Free Cupid's Mistake (Cupid Regency Romance) by Karen Harbaugh

recipient.
    Cassandra bit her lip. "I. . . I have seen some at the meetings I go to."
    Shown off like a freak at a raree-show, Blytheland thought with distaste. But he supposed it was an effective way of eliciting sympathy for one 's cause. He nodded.
    " A worthy cause, Miss Hathaway. I commend you."
    Her smile lit up her face, and it was as if the sun had come out from the clouds again. Again, he nearly touched wheels with another carriage, and exasperated, gave it up.
    He turned to Cassandra. "Would you like to walk a little? I believe the ground is not damp."
    " Yes, please," Cassandra said.
    " Tim, take the reins," he said to the tiger sitting behind them as he slowed, then stopped the phaeton. They descended the carriage and walked next to the line of trees next to the roadway.
    He took Miss Hathaway 's hand and put it on his arm, and they walked in silence for a moment. He heard her sigh and he looked down at her. She had a speculative look on her face as she gazed at him, and at once he felt wary. He'd seen that look before on women's faces, and it usually meant they wished to entrap him in some manner. Was she, after all, like other young ladies with an eye toward marriage? He felt some disappointment, though, really, he should be pleased she was not above the ordinary.
    " Is there something you wish to say, Miss Hathaway?" he said. He thought of a number of set-downs he could use if she decided to flirt with him after all.
    " I was wondering . . . if, well. . ." She hesitated, and a slight blush appeared on her cheeks.
    If she asked him if he would attend some social function or other, he would definitely say no. He had too many commitments as it was. "Yes, Miss Hathaway?"
    " I was wondering if perhaps you might be interested in contributing to our charity," she said all in a rush, and her cheeks grew even more pink.
    Lord Blytheland could not help feeling some chagrin. She was not, apparently, interested in his presence anywhere at all. He felt quite the fool, thinking that she might. He wondered if perhaps he was becoming arrogant, and if it showed.
    "The poor ch—people,they are so hungry!" Cassandra looked at him pleadingly. "You don't know how horribly they've been treated, and some of them so very young, only babies!" He saw her swallow, and turn away, taking a deep breath before she continued. "Some of them fear even the kindest of approaches, thinking we come to cause them harm." She gazed at him, and he could see her eyes, wide and with a hint of tears. She touched his sleeve. "Please . . . it is a terrible thing, and should happen to no child—no one in England."
    " But of course, Miss Hathaway," he said, before he could stop himself.
    She gave him another smile of clear gratitude, and pressed his arm. A speculative look entered her eyes, and she said tentatively, "And do you think perhaps you can persuade your father to speak on the matter when he goes to Parliament?"
    Blytheland gave her a sharp look. She immediately hung her head as if in chagrin, then peeped up at him from beneath her lashes. She looked very much like a puppy who wanted to play but had gone beyond the line, Blytheland thought. And then she grinned and shrugged her shoulders.
    Blytheland burst into laughter. "You are incorrigible, Miss Hathaway!"
    " Ah, well. I thought I ought to try."
    Blytheland opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated. He wondered what her reaction would be if he did as she asked. She would smile at him again. He realized suddenly that he liked to see her smile; her mouth curved in at the comers in a slight curl and made him want to kiss her. It was pleasant to have such an attractive companion, of course, but it was a trying thing to walk beside her and not give in to his impulse to—He let out a slow breath and tried not to think of his impulses.
    Well, it would not hurt to approach his father about the poverty in the parishes about town . . . and it was not as if the duke was opposed to such things, after all.