“I suppose so.” Sophie glanced toward the front entrance hall. “Actually, I was just leaving, my lord.”
“Surely you can spare me a moment. Allow me to escort you to your carriage at least.”
Sophie hesitated, reluctant to have her aunt’s footmen see Lord Jack. “It is not my carriage. My aunt lends me her barouche to come here.”
He looked curious. “She condones your visits with Martha?”
“I would not say that exactly. But she told me about the Arundel Home in the first place.”
“I thought you said your parents expelled your maid from your household. Do they approve of your altruism?”
Sophie winced at the reminder of her subterfuge. She’d had to conceal her efforts at remaking Martha’s gown and smuggle the garment from the house in her satchel, along with the primers and novels she used for tutoring. “They don’t know. They think I am visiting the lending library. I like to read a great deal, so it is not unusual for me to patronize the library and local bookshops.”
“Ah, a closeted rebel as well as a bluestocking.”
His ragging brought a smile to her lips, which she tried to suppress, not wanting to encourage him. “If I recall, you are also keeping your visits here a secret,” she pointed out.
The grin he fired at her was lazy and warm, spreading heat through her. “So I am. Count me impressed, by the way. It’s uncommonly broad-minded of you to visit here, particularly in defiance of your parents’ wishes. I think your generosity commendable.”
“I could say the same of yours.” A small sigh escaped her. “I wish I could do more for Martha. She will need a number of things for the baby when it comes—blankets, clothing, a cradle—and my pin money likely will not be enough to cover the costs.”
“Why don’t you ask your aunt for more funds?”
“She has done enough for me already, paying all the expenses for my Season. And the clothes allowance she provides me is not mine to give away. Besides, my aunt mainly supports my efforts because she knows my father would not approve.”
“Do I detect a conflict there?”
Sophie bit her tongue, aware she had said too much about her family affairs. Lord Jack was practically a stranger, after all, despite the inexplicable affinity she felt for him.
“You needn’t worry about Martha any longer,” he assured her. “I will see to it that she has ample funds for the babe.”
Sophie opened her mouth to decline, then promptly shut it again. She couldn’t turn down his offer simply out of misplaced pride. Besides, he came from a world of privilege and fortune and could well afford the expense.
“Thank you, my lord,” she murmured. “Now, if you will forgive me, I must go. My family will bec
ome overly inquisitive if I am late returning home.”
“I truly do need to speak with you.”
She gave him a quizzical glance, waiting.
“Where do you stand with Dunmore?” Lord Jack asked. “I’ve heard your engagement may be announced shortly. Is that true?”
Sophie raised an eyebrow, wondering why he was grilling her on so personal a matter. “Some might consider that question impertinent, even rude. What concern is it of yours?”
“I’m making it my concern. I want to know how much time I have to determine if we’re a match.”
Not comprehending, Sophie eyed him in puzzlement just as a group of women exited the auditorium. They nodded shyly and curtsied to her and Lord Jack, but once they passed, Sophie said in a low voice, “This is not a conversation to be held in a public corridor.”
“I agree we need privacy. Come with me.”
Taking her elbow unexpectedly, he turned her away from the entrance hall, toward the Home’s rear offices. After a moment’s resistance, Sophie decided to accompany him. Of course she ought not be alone with so bold a rogue as Lord Jack Wilde. She knew he was wicked, wicked trouble. But she badly wanted to hear what he had to say. And she had little doubt he would air their personal business right there in the hall if she refused.
Therefore, she let him guide her into the director’s office, which they found empty.
Lord Jack shut the door behind them, then turned to her. “Now, about your engagement … Rumor says the duke’s proposal is imminent. Is that correct?”
She gave an uncomfortable shrug. “It would be presumptuous of me to assume so.”