“Of course not,” he countered. “I just didn’t want her painting portraits in other people’s homes. While I’m at the bank and unable to provide pro—”
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” Hannah chided him. “She paints portraits of people of quality,” she added. “You’ve no need to be concerned that she would be in any kind of danger.”
“What if she was accosted by a footman?”
Hannah blinked. Harrington House had a number of footmen whom she might have at one time wanted to accost her, but she didn’t think Laura Overby would welcome such advances. “She has paint brushes,” she replied. “A marked man would have a hard time escaping the butler’s wrath.”
“Ha ha,” Henry replied, not the least bit amused.
“I was being serious,” Hannah countered, annoyed by her brother’s attitude. “Of all the short-sighted excuses you could come up with for not marrying the woman you have secretly pined for over the last three weeks, I cannot believe you settled on this one.”
Henry jerked his head up, his eyes narrowing in warning. “You of all people have no right to lecture me about pining for someone.”
Gasping, Hannah had her hand up, ready to slap him across the face. She suddenly lowered it. “Whatever are you talking about?”
“Whoever,” he corrected. “Graham Wellingham.”
Hannah frowned. “I’m fairly certain it’s ‘whomever,’ but whatever it is, I’m quite sure...” She allowed the sentence to trail off, realizing she really didn’t know what was in store for her on this night.
From Tom’s invitation, she expected Graham would be present at the dinner party he was hosting at Fairmont Park. More than anyone, Tom knew of her regard for his cousin. He probably even knew of the bargain she had struck with Graham all those years ago.
“Yes, I expect you’ll be wed to Graham Wellingham within the week,” Henry said with derision. “Or will it be in the morning?”
“Henry!” she scolded. “You could be wed this week, too, if you weren’t so damned stubborn.”
Henry’s head snapped up, as if she had slapped him across the face. He was about to admonish her for her curse, but she held up a staying finger, and he knew to hold his tongue.
“Don’t you dare lecture me about cursing,” she warned. “Laura Overby is an artist. She is well-regarded in her profession. For you to expect her to give up her avocation as a condition of becoming your wife is an... is an insult.”
“Insult?” he countered in disbelief. “I’ll have you know, she told me her father is of the same opinion.”
Hannah angled her head to one side, a sign she was about to insult her brother. “That does not make it right,” she said in a hoarse whisper.
Henry winced. Whenever his sister spoke in whispers, she was doing so from a position of annoyance.
Impatience.
Anger.
“You are saying I am wrong in my concern that my wife might be accosted whilst she paints in someone’s home?”
Hannah straightened and considered his question before she shook her head. “You are not wrong,” she admitted in a quiet voice.
“Ha!” he managed before Hannah directed a dagger-filled look in his direction.
“A situation easily mitigated with a... a footman or... or an old crone of a maid,” she stammered. “It’s not an all-or-nothing scenario, Henry,” she added when she saw how he settled back in his chair.
His only response was a heavy sigh.
“Do you love her?”
Henry allowed another sigh. “I feel affection for her,” he acknowledged.
“Do you think about her all the time?”
He rolled his eyes. “Well, not all the time,” he replied defensively.
“Do you worry about her?”
He inhaled softly before clearing his throat. “All the time,” he whispered.
Hannah angled her head to one side and gave a huff. “Oh, Henry. Come to some to sort of agreement and marry the poor girl. Put yourself and our mother out of your misery.”
“Misery?” he repeated. “I’m not miserable,” he insisted. He clamped his mouth shut when he noted how his sister stared at him. “At least, not all the time,” he amended. He dropped his head into his hands. “It’s time I move into my townhouse, Hannah. I hoped to do so with a wife who could oversee the household—”
“Oh, Henry. You can hire a good housekeeper to do that,” she argued, obviously impatient with him. Then her eyes widened.
“What is it?”
“Not what, but whom,” she said in a whisper. “I know exactly whom you should hire to be your housekeeper,” she murmured. “That is, if you can get her away from Fitzsimmons Manor,” she added.
“Lord Chamberlain’s housekeeper?”
Hannah nodded as her attention went to the clock on the fireplace mantel. “With this extra errand, I must be going, or I will be late to Fairmont Park, and I shouldn’t wish to miss my opportunity for a happily ever after,” she added as she stood. “God knows I’ve been waiting a long time for it.”
She was out of the salon before Henry could rise to his feet. He followed her into the vestibule. “Might I prevail upon you for a ride? I forgot how far it is to King Street,” he said, a bit sheepishly.
“First, I’m taking you to Fitzsimmons Manor,” Hannah replied as Potter draped her mantel over her shoulders.
“You are?”
“Yes, and with any luck, I’ll be dropping you and the housekeeper at your townhouse. You’ll need to arrange for her return, however.”
“I’m quite sure I can manage that,” Henry replied, knowing he would need the time in the coach to come up with a suitable apology.
