“What is it?” Chantel asked. “A volume of sonnets?”
“No,” Lily answered as she read the title. “Travels in the South Sea Islands by George Wilkins.”
“I thought you would prefer this to sonnets,” Heath commented. “Wilkins is a member of the Royal Society and a protege of Sir Joseph Banks. His recollections of the native cultures in the Pacific make for some very intriguing reading.”
Chantel looked puzzled. “Why would Lily care about the condition of heathens in some foreign sea?”
Heath’s amused gaze met Lily’s again. “Because she claims to be an adventurer at heart,” he answered.
“Is that true, Lily?” Chantel queried in a tone that expressed dismay.
Lily smiled. That tone was the same one her mother had regularly used when lamenting her daughter’s thirst for adventure. “I am afraid so, Chantel. But you needn’t worry; it isn’t contagious. How did you come upon this book, my lord?”
“Wilkins is a colleague of mine. And I am honored to call Sir Joseph a friend.”
Lily couldn’t help but be impressed, although her friends didn’t recognize the significance.
“Who is Sir Joseph?” Fleur wanted to know.
Lily glanced over at her. “He is the president of the Royal Society, Fleur.” The Royal Society was a learned organization for the promotion of the natural sciences and had arranged various scientific expeditions around the globe over the past several decades. “Sir Joseph also once sailed with Captain James Cook in the Endeavor to explore the Pacific and the coast of Australia.”
“And you are interested in such things?”
“Well, yes. But I confess surprise that Lord Claybourne is.”
Beside her, Heath leaned back in his seat. “My friend Arden is an avid member of the Society, and I became involved at his urging. My chief interest is in exploration. I’ve helped fund three expeditions of research vessels thus far, including this most recent one of Wilkins’s.”
Lily eyed him in admiration, recalling that her first impression of Heath had been as a bold adventurer and explorer. “I didn’t realize you were interested in exploration.”
“There is a great deal you don’t know about me.”
Fleur broke in once more. “I would say this gift is surely worth a point, Lord Claybourne, since it is quite thoughtful and inventive. A conventional courtier would have brought Lily poetry. It shows that you are attuned to her true desires.”
“I most certainly have her true desires in mind,” Heath murmured so softly that only Lily could hear.
At his deliberately provocative remark, she sent him a quelling glance and resolved to change the subject, not wishing to dwell on the disheartening fact that he now needed only two more points to win the game. “Thank you for the book, my lord. I shall be pleased to read it. Now would you care to report on your efforts to find attendees for our soiree tomorrow evening?”
“I count thirteen who have promised to make an appearance.”
Chantel clapped her hands together with delight. “That is capital, my lord! With your candidates as well as Fanny’s, we should have nearly thirty eligible guests in attendance.”
Heath’s smile was modest. “One of the candidates purports to be an old acquaintance of yours, Miss Amour. Viscount Poole.”
“My heavens! I haven’t seen Poole for a donkey’s age. His wife objected to his…er…liaison with me, so he gave me up.”
“He is widowed now,” Heath informed her.
“Yes, I had heard that.” Chantel gave a bemused sigh, as if remembering her colorful past. “Lord Poole always was one of my favorite courtiers. Not the most original lover but a jolly sort and by far the best poet. He regularly won the contests for my favors by composing sonnets for me, do you remember, Fleur?”
“I do remember.” A speculative look entered Fleur’s eyes. “Perhaps you can turn his attendance tomorrow night to your advantage and renew your former association with him.”
“I will certainly try. But it will be delightful to see him again, in any event.”
“You will have to look your very best,” Fleur advised. “Age has not been our friend, as you well know.”
“Yes, but Fanny’s dresser can work miracles with cosmetics and coiffures. And Lily has sprung for marvelous new raiments for me.” Chantel smiled at Lily. “I wish your own gown was half so fine, my dear.”
“I shall make do with a simple evening gown,” Lily replied. “Our pupils are the ones who must shine.”