The Lady's Second-Chance Suitor

by Scott, Regina

  Even if she had to face down Rob in the process.

  Though he probably wouldn’t be there, she consoled herself as they set out in the carriage the next morning. He hadn’t frequented the spa before. Even if he’d grown wiser with age, why would he show up now?

  Lark had been the one to accompany her mother eight years ago, leaving Hester and Rosemary with their uncle. Rosemary had kept busy with her studies, but Hester had worried. A heart was nothing to toy with. That her mother’s might be failing had kept her up several nights in a row. But the daily doses of the spa water and the change in diet and exercise Doctor Chance had prescribed had done wonders for her mother then. Surely it would be no different now.

  And her mother was right. They had much to discuss with Jesslyn about Rosemary’s wedding.

  Any concerns she had were hard to maintain as they walked into the spa. It was such a welcoming place, with pale blue walls, an elegant bronze wall clock, and columns interspersed between potted palms. White wicker chairs here and there encouraged attendees to sit and chat or gaze out the windows looking down to the cove. The tinkle of water in the stone fountain in one corner was offset by the music from the white-lacquered harpsichord in the other. Voices murmured in conversation that was punctuated by laughter.

  Jesslyn came to greet them the moment she spotted them. “Mother Denby, Hester, what a lovely surprise. How might I be of assistance?”

  “We must talk about Rosemary’s wedding, dear,” her mother said. “But first, perhaps a glass of your fine water.”

  “And Mother mentioned seeing Doctor Bennett,” Hester added with a glance around the spa, looking for the lanky physician.

  “Oh, that won’t be necessary,” her mother said with maddening calm. “I feel better just being here.” She nodded to Lord Featherstone, who was making his way toward them through the other guests.

  “Aunt Maudie will finish playing shortly,” Jesslyn said even as the music shut off with a crescendo of sound. “I’m sure she would be glad to pour you a glass.”

  Her mother set off across the room. Jesslyn’s aunt, Maudlyn Tully trotted to meet her. Lord Featherstone changed directions to join them as well.

  Hester shook her head watching as the two older women and the baron exchanged pleasantries. “I begin to believe I’ve been duped.”

  Jesslyn frowned. “Why? What’s happened?”

  “Mother insisted on coming today. First, she worried about the wedding, then she claimed she wasn’t feeling well and needed to see the physician. She implied it was her chest again.”

  Jesslyn paled. Her late mother had been hostess eight years ago when Hester’s mother had first had trouble with palpitations, but Jesslyn would remember that time. That’s when she and Lark had first met.

  “Doctor Bennett has an opening at half past eleven,” she told Hester. “Do you think she would consent to be seen?”

  “I would feel better if you could convince her,” Hester assured her.

  Jess nodded. “Consider it done. I know Lark will worry too if we don’t. And Rosemary, of course, even in the midst of the preparations.”

  Hester smiled. “I knew it. She’s already asked for your help, hasn’t she.”

  “Well, she has a short time to prepare,” Jess said, sharing her smile. “I understand Lord Howland rode for London this morning. While his staff is at her disposal, the bulk of the planning will fall on Rosemary.”

  “Mother and I are ready to help as well,” Hester said. She glanced across the room to where her mother and Lord Featherstone were drinking the water Jess’s aunt had handed them. Aunt Maudie, as she had asked Hester and Rosemary to call her recently, was a small older woman who tended to dress all in black. She had a way of pronouncing doom and gloom as well. She’d lost her sailor husband early in their marriage and retreated into fancy. Hester sometimes envied her that ability.

  “I could use your help in the meantime,” Jess said, leaning closer. “What do you think of Lord Peverell?”

  Her mouth went dry. She slowly moved her gaze to Jess and prayed nothing in it would betray her. “What do you mean?”

  “You know I’m a matchmaker at heart,” Jess said, blue eyes shining with purpose. “A young, wealthy, handsome, titled gentleman in the area is simply too good to forego. What sort of lady do you think he might prefer?”

