Before Lilah could answer, a couple approached them. The Honorable Sarah Francis was on her sixth Season, an impressive record, but not one to be proud of. Her father, Viscount Francis, was rumored to have exhausted his funds in his attempts to get her off his hands.
“Molineux! How pleasant to see you!”
Lilah’s companion stopped. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure, Mr.…”
“Viscount Francis,” the man said. “We were introduced at Whites. May I present my daughter, the Honorable Sarah Francis?”
The lady inclined her head and held out her hand. Fraser took it and bowed.
“Charmed.”
“As am I,” she replied.
“Forgive me, Miss Francis, I have an appointment,” he said, “but perhaps we may meet again.”
“I do hope so.” Her voice bore a note of desperation identical to her father’s.
Fraser released her hand and steered Lilah back along the path. After about ten paces, she heard a snort of laughter.
“What’s the matter?” she asked.
“It never ceases to amuse me to observe how certain individuals simper over the hands of those they believe will be useful to them,” he said. “The pleasure is magnified one hundredfold when I find myself the direct recipient of a desperate viscount’s simpering, and that of his horse-faced daughter.”
“Viscount Francis has some influence,” Lilah said. “You’d find his friendship to your advantage.”
He chuckled. “You’re as ridiculous as they are, lass, if you believe me foolish enough to fall for such insincerity. What do the people of London see when they look at me? Half of them would spit in the face of the Scotsman, and the other half would prostrate themselves at the feet of the duke.”
“And which do you prefer?”
He stopped walking and lifted her hand to his lips. A thrill coursed through her as his hot breath caressed her skin.
“Neither,” he said. “I’d rather endure the frank rudeness of a wee terrier.”
“You think to insult me?”
His mouth curled into a smile, and a spark of danger shone in his eyes.
“Of course not, lass,” he said. “But I’ll wager you’d prefer the raw honesty of a Highlander over the insincerity of a fop.”
He took her wrist and caressed her skin with his thumb in a light, tender gesture, which sent a firebolt of need through her.
“Shall I be honest, Miss Hart?” He lowered his voice. “I think ye’re a woman in need of pleasure.”
“Nonsense!” she said, her voice tight. “The pursuit of pleasure is the origin of the evils of society.”
“Strange words for a young woman,” he said. “Do you really think that life is there to be denied? Why should we merely exist when we can live instead?”
“What do you mean?”
“I think ye know what I mean, lass.”
He drew her close, and his eyes darkened. Her heart fluttered at the hunger in his expression.
She parted her lips in anticipation and tipped her head up. She only had to move a little closer…
“Delilah!”
Dorothea’s voice broke the spell, and she withdrew from his grasp.
Her brother and sister stood before them. Dexter’s brow was furrowed as his gaze passed from Lilah to her companion. Thea’s appraisal, though just as searching, was considerably less critical.
“Delilah, perhaps you’d care to explain yourself,” Dexter said. His voice held an edge of steel, and he moved closer, his body casting a shadow across the path.
Lilah turned to her companion. “Your Grace, may I present my brother and sister, Mr. Dexter Hart and Miss Dorothea Hart? Dexter, Dorothea, this is Fraser MacGregor, thirteenth Duke Molineux.”
“Yes, I know who he is,” Dexter said, “and I want to know why you’re in his company, unchaperoned.”
“Forgive me, Mr. Hart,” Fraser said. “I happened upon your sister a short while ago and offered to accompany her until she rejoined her family.”
“You know him, Dex?” Lilah asked.
Dexter’s eyes narrowed.
Fraser exchanged a glance with Dexter, then smiled. “Mr. Pelham was kind enough to introduce us shortly after I arrived in London.”
“Have you been long in London, Your Grace?” Thea asked.
“Almost a month.”
“And what do you think of it? How does it fare in comparison to Edinburgh? Your accent is Scottish, yes?”
“I’ve never been to Edinburgh, Miss Hart. I’m afraid I’d be considered something of the savage, for I prefer the wildness of the Highlands to the confines of a city.”
Thea smiled. “Do you dislike London?”
“Not all of it,” he replied. “I have found much to admire here.”
His gaze settled on Lilah, and warmth bloomed in her cheeks. His mouth twitched, and her lips tingled with the thought of his kiss. As if he read her thoughts, his tongue flicked out and caressed his lower lip.
“I’ve heard much of the friendships you’ve been making while in London, Your Grace,” Dexter said, “some of them considerably more—intimate—than others.”
“Dexter!” Thea admonished, before casting a glance at Lilah.
“Forgive me, Molineux,” Dexter said. “I was intimately acquainted with Mrs. Whitford at one time. When you see her next, do give her my best wishes.”
Dexter’s words doused the warmth in Lilah’s heart.
Mrs. Whitford. The harlot who Lord Granville had humiliated her with.
“Dexter, please!” Thea rolled her eyes. “It’s not seemly to talk of a harlot, not when the duke may be looking for a wife.
Fraser laughed good-naturedly. “I assure you, Miss Hart, I have no desire to find a wife in London.”
Stricken with shame for desires which were not returned, Lilah pulled her arm free.
“A man must enjoy himself,” Dexter said.
“True, but the whole sorry business of courtship is not an activity which holds any interest for me,” Fraser replied. “I have a considerable amount of work to do to restore Clayton House to make it habitable.”
“You intend to settle in London?” Dorothea asked.
“My heart is in the Highlands, Miss Hart,” he replied, “but while I’m expanding my business, I must accept that London is the center of the commercial world.”
“Is there much work needed?”
“I believe so,” he said. “The structure of the main house is not altogether sound, and the furnishings have succumbed to the elements. Some of the outbuildings are in want of attention.”
“I hear the aviary is in need of repair,” Thea said, glancing at Lilah.
“Work is already underway,” he said.
“And what of the inmates?” Despite herself, Lilah couldn’t help asking.
His gaze settled on her. “Rest assured, Miss Delilah, the birds are being tended to. I’ve been informed that to simply free them would be to sign their death warrant.”
“Of course.”
“But,” he continued, “if they have been enjoying the company of a visitor these past two years, I would not wish to see them deprived of further visits.”