She turned her head and waved, looking… so Lydia-like.
Seeing her again… it was too much. He set his jaw and increased his pace, refusing to soften just because he would be in the presence of sunshine and light.
He had no option but to work with her… to ensure this little venture was a successful one.
He’d been given no choice but to step in like some sort of hero. Jeremy shook his head. That wasn’t why he was here. That wasn’t why he was doing any of this.
Fucking Baxton. He glanced up and down the street, looking for earl’s conveyance, and seeing none, cursed under his breath when Lydia turned to offer him one of those damn smiles.
“Tell me you aren’t here alone.” His gaze roved down her lush figure.
She could wear one of her maid’s gowns, rub dirt on her face, and go barefoot, for all he cared, but Lydia Cockfield did not belong anywhere near White Chapel.
“My driver is around the corner, so I’m not really alone. Lady Baxton sent word this morning that Little Alex wasn’t feeling well, so they won’t be coming. And since I didn’t want to put this off…” She shrugged. “The door’s open. Have you heard back from your engineers yet?”
Jeremy clenched his fists together, tempted to tell Baxton precisely where he could shove any other reputation-repairing suggestions he might offer in the future. If the numbers weren’t good enough for his potential investors then…
He sighed.
Because he needed the investors.
“I have.” He stepped toward the warehouse, and the door opened outward with a scraping sound. The scent of the docks—tar, whale blubber, and… something that distinctly resembled decades of perspiration—hung even heavier inside than it had on the street.
“And…?” She skipped along beside him.
“No major issues.”
She didn’t appear surprised, nor did she smirk victoriously as she entered the building. He’d known she wouldn’t—not unless he goaded her. As long as he’d known Lydia, she’d been sweet, kind, and exhibited perfect manners.
Hell, she’d practically been raised to be a countess—his, to be specific.
It hadn’t been discussed openly, especially after the fire that swept through Heart Place, killing her parents when Lydia and her twin were only four and leaving Blackheart to take over the dukedom.
It wasn’t long after the fire that his own father passed.
But before that, there had been an unspoken understanding between their parents that he’d marry the oldest twin. He could have dispelled it, but, as Lydia had grown from a child into a young woman, he’d become more and more fond of the idea.
He swallowed hard, disgusted with himself for missing the friendships they’d all formed in the wake of their personal tragedies.
Friendships that were nothing more than ashes now.
Jeremy stared up at the ceiling, some thirty feet up, and then swept his gaze around the empty warehouse. Fluttering sounds had him noticing the white droppings on the floor. Of course, her orphanage was already filling up with all manner of feathered friends.
Wonderful.
“The open space allows for all sorts of possibilities.”
Her enthusiasm was unmistakable in how she all but danced into the empty area. Watching her, bittersweet longing crept over him—the memory of watching her dance under other circumstances. At one of the village country dances, and then later, with her brother at her come out.
Jeremy had been unable to request a dance for himself, as he’d already been in mourning. But she’d known he’d been watching, and she’d caught his eye as she twirled around and sent him a dazzling smile.
He shouldn’t have attended at all but he hadn’t been able to help himself. Because she asked me to be there.
“The kitchen will be built in back.” She pointed toward a staircase. “Classrooms and sleeping chambers upstairs.”
“What do you intend to use this massive area for?”
“Playing.” She smiled back at him. “It will be safe, dry, supervised, and when necessary, can be converted for fundraising events. But we’ll be able to host garden parties as well. There is an area outside for a vegetable garden, but there must also be flowers.”
He cocked an eyebrow at that, and she lifted her chin defiantly.
“Beauty is one of life’s necessities. It soothes wounded souls.”
For an instant, he saw it through her unjaded eyes. But only for an instant.
“These… children. They have never been taught right from wrong. There will be discipline issues. They will likely rob the orphanage blind and the older ones will bully the younger ones.”
He almost felt bad as some of the excitement left her eyes. But it was better this way. Better she did not enter into this venture wearing rose-tinted spectacles.
“You said it yourself,” she finally broke the silence. “Some things are worth it.”
She was not broken; she was not ready to give up. She appeared to be as determined as ever.
He shoved his hands into his pockets, and then followed her as she strolled across the room, their shoes echoing off the ceiling and walls. “It’s dangerous, Lydia.”
“I know.” She spun around to face him. “I’m well aware, as is Lady Baxter. We have budgeted for security and close supervision—both during the daytime and at night. The children will have proper teachers and a nurse. I can afford the building and much of the renovation. But after that… That’s where your money comes in. At least until we can begin hosting art exhibitions and concerts to attract other sponsors.”
“So, you won’t be draining my coffers indefinitely.”
“We will not, unless of course, you cannot bear to walk away from us…” They’d been teasing, but at these words, the spark in her eyes flickered and she bit her bottom lip.
Feeling a twinge of guilt, Jeremy ignored the hurt in her eyes and rocked on his heels. She had obviously done her research. Her expectations appeared to be realistic, and her conviction to seeing this through seemed firm.
She said beauty soothed the soul. Her beauty would soothe any man’s soul.
But not mine.
“Baxter sent the terms over yesterday.”
She jerked her head up, blue eyes clear and intelligent.
God, he’d missed her.
After spending less than an hour in her company, he was having difficulty summoning the great bitterness he held for her brothers. He’d felt an inkling of it when she’d first stepped into Baxter’s office, but today…
All he saw was her.
He would help her with her orphanage. Someone had to. It might as well be him. Blackheart was a fool for leaving her with no one but an elderly aunt to keep her in check.
“Have you decided then?” She didn’t sound timid. She sounded as though she was presenting him with a brilliant opportunity.
“I’ll provide the funds.”
Lydia’s first inclination was to bounce on her toes in excitement and clasp her hands together in joy. Her second inclination was to stifle the urge.
But this was Jeremy.
She responded with something in between. “That’s marvelous!”
But she did not jump forward and throw her arms around his neck as she’d really like to. And she absolutely did not press her mouth against his.