  She fully intended to protest that she had no idea, but words popped out of her mouth before she thought better of them. “Titian haired, the brighter red the better, even if the color comes from a bottle. Ample curves well displayed. Someone who appreciates the more vivid colors—flame, chartreuse, goldenrod. Who guffaws at even a minimum of wit. And no one terribly intelligent.”

  Jess’s brows went up. “Truly? I don’t know whether we’ve ever had a gentleman who preferred his ladies so…obvious.”

  “Well, then he shall be your challenge,” Hester said, nose coming up.

  Jess tapped her chin with one finger as if keeping time with her thoughts. “Strange. He struck me more as a gentleman who would value honesty, character, and kindness.”

  “No,” Hester said. “He didn’t strike me that way at all.”

  Jess dropped her hand. “Well, a challenge, as you say. That’s why I could use your help.”

  “Me?” Hester took a step back. “I’m no matchmaker.”

  “No,” Jess allowed, “but you are a good listener. Rosemary and Lark have always said so. Perhaps you could talk to him, ferret out the true Lord Peverell.”

  She could not know what she was asking. “I doubt I could determine the true Lord Peverell. Besides, our paths are not likely to cross often enough for any serious conversation.”

  Jess grinned at her. “You might be surprised. He just walked in.”

  Chapter Six

  Rob wasn’t sure why his sister had been so determined to visit the spa that morning, but he couldn’t believe his good fortune. Hester stood not far inside the door, dressed in a blue redingote the color of the Channel before a storm, misty green skirts peeping out below. Beside her was a tall table with a massive book open upon it. He seemed to recall his father mentioning a Welcome Book, which listed all who had come to the spa. If only he could count on a welcome from Hester.

  The magistrate, James Howland, certainly hadn’t been welcoming when Rob had gone to see him that morning. A tall, muscular fellow with short-cropped blond hair and a commanding presence, he’d listened as the two had met in his study in his home near the church, and Rob explained the rumors of smugglers and the blue light at sea.

  “We had some trouble with smugglers earlier this summer,” Howland admitted, leaning back in his chair behind a desk that was far less cluttered than Rob’s. “That gang was routed, and I haven’t heard of another moving in. But I’ll let Larkin Denby, our Riding Surveyor, know about your concerns. He can post someone to keep an eye on your pier.”

  “I’ll take care of that,” Rob told him.

  Howland nodded. “Very well. Just see that you report any further trouble to me.”

  Rob wasn’t used to taking orders any more than Elizabeth was, but he could see the wisdom of it this time. Still, something about the way the magistrate watched him, as if measuring him for a new suit or assessing his character, made him wonder what else the fellow knew about trouble in the area. The mighty Howlands had ever tolerated the Peverells when the two families had happened to be in the area at the same time. Was something more afoot this time?

  Now Elizabeth drew in a deep breath beside him, as if finding the Grand Pump Room soothing. “How lovely. And so many people for this time of year. I wonder if we’ll find anyone we know.”

  Rob tore his gaze off Hester. “Looking for Mr. Donner?”

  Elizabeth widened her eyes. “Donner? Why, I suppose he might be here. Oh, look. There’s Mrs. Todd.”

  He didn’t resist as his sister led him to the desk.

  The spa hostess, the younger Mrs. Denby, smiled prettily at them. “Miss Peverell, my lord. Welcome
. We were just talking about you.”

  Hester went rigid, which only raised his curiosity.

  “Oh?” Elizabeth asked, glancing between them.

  The color was draining from Hester’s face. How could he help her? Perhaps by taking the attention off her.

  “Wondering how to reach my tailor to copy my stunning coat?” he asked, flipping the dun-colored tails for effect.

  Mrs. Denby laughed. “Your coat is quite exceptional, my lord, but no.”

  “I should leave you to your duty, Jesslyn,” Hester put in, only to pick up her skirts and rush across the room as if hounds were nipping at her heels.

  “I tend to have that effect on her,” Rob told the hostess as Elizabeth frowned after Hester.

  Mrs. Denby cocked her head, golden curls catching the light. “And why would that be, sir? You seem to have a ready address and a polished demeanor. And there is the matter of your stunning coat.”

  Rob chuckled. “Your point, Mrs. Denby. I seem to have put myself on Mrs. Todd’s bad side.”

