Page 25 of 10 Things I Hate About the Earl

“No.” Letitia frowned briefly then her face cleared. “But I’m happy to give her advice on anything she needs. That’s why she asked me, you see. Her note said after making my acquaintance, she thought I could give her a fresh perspective on some of her clothing choices.” His sister had given him a curious glance. “Although I wonder if she’s actually trying to gain your favor by befriending me.”

That had been too close to the truth for Marcus’s taste. And he would not wish his sister to think herself unvalued as a friend. “Miss Locke trying to gain my favor? Have you lost your senses, Letitia? The lady’s been nothing but critical of me.” Thinking of her list, his lips had pursed. “I suspect her intentions are simply those she mentioned—that she needs fresh eyes to give her advice, and you are her newest acquaintance. I would take it as a great compliment.”

“Oh, I do, Marcus, I do.” She’d kissed his cheek and run from the room on happy feet.

As he’d been from home when she’d returned, Marcus was very eager to hear from Miss Locke how she and his sister had fared.

He climbed down, hurried up the steps, and was about to ply the brass door knocker, when the door flew open and suddenly Miss Locke stared him in the face. Marcus stumbled back and would’ve pitched himself down the marble stairs had her hand not grasped his lapel and jerked him toward her.

“Where have you been?” she hissed at him, her blue eyes flashing.

“At my club for most of the morning. Why?” His proximity to Miss Locke, with her lavender scent wafting into his nose, was making it difficult to focus on anything other than her porcelain skin and what it would feel like to caress it. “I’m here at the appointed time.”

“It is three o’clock, Lord Haversham.”

“And that’s the same hour we agreed upon for yesterday, is it not?”

Her brows dipped in a frown. “I believe you came at two o’clock yesterday.”

“I’m sorry to contradict you, but it was three.” He cocked his head, curious. “You wrote it in your note the day before.”

“Oh.” She shook her head, making the fiery curls framing her face dance. “I could’ve sworn it was two o’clock.”

“Is something amiss, Miss Locke?” Marcus was becoming alarmed by her urgency. “Something to do with my sister?”

“Yes. Well, no, nothing is wrong, but it does have to do with your sister.” She nodded toward his curricle. “Shall we go? I really do have a lot to tell you, my lord.”

“By all means, Miss Locke.” Marcus offered his arm, still confused by her actions. The Miss Locke he was familiar with was not this flighty. He assisted her into the curricle, and they set off once more for Hyde Park. “So your shopping trip this morning was successful? Letitia was thrilled that you asked her.”

“Yes, she had a wonderful time, no thanks to you.” Miss Locke gave him a wicked glare.

“No thanks to me?” Marcus stared back at her. “I gave permission for her to go with you. Without Aunt Augusta.”

“And that’s what you should’ve been doing since before Lady Letitia had her come out, my lord.” The lady shook her head. “Does Lady Letitia have friends?”

“I…I don’t know.” The question took Marcus by surprise. “I assumed she did. She didn’t wish to go out after Father died, and I wasn’t around much before he did. Did she say something to you?”

“Not directly, but she did tell me this was the first time she’d been shopping without you or her aunt in attendance. Which is terrible for her, my lord. She’s likely shy because she’s been alone so long. And when I asked why she hadn’t been out with her friends, she said she didn’t have very many. That they were mostly her cousins, who did not live near you.” Miss Locke was staring accusingly at him. “Did she never play with the children near your estate?”

Again, his answer was a shameful, “I don’t know.” But he had to defend himself somewhat. “I’m almost seven years older than Letitia. By the time she was out of the nursery, I was off at school then university. I’m sorry, but I don’t know who her friends were growing up.” He sighed. That little admission would likely add a line to Miss Locke’s list: uncaring.

“And I can understand that, my lord.” She didn’t look particularly understanding. “My brother didn’t pay much attention to me either, until our father died. But as soon as he was the one responsible for me, he made it his business to know who my friends were, what I did, where I went, what entertainments I liked and didn’t like.” She looked at him, her eyes half-accusatory, half-pleading. “This is what you should’ve been doing all last winter, in preparation for Lady Letitia’s come out.”

Marcus sighed. “You are correct, Miss Locke. I should have done and am sorry I did not think to do so. What can I do now to make amends?”

Looking quite mollified, Miss Locke settled her ruffled feathers. “I am sure you didn’t neglect her out of spite, my lord. And I believe there are ways to help Lady Letitia be more forthcoming during her Season.” She looked up at him curiously. “Did you know your sister adores hats?”

“Hats?” This was the first Marcus had heard of this. Letitia had never confided such a thing to him.

“Hats and bonnets.” Miss Locke nodded emphatically. “My cousin Lady Celinda is exactly the same. I’ve never seen anyone with such a collection of millinery in my life. And your sister’s preparing to rival her in her acquisition.”

“Let me guess, I will shortly receive a rather large bill from the milliner?” Marcus suppressed a groan. His pursuit of Miss Locke had best conclude quickly and favorably, else he’d have nary a feather to fly with.

The grin on her face told him he’d guessed correctly. He turned the horses through the north gate and started along Rotten Row.

“Her face lit up like the sun after a rainstorm, my lord, the very moment we entered Madame Morriss’s shop. She tried on so many different bonnets and hats, and they truly became her.” Miss Locke nodded again. “You know there are some women who simply cannot wear a hat and have it look right, but your sister is not one of them. So I confess I begged her to indulge herself this once.” She leaned toward him and grasped his arm. “But I have a plan to employ them to help bring her out of her shyness.”

The moment she touched his arm, a surge of heat hit Marcus as though he’d stepped into a Turkish bath. Good lord, what was happening to him? If this happened whenever the woman touched him, he’d never survive a set of country dances, much less a waltz. He tried to smile pleasantly at her, praying she’d release him before sweat popped out on his brow. “What is that, Miss Locke?”