Lily didn’t know if he owned a ship, but she knew he was a sportsman. The stories of Claybourne’s sporting exploits were repeated in all the drawing rooms. And Winifred had been singing his praises the entire day, attempting to rouse Lily’s interest in targeting him for her husband.
She had absolutely no desire to marry the marquess, however, or any other man for that matter. Even though she was forced to admit that Claybourne was the most compelling man she had ever met-which was an ideal reason to keep away from him.
As soon as the waltz was over, Lily had extricated herself from his unnerving company.
She intended to leave the ball early in any case, to spend the night with her good friend Tess Blanchard, a genteel young lady who was also a teacher at the Freemantle Academy.
After saying farewell to Arabella and then drinking two more glasses of champagne in quick succession-Lily had needed the libation for fortitude and to hold back her tears of sadness-she made her way to one of the re
ar stable wings, formerly used for broodmares, to feed Boots and check on her kittens. It was blessedly quiet here, set away from the rest of the yard.
Her head was still swimming from the overindulgence of champagne, along with her potent memories of Lord Claybourne. The feel of him as they’d waltzed-sinewy and powerful, all lithe grace-had uncustomarily flustered her.
“But I trust I will never see him again after t’night,” Lily muttered as she returned the black kitten to the box. “Or at least that I will never again be the victim of Winifred’s humiliating mash…matchmaking schemes.”
It was then that Lily heard a faint noise from below, like a throat being cleared.
Wondering who had entered the stable, she shifted her position to look over the loft’s edge. Her heart skipped a violent beat when she spied the broad-shouldered Marquess of Claybourne leaning against a post, his arms folded, his head cocked to one side.
When her head suddenly started spinning dizzily, Lily drew back in haste. Oh, dear heaven. Had he overheard her lament that he was too charming? What other incriminating observations had she made about him?
Holding a hand to her throbbing temple, Lily slowly peered over the side again. “M-my lord, what are you doing here?”
“I saw you leave the ball and wondered why you would visit the stables.”
“You followed me?” Lily asked blankly.
Claybourne gave a bland nod. “Guilty as charged.”
Her eyes narrowed. “So you were shamelessly eavesdropping?”
“I was curious. Do you always talk to yourself, Miss Loring?”
“Sometimes. But in this case I am speaking to the cat…Actually cats. Boots the stable cat recently had kittens.”
“Would you care to explain what you are doing up there in the loft?”
“If you mush…must know…I am feeding her.”
“You came here to feed the stable cat?” His tone held surprise and a hint of disbelief.
“Should I have let her starve?” Lily asked rhetorically. “Boots is an excellent mouser, but at the moment she has more important tasks to occupy her, namely taking care of her kittens.”
His handsome mouth quirked. “Do you mean to remain there with the cats?”
“No. I will come down as soon as my head clears. I seem…to have drunk a bit too much champagne.” To her chagrin, she was too dizzy just now to climb safely down the ladder to escape Lord Claybourne’s unwanted presence.
“Then you won’t mind if I join you,” he said, moving across the aisle to put a foot on the lowest wooden rung.
Yes, she minded! Lily sat up abruptly, wondering how she could prevent him from imposing his company upon her. “You cannot climb up here, my lord!” she exclaimed, yet her protest obviously had no effect, since his head soon appeared above the ledge.
“I believe I can. I plan to keep you company.”
With his torso in view, he paused to survey her with interest.
“You will get your coat dusty,” Lily said lamely, eying his elegantly tailored evening coat of burgundy superfine-Weston, no doubt-that fitted those magnificent shoulders to perfection.
“My coat will survive.” His gaze raked over her own attire. “What about you? You are wearing a ball gown.”