And to build up an appetite. He was fairly sure he was going to be eating some crow on this night.
Chapter 28
Dueling Dinners
A few minutes later, Fairmont Park, north of London
Lady Victoria Statton Grandby regarded the dining table with a critical eye, sure something was missing. She was in the middle of counting silverware when her butler appeared on the threshold, a silver salver held in one hand.
“What is it, Clark?”
“A note was just delivered, my lady. I have reason to believe...” He paused, a pained expression replacing his usual staid features. “It has to do with this evening’s dinner.”
Victoria plucked the note from the salver and turned it over to study the wax seal. A ‘W’ was embossed in the red wax, but there were no other markings to indicate its source.
“Is there a problem?” Tom asked from the threshold.
Glancing up from the missive, Victoria inhaled softly at the sight of her husband dressed in his finest dinner clothes. He appeared as if he had recently been shaved, and his hair was still damp. Tempted to ruffle it with her fingers, she instead held out the note in his direction. “A letter arrived. It’s addressed to you,” she said quietly.
Tom furrowed a brow as he reached for the note and broke the seal. Unfolding the stationery, he quietly cursed after reading a few lines. “It seems Graham has received a dinner invitation from Edward Harrington,” he murmured.
Victoria’s eyes widened. “That’s good, is it not?”
“For tonight,” Tom replied as he continued to read the note. “What I don’t understand is why it’s taken so long for this to reach us,” he said as he turned the letter over and read the outside. “He wrote it last Friday evening.”
“Oh, dear. Are you saying he’s not coming tonight?” Victoria asked in alarm, lifting her hand to her hips as she attempted to hide her disappointment.
Tom looked up and noticed his wife’s fine blue dinner gown and coiffure for the first time. “I am. God, but you’re rather gorgeous this evening.” He stepped around the table and kissed her on the cheek.
“Bounder,” she accused, even though a frisson shot through her when she remembered what they would be doing after their dinner guests took their leave. She sobered more when she considered w
hat Tom had planned for that evening. “This was supposed to a be a reunion of two lovers, you said,” she reminded him in a quiet voice. “Now it’s ruined.”
“I know,” Tom replied. “Cousin Edward has foiled our plans, it seems. I’m quite sure Graham only accepted a dinner invitation at Harrington House because he believed Hannah would be there,” he murmured. “Which means Edward believed she would be there, as well. Which means...” His eyes suddenly widened.
“What?” Victoria asked in confusion.
“We’ll have to see to getting Lady Harrington back to Harrington House this evening. While Graham is still there.”
Victoria nodded. “Of course. But... we’ll have to tell her why. So much for your surprise.” Her eyes widened. “But... what if Mr. Wellingham leaves to come here when he discovers Hannah isn’t there?”
Tom winced, remembering how determined Graham had been when he was in his office. “Seems we’re in a pickle,” he murmured.
Clark cleared his throat, and when the two turned to stare at him, he said, “Lady Harrington’s coach has just pulled into the drive. Should I... send her back to Harrington House?”
Tom and Victoria exchanged glances. “No,” Victoria replied firmly.
“What?” Tom arched a brow, his confusion evident.
Victoria’s fists once again went to her hips. “If Mr. Wellingham wants her that badly, he can come to her,” she stated.
His eyes darted sideways, in time to catch Clark doing the same thing in his direction. Tom sighed. “Very well. We’ll carry on with dinner as planned, but we’re going to have an uneven number at the table until Graham shows up.” He glanced over the place settings and frowned. “Was it only going to be the four of us?” he asked.
“Well, it was supposed to be eight, but...” She sighed. “Gabe and Francis haven’t yet returned from their wedding trip, and I received word Lord and Lady Haddon aren’t coming because, well, Juliet isn’t feeling up to it.”
Tom’s brows lifted before a grin appeared. “So a little lord or lady is in their future?” he guessed.
“She’s not yet sure,” Victoria replied, as the sound of the front door opening had them moving to greet their only dinner guest.
“Vicky!” Hannah said happily as she hugged her niece by marriage. “I’ve been looking forward to this dinner all day,” she said as Clark removed her mantel. She turned her attention on her nephew. “My, but don’t you clean up nicely?” she teased. “If you wear those clothes tomorrow night at the Weatherstone ball, I’ll be sure to dance with you.”
“You had better,” Tom countered. “They say I’m only allowed two with my wife, but I intend to cheat.”
Hannah’s grin remained in place until she noticed the quiet. “Am I the first to arrive?”
Tom cleared his throat. “For now,” he managed. “It seems our other guests will not be joining us.”
Her grin fading, Hannah blinked several times. “Has something happened?”
Victoria was quick to step up and take her arm. “Juliet is ill, so the Haddons are not coming this evening. Gabe and Francis—”
“Are in Italy,” Hannah finished for her, knowing the Earl of Trenton’s oldest son and his new bride would have been on the invitation list.