  She straightened. “I wasn’t aware Mrs. Todd had a bad side. Hester is known for her warm heart and sweet character.”

  “I’ll speak to her,” Elizabeth offered. Without waiting for Rob’s reply, she headed toward the fountain, where Hester had joined her mother and Lord Featherstone. The three smiled and spoke, as if they were old friends come to reacquaint themselves. An older woman, Mrs. Tully, if he remembered correctly, swooped away from them like a raven and swung in his direction.

  “And what brings you to my spa today, my lord?” Mrs. Denby asked. “Introductions? Interests?”

  The questions were said in a honeyed voice, but he heard the stone beneath them. She expected candid answers. Something inside him was determined to give them to her.

  “My sister expressed a desire to join your company,” he said. “But I begin to think I had another reason for accompanying her.” He leaned closer. “Could you convince Mrs. Todd to go riding with me this afternoon?”

  As soon as the words left his mouth, he wanted to call them back. He was the viscount. His thoughts must be lofty, learned. His time should be spent improving his properties, his family, and his nation. So why was his gaze once more drawn to the lady laughing over something his sister had said?

  He glanced back at the hostess to find her smiling at him, as if she knew better than he did why he’d made his request.

  “I fear it’s too late in the day for such plans,” she commiserated. “Besides, Mrs. Todd and her mother no longer own riding horses, only a pair to pull their coach. You would have to rent one from the livery stable or bring one of yours to town for her.”

  Disappointment bit sharply. “Yes, of course. I have heard it said I tend to be too impetuous.”

  “Impetuosity can be its own reward,” Mrs. Tully said, joining them. “So can pixie dust.”

  Pixie dust? Rob grinned at her. “Right you are. I could use some of that about now. Any idea where it could be found?”

  She leaned closer, grey eyes bright. “For the right inducement, I could lead you to it.”

  “Lord Peverell has no need for pixie dust, Aunt,” Mrs. Denby told her, though she was smiling too. “Like Lark, he knows the value of spontaneity. But I’m not sure his oldest sister has learned that lesson yet.”

  Her aunt nodded, grey curls bouncing. “Far too cautious. But she is a teacher. She values learning.”

  They were both regarding him now. What exactly were they encouraging him to do? Half the things he used to enjoy and could teach would thoroughly disrupt the peaceful spa, and most would destroy any progress he’d made with Hester.

  “Who could possibly teach the teacher?” he countered.

  Mrs. Denby fluttered her lashes. “Why, a gentleman who was hoping she might want to learn more about him.”

  Rob couldn’t help his chuckle. “Do you number matchmaking among your skills, Mrs. Denby?”

  “The mermaids claim she has some facility,” Mrs. Tully acknowledged while her niece blushed.

  “And I am very fond of both my sisters-in-law,” the spa hostess added. “I’m sure you’ve heard Rosemary Denby is to marry the Earl of Howland next week, my lord.”

  “It was the talk of the assembly last night,” he agreed.

  “Even the mermaids have mentioned it,” Mrs. Tully put in.

  “The earl plans to marry by special license,” Mrs. Denby explained, “so there’s no need for the three weeks to call the banns. They will be married here at St. Andrew’s, with the wedding breakfast to follow in the assembly hall. I imagine there will be dancing afterward.”

  She waited, and he realized she had a purpose in telling him all this.

  “As the head of the other major house in the area, I suspect I will be obliged to attend,” he mused.

  “Very likely,” she said as Mrs. Tully nodded as if he had been very clever.

  But her niece still waited, expecting him to come to some conclusion based on their discussion. She would have made as good a teacher as Hester.

  “I should also provide the bride and groom with a gift to acknowledge their union,” Rob said.

  “There’s always that pixie dust,” Mrs. Tully reminded him. “I should be able to negotiate a very good rate. Your first-borne son, perhaps?”

  “I’m sure a gift would be appreciated,” Mrs. Denby said with a look to her aunt. “Hester might have suggestions.”

  Rob’s smile curved up once more. He could only bless the woman’s intuition and willingness to interfere. “I’ll be sure to ask her.”

  “Excellent,” she said. “And do remind her that she promised to help me with a matter. She can start by taking you and Miss Peverell on a tour of the village, so you can find the perfect gift.”

  ~~~

  They were colluding against her. Hester could find no other explanation for this sudden interest in her activities. Her mother, Jesslyn, even Rob’s sister, Elizabeth, were conspiring to throw her and Rob together. They could not know the damage that might cause.

  As Lord Featherstone excused himself from their company, Rob sauntered over to them, a cat prowling his domain. Her mother was quick to greet him.

  “Lord Peverell, how nice that you would accompany your sister to the spa. A gentleman who puts the needs of family first is always to be commended. Don’t you agree, Hester?”

  “Certainly,” Hester said, willing to give him that.

  “I live to serve,” Rob assured her. “And, at the moment, I am hoping to be of service to our lovely hostess, your daughter-in-law, I believe, Mrs. Denby.”

  “Indeed she is,” Hester’s mother said with a proud look to where Jesslyn was greeting a gentleman and lady who must be Newcomers. Aunt Maudie had created the taxonomy. New arrivals were Newcomers, longtime patrons Regulars. Hester and her mother fell in the third category—Irregulars, having come often enough to be remembered.

  “The other Mrs. Denby,” Rob said with a look to Hester, “has requested that you reacquaint my sister and me with this fair village.”

  Had she indeed. More collusion. Hester clamped her lips shut, but her mother pressed a hand to her chest. “What an honor! A shame I haven’t been feeling well. I’m sure Hester can guide you.”

  Hester might not be as clever as her sister, but she would not be outwitted. She slipped an arm about her mother. “But, Mother, I wouldn’t want to leave until I know what Doctor Bennett has to say.”

  “Is it something serious?” Elizabeth asked with concern.

  “No, no,” her mother hurried to assure her. “But it’s always wise to take precautions.”

  “Yes, of course,” Elizabeth said. “Rob, we should not inconvenience Mrs. Todd today.”

  He inclined his head, and Hester nearly sagged in relief.

  “Saturday, then,” he said.

  “Saturday?” Hester squeaked.

  “I believe you teach on Friday,” he explained with all solicitation. “And I would not want to interfere with that.”
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  “Being such a patron of the school,” her mother added.

  Oh, but they were pouring it on thick!

  “And I would not want to interfere with your duties, my lord,” Hester said. “As viscount, you must have many important things to do.”

  “True,” he allowed, chin up as if he bore his burdens well. “But none more important than this. Without knowing more about the village, how can I find the perfect wedding gift for your sister and the earl?”

  Of course, that made her mother gush about his generosity all over again.

  Across the room, Aunt Maudie began playing a Mozart sonata on the harpsichord. The spritely music did nothing to soothe Hester’s frustrations. Why would Rob need to give Rosemary and the earl anything? The Howlands and the Peverells were not accorded bosom beaus, and Rosemary certainly didn’t consider him a friend.

  But perhaps Lord Howland would feel compelled to invite Rob and Elizabeth to the wedding rather than slight the only other landed family in the area. Her sister might not like the idea, but she wouldn’t be able to protest aloud without sharing Hester’s secret, and that Rosemary would never do.

  Just then, Doctor Bennett came out of one of the examining rooms at the back of the spa. A tall, studious fellow with warm brown hair, he had married her friend Abigail last month.

  “Oh, there’s the physician,” her mother caroled. “Excuse me.” She headed for his side.

  “And there’s Mrs. Greer,” Elizabeth said, craning her neck as if to catch the attention of the Spa Corporation Council president’s wife. “I must go speak to her. I’ll be back shortly.”

  She hurried off before Hester could protest.

  Rob leaned closer, until she caught the scent of the spicy cologne he wore. “I believe they are attempting to play matchmaker,” he murmured.

  “I believe they are quite mad,” Hester countered.

  He chuckled as he straightened, gaze going toward the windows as if he were fascinated by the little horseshoe-shaped cove below the village. “I take it your mother isn’t aware of our connection.”

  “We have no connection now,” Hester scolded, careful to keep her voice low. “And no, I didn’t tell her about that summer. Only Rosemary knows.”