a practical woman,” Neil said, tapping his fingers against the mantel. “They are so rare, after all.”

“Though that statement sounds rather severe upon my sex, I will agree. When it comes to ladies of Society.” Lady Fox actually smirked. “But do see, Isaac, that he readily admitted to admiring our Mrs. Clapham. Do you think, perhaps, the differences we sense in him has less to do with his change in fortune and more with his new acquaintance?”

“Ah, perhaps you have something there, Millie.” Sir Isaac tipped his head back, narrowing his eyes as he made a show of studying Neil again.

Neil scoffed and turned his own away to stare at the door. If only he had not readied himself for dinner with such haste. He might have avoided the entire conversation. “You are both imagining things.”

“Most unlikely.” Lady Fox giggled. “Oh, I can hardly wait to meet her. Do you know, I had not thought Lord Neil the sort of man whose head might be turned by any woman.”

Sir Isaac opened his mouth to speak, far too much amusement already written upon his face, when the door opened and Teresa entered.

Not caring who saw, and almost forgetting their audience, Neil approached her at once with one hand outstretched. “Mrs. Clapham. You look enchanting this evening.” She wore a dress he had not seen upon her before, with silver embroidery and a lavender color that made her gray eyes appear quite light. Her dark hair was done up in lovely curls and twists, and he saw the ribbon he had procured for her in her hair. It was her only real adornment. She wore no jewels, no silk shawl. Only the ribbon, dress, and cream-colored gloves that had likely come from the days before her husband’s loss.

Yet he could not think he had ever seen a more beautiful woman in his life.

“Thank you,” she murmured, placing her hand in his and stepping close. Her cheeks turned pink. “I hope no one else will mind that I am dressed all wrong for the occasion.” It was true. The gown was simple by the standards he had known. Everyone at the table that evening would be titled, except for her.

“I daresay, no one will care at all.” Neil gave her hand a squeeze, then guided her to the now-standing couple in the room. “Sir Isaac Fox, Lady Fox, might I present to you my dear friend, Mrs. Henry Clapham.”

“It is an honor to meet you at last,” Teresa said as they exchanged the proper greetings. “Thank you for your part in setting things up for court. I cannot possibly express my gratitude enough for all that you have done.”