“Our other... guest seems to have mixed up his invitations. With any luck, he’ll realize his mistake and join us by the time the dessert course is served.” Victoria pulled Hannah toward the library.
Hannah stared at her. “He?”
Victoria dared a glance in her husband’s direction, hoping Tom might provide an answer. She didn’t want to ruin the surprise if Graham did make an appearance.
“We have someone we’d like you to meet,” Tom said as he moved to the liquor cart in the library. “Actually, you were introduced a long time ago, but we thought to reacquaint the two of you.” He lifted a carafe of wine. “A glass of claret?”
Hannah shook her head. “Brandy,” she stated. She moved to sit on the edge of the settee and glanced up at Victoria. “So he’s not coming,” she murmured, disappointment apparent in her crestfallen expression.
“It seems your son invited him to dinner at Harrington House,” Victoria replied, deciding she didn’t wish to be part of a ruse. She sat next to Hannah and reached for one of her hands. “I understand if you’d like to return there right away, but—”
“Edward has met Graham?” Hannah asked in alarm. She turned her attention on Tom, her eyes wide with what appeared to be fright. “How? When? Edward hasn’t said a word of it to me!”
Tom offered her the glass of brandy and gave a glass of claret to his wife. “He wanted to surprise you,” he said gently, but his brows furrowed at her reaction to the news.
“Well, he’s certainly done that,” Hannah replied, before she took a long sip of the brandy and nearly choked. “Oh, good God, I don’t know what I was thinking,” she said as her face screwed up in disgust.
Doing his best to suppress a grin, Tom took the glass from her and returned to the liquor cart. “Your need for fortification, I would guess, Aunt Hannah. And as for the how, it seems my cousin—cousins,” he corrected himself, “attend the same club.”
Hannah fell back against the settee’s cushion, a slight gasp sounding. “Brooks’s,” she murmured. “Edward went with Mayfield last Friday evening, after they played billiards.” She sighed as she glanced over at Victoria. “But he didn’t tell me.”
Victoria gave a slight shrug. “Unlike most men, your son is good at keeping secrets.”
Tom rolled his eyes as he gave his aunt the claret. “Here I thought I was doing rather well,” he said under his breath. “Pardon me. I need to speak with Clark a moment.”
Furrowing a brow as her husband left the library, Victoria said in a quiet voice, “I would not blame you if you wished to return to Harrington House. We can even join you on the ride if you’d like some company.”
Hannah downed half of her claret in a few gulps. “No. I will not allow this to spoil your dinner. Our dinner,” she amended. “Besides, I have news about my brother.”
Victoria’s eyes widened. “Whatever has happened?” she asked in alarm.
Realizing her words had been misunderstood, Hannah said, “It’s not a matter of life or death, but...” She shook her head.
“He’s met someone.”
It was Hannah’s turn to give a look of alarm. “How did you know?”
Victoria tittered. “He’s a bank clerk. He’s probably the most staid man I’ve ever met. If something has happened that would have you remarking on it, it would have to involve a woman,” she replied.
“Oh, dear. He has become rather staid,” Hannah murmured.
“Have you met her?”
Hannah nodded. “As have you.” She pointed up to the portrait of Tom and Victoria that hung above the fireplace.
Victoria jerked back at the same moment Tom returned to the library. “What is it?” he asked, his gaze going to the portrait.
“He is courting Miss Overby?” Victoria asked, a look of delight crossing her face.
“I leave the room for not even one moment, and I’ve obviously missed important gossip,” Tom complained.
“They went for a ride in the park this afternoon,” Hannah began, ignoring her nephew’s comment, “and from what Henry said when he paid a call at Harrington House, I fear I shall not be blessed with another nephew or a niece. Ever,” Hannah lamented.
“Laura Overby?” Tom asked as he took a seat across from the women. “She seems very amiable.”
“She is,” Hannah assured him. “I think she even likes my brother, and Mother is certainly impressed with her. But Henry cannot abide a wife who paints portraits in people’s homes, and she doesn’t wish to give up on her avocation.”
“Nor should she,” Victoria stated. She and Tom exchanged a meaningful glance.
“I knew better than to bring up the topic,” Tom said to Hannah. “Besides, I rather like that my wife has an interest in somethi
ng other than shopping and gossip. Something she can do without my presence. I do require she have a groomsman nearby in case of trouble, though,” he added, referring to the times Victoria spent training race horses.
“Miss Overby is making a good living on referrals alone,” Victoria said after giving her husband a wink. “She doesn’t require a husband, unless she wants children, of course.”
Hannah sighed. “I think Henry was on the verge of tears when he told me,” she murmured.
Tom leaned forward in his chair. “Uncle Henry?” he asked in surprise. “Tears? When was this?”
Hannah dared a glance at the clock on the mantel. “Not even two hours ago,” she replied. “I felt