Disconcerted by her abject display of gratitude, Heath gently drew the girl to her feet, assuring her that he didn’t want recompense, that serving his housekeeper well would be payment enough.
When Betty could at last be pried away from him and had left the parlor, still sniffling with joy, Lily stood there gazing at him, her expression soft.
“I cannot thank you enough, Heath,” she murmured in a voice rife with gratitude.
Heath stilled as he became lost in those melting dark eyes of hers. Struggling against the urge to take Lily in his arms, he merely shrugged. “Don’t refine on it.”
“Of course I will refine on it. You may possibly have saved her life, and you undoubtedly saved her baby’s life.” Lily hesitated. “Such generosity is rare, especially coming from a nobleman.”
His mouth twisted at her unconscious disparagement of his class. “You may make a philanthropist out of me yet,” he said lightly.
Lily cocked her head as she studied him thoughtfully. “I imagine that would be a very good thing. Just think, Heath, you could put your enormous wealth to noble purpose. There are so many people who could benefit…not to mention the immense satisfaction of doing a kindness for others.”
It was even more satisfying to win her regard, Heath reflected. When Lily looked at him that way, he was willing to give away his entire fortune.
Heath shook his head mentally at the image of him doling out alms to the poor and oppressed, yet the thought of sharing Lily’s cause held surprising appeal. She had accused him of wanting to play hero, and it was true; he wanted to be a hero in her eyes. And he wanted the right to slay her dragons.
“Will you stay for tea?” she asked in that same soft voice.
He hadn’t meant to remain, but he found himself agreeing. And as Lily led the way upstairs to Fleur’s sitting room, her words about putting his wealth to noble purpose echoed in his mind.
The possibility hadn’t seriously occurred to him before now. No doubt because he’d been wrapped up in his own pursuits.
Perhaps, however, it was time to take stock of his life. Seeing Lily’s concern for the less fortunate, Heath couldn’t help but question his own goals and desires.
He had been born to vast privilege and wealth, receiving too much, too easily, with too few responsibilities to keep him grounded. His doting mother had spoiled him as a child, and like her, he’d been more concerned with his own selfish gratification.
And after losing his mother when he was ten, he’d taken refuge from his anguish in anger, rebelling against his father’s dictates at every opportunity, sometimes on sheer principle, recklessly pushing the boundaries of civilized behavior to the point of physical danger.
But even as he grew older, he hadn’t used his talents or resources very wisely. He’d treated life as a game, with the quest for pleasure and excitement his primary aim. He’d been adamant that he wouldn’t become like his sire, mired in a grim, joyless, passionless existence.
But Heath could see now that he’d gone overboard trying to repudiate his father’s influence. And he realized he ought to make more of his life.
Indeed, Lily was the first thing he’d ever had to work for, to strive to win-and the challenge had opened his eyes. Thanks to her inspiration, he wanted to contribute something productive to society, to a cause greater than himself. She made him want to do better, to be better, to prove himself worthy of her.
Perhaps when he returned home, he would pen a message to Tess Blanchard and ask how he could aid her charities-
Heath’s ruminations were interrupted just then when they reached the sitting room. Surprisingly, Fanny was there with Fleur and Chantel. The women had been speaking in low tones, but all conversation stopped when Heath entered behind Lily.
&nb
sp; And when Fanny turned her face toward them, Lily went rigid with shock.
The Cyprian’s lower lip was split and bloody, Heath saw, while bruises in the shape of fingerprints disfigured the creamy skin covering her jaw.
“Good God, Fanny-whatever happened?” Lily exclaimed in tones of anger and dismay.
Obviously embarrassed, Fanny ducked her head. “It is nothing, Lily, truly.”
“What do you mean, nothing? Someone struck you!”
“It wasn’t like that… Mick just didn’t realize his own strength.”
Lily took a step forward, her fists curled in rage, and Heath knew she was moments away from exploding.
Chapter Thirteen
I have no intention of wedding him, but I confess that the notion of becoming his mistress has a certain appeal.