Chapter Twelve

" F ather!" Purity exclaimed, crouching down beside the crowded, ever-moving sack. "It is a litter, not a brood," she said.

"You are stalling, dear daughter. But I am a patient man. I have to be, what with five children."

She glanced up at him while absently reaching in to stroke the top of the mama cat's head. The creature must have felt more secure, for it purred and leaned against her fingers.

"There is nothing between Lord Foxford and me besides a burgeoning friendship. And even that is impossible because of our sexes. Soon, he will choose a wife from among the eligible young ladies, and that will be that."

She hadn't expected her father to laugh, but he did.

"My practical Purity. You can't fool me. At dinner, the man was your shadow, and then he nearly declared his devotion right there next to your pianoforte." He shook his head. "I behaved like a dunderhead whenever I was around your mother, too. From what your mother tells me, Foxford has been worse on more than one occasion."

"Not because of me," Purity insisted. "He was already lacking certain niceties when I met him. In fact, that's why I spend time with him, to help him."

"Is it now?" Her father's tone was one of disbelief, and his Diamond blue eyes danced.

"Father, don't ask me in such a fashion." She looked down at the kittens, all sucking with vigor while the mama cat curled around them, her eyes closed contentedly. "I was tutoring the man. That's all."

"It sounds a little stretched on the loom, my girl. That Foxford would seek help from you, a lovely earl's daughter, without any ulterior intention, and that you are no more interested in his lordship than assisting him to find a wife."

She shrugged. In truth, she had grown increasingly fond of the baron, nor could she deny to herself how his kisses inflamed her, constantly making her yearn for more.

"I suppose I think him interesting." That was all she would allow herself to confess.

Her father nodded. "I'm honored you are comfortable speaking to me. While I may never think any man good enough for you, I can see where he might have some charms. After all, he is a titled gentleman with a fortune, and he belongs to a good club, although not the same as my own. I don't know much about his family, but I also haven't heard anything bad about them either. His father died when he was young."

"I did not know," she said softly.

"Apart from his wealth," the earl continued, "I also have eyes. Foxford is not unattractive."

"No," she agreed, starting to squirm like one of the kittens.

"And he seems to be smitten with you."

She wrinkled her nose. "If you say so, Father."

"Then there is the matter of his reputation."

Her eyes flared open. "Yes, there is that."

"Many a young man of high birth and comfortable wealth find themselves spoken about in the papers, the topic of all kinds of nasty gossip."

"I don't care for gossip," she said.

He nodded. "I know, and you are a sensible girl. Sometimes, gossip is an outright lie. Sometimes, it is merely an embellishment of the unflattering truth. Who knows what is the case with the Fox?"

"You've heard him called that, have you?"

"I have," Lord Diamond said. "And a few other devilish monikers."

"What do you think?" she asked, rising to her feet.

This time, her father smiled broadly. "I think I am the luckiest of men to have children who want my opinion and listen to it."

"Of course, I do. After all, you and Mother have already gone through all this in the distant past."

His smile died. "Not that distant. I'm not as old as Methuselah."

"No, Father." She hid her smile at his touch of vanity. "I didn't mean that, but I am eager to hear your estimation of Lord Foxford."

"If I didn't think him redeemable based on your mother's opinion, then he wouldn't have been allowed in our home a second time, nor found himself at my dining room table seated next to my gem of a daughter."

"What if he is a libertine through and through?" Purity couldn't help asking, realizing she was wringing her hands and immediately ceased the awful habit.

Her father looked surprised. "I don't think you believe that of the man. You are known for your fastidiousness since you were very young. Remember when you hated to get your new boots soiled and insisted I carry you everywhere for a week so they would never touch the ground? Good thing you were a little sprite!"

She threw her arms around him. "I remember that. How I loved those boots!"

"I thought you were going to say, ‘How I love my father.'"

"How I love my father," she repeated and kissed his cheek. "I am careful, to be sure. Fastidious, as you say, about most things."

He cocked his head and waited.

"I confess, I am also demanding of those around me, simply because I believe it makes life more pleasant when everyone is behaving as civilly as they can."

She took a deep breath. "In my opinion, Lord Foxford has been honest when saying he is seriously looking for a wife and will be a devoted husband once he marries. If I didn't believe that, then I would no longer be helping him to improve himself and to find the correct lady."

"And if you turn out to be the correct lady, then what?" her father asked.

"If I were to become his wife, I ... I would be happy," she admitted.

Her father shrugged. "That's all you can hope for, as long as you follow your heart."

"You make it sound easy."

He laughed. "Oh, no, daughter. Take it from me, your ancient papa. It wasn't an easy path for your mother and me, and I don't think it was particularly smooth for Clarity and her Hollidge, either. No reason yours should be any different, but it will be worth it if you get your heart's fondest desire in the end."

Matthew was thrilled when Purity accepted his invitation to an outdoor gala at Syon House. A sumptuous picnic would be presented along the river's edge, along with sporting activities, such as bowls, pall-mall, and archery.

Not a public event, only those with a ticket could attend. Still, it was a large enough gathering they might keep close company without their every word being overheard. Perhaps, they would promenade amongst the two hundred acres of parkland, forty of which were gardens. And into these, a determined man and woman could vanish for privacy.

However, Matthew had not been granted permission to collect Lady Purity and her chaperone. He had to settle for meeting her there, since her entire family had decided to attend, and they were naturally riding in the family's coach.

Instead for company, Quinn was hunkered down, eyes closed, on the other side of Matthew's brougham, looking abysmal. His friend procured a ticket because he had his eye on some lady from the Diamonds' dinner party, although Matthew couldn't remember which one. Quinn had expressed his gladness Matthew hadn't collected him in his open-air curricle, curled up, and fallen asleep.

Matthew only wished he could have brought Diana. But even if he was ready to present his daughter to his future wife, the gala was for adults only.

Luckily, the day dawned brightly, but the clouds blowing across the sun momentarily caused a chill before they floated away, threatening as usual. Any sunny day in England might be also a very wet one before bedtime.

At one o'clock, they arrived at the grounds of the Duke of Northumberland's Syon House. Matthew kicked Quinn's boot, and his friend roused himself, still looking the worse for wear. Why the man was rarely denounced in The Times when he was carousing most nights till dawn, Matthew couldn't fathom. Maybe after the rags discussed his own bad behavior, there was neither ink nor space for Quinn's.

"My head aches, but my spirit is strong to enjoy the day," his friend announced as they descended to the lawn. Quinn stretched, yawned, and set off at a jaunty pace that would let no one know Matthew had pounded upon his door and waited half an hour for him to get out of bed and dress.

Spying the Diamonds, Matthew stopped to stare at the vision that was Lady Purity in a stunning saffron-colored gown with the bluest ribbon trim. She was an exotic flower amongst the English roses, as every other lady seemed to be in pale pastel.

When he realized he was gawking, he set his feet in motion and joined their group, which was larger than he had anticipated.

"Greetings and good day," he said to one and all.

In quick succession, he was introduced to her younger sisters, one of whom was of similar appearance to Purity and her father, while the other was the image of her mother with flaming red hair.

Before they could head toward the festivities, her eldest sister, Viscountess Hollidge arrived with her husband. Another round of greetings ensued, and then finally, Matthew could fall into step with the object of his desire while the others led the way.

"You came with an entire entourage," he quipped.

"I suppose it seems that way," she agreed, appearing relaxed and joyful. She was mirroring Matthew's heart that day. "To me," she continued, "it is normal, even a little lacking when my brother isn't with us."

"And do you hope for a large family of your own, if I may ask?"

"You may, and I do," she answered when he had fully expected a reprimand for the personal question. "And you, my lord?" she asked.

"I will accept whatever offspring are given to me," he answered, thinking he ought to mention Diana. But then a conversation regarding her mother would ensue, and he didn't feel like going into that entire tale. Not at the start of a light-hearted occasion.

First thing, though, he wanted to clear the air, no matter how impossible that was in London proper. There, ten miles to the west in Brentford, where it was literally cleaner air, he could clear it in the figurative sense, too.

"I apologize for my overly exuberant display after your performance at the party. I was wrapped up in my admiration for you, not realizing I would cause embarrassment."

"I knew you meant no harm," she said. "I only kept my distance the remainder of the evening to tamp down any whispers that might immediately begin."

"That was prudently done of you," he agreed, although he was starting not to give a damn about who whispered what.

"To that point," he said, daring to broach the subject, "as I mentioned in the past, I have been seeking a wife. And while I appreciate all your attempts to civilize me, I think I would like to bring our lessons to an end."

"Is that so?" she asked a little stiffly. "And yet your exuberance, as you called it, plainly demonstrated your need for further etiquette instruction."

He laughed. "I fear all the tutoring in the world won't make me anywhere near as perfect as you, a most proper person who knows the correct response in every situation."

"That makes me sound insufferable," she said quietly. "Or fastidious, as my father rightly thinks me."

"No, not at all." He stopped and made her stop, too. He couldn't abide by her doubting her appeal. "You are wonderful, kitten."

She gave a strange gasping laugh, her blue eyes flashing. "I thank you, Lord Foxford." She grinned at him and put her hand up to shield her eyes, for the sun was directly over his shoulder. "Then why do you wish to stop our lessons?"

He grinned back. His heart was experiencing a strange ache, which he attributed to standing in the open air with a beautiful woman of whom he had grown immeasurably fond. It was so much more satisfying than even tupping a skilled courtesan, whom he knew nothing about nor wished to know.

"Because I would far rather court you, and I hope if you stop seeing me as your hopeless student, you might consider me as a suitor."

Purity didn't dismiss him out of hand. She blinked, and then — wonder of wonders — she nodded ever so slightly.

"Is that a yes ?"

"I am considering your request," she said seriously.

Matthew nearly put his hands upon her waist so he could lift her in the air and twirl her around. Of course, she read something of his wild thoughts on his face and took a step back. Then she glanced to see where her family was.

"We ought to catch up with the rest of my group," she told him.

Matthew didn't mind. She had all but said she would marry him.

Perhaps not. Yet it was a far cry from the first time he went to her home when she flatly denied him any possibility of ever courting her. In fact, he was proud of how far he'd come.

And with that victory, he settled down to enjoy the afternoon. They participated in the games set out for invited guests. With her family, they played pall-mall. Lady Hollidge and her husband outscored the rest of them. There were rowboats for those so inclined, including Lord and Lady Diamond, and Matthew beat Purity and her younger sisters at bowls.

The weather held, despite clouds gathering down river toward the Channel. When it was time for the picnic, brought in wagons from the kitchens of Syon House by a veritable army of staff, they had all worked up an appetite.

Feasting on sandwiches of roast chicken and sliced tongue, along with meat pies of every variety, it was easy to believe themselves at a club or an inn. Salad, cold vegetables, and pickled eggs rounded out the offerings with loaf after loaf of bread and light, creamy butter. Along with sweet cider and lemonade, it was the ideal outdoor luncheon.

Matthew was seated between Purity and her redheaded sister at one of the many tables set out, and he had no need to speak a word through the whole meal since the Diamond family never stopped chattering. From their father, he learned about the house's Georgian renovations, using the same Lansdowne House architect, Robert Adam.

Making eye contact with the other quiet male figure, Lord Hollidge, they shared a moment's understanding of being on the outside. Matthew thought he would be a good man to get to know in the future.

And then to everyone's delight, wandering musicians came down to the picnic site from the house, a flutist, a violinist, and a mandolin player.

"Like a medieval banquet," the youngest sister, Miss Brilliance, declared.

Dessert was offered. Small cakes, lemon biscuits, custard tarts, and more, until Matthew wondered how any of them would ever stand again.

As if knowing his thoughts, Purity set down her empty lemonade glass, picked her gloves off her lap, and rose to her feet.

"I need to walk," she announced as the men scrambled to get up. Then she glanced at him. "It is good for one's digestion."

Turning her back, she politely tugged on her gloves out of his view before looking again at him with a questioning glance.

"I wholeheartedly agree," he said and offered her his arm, hoping it was the correct thing to do. For a moment, their glances locked. And then, under the watchful eyes of her parents, she wrapped her arm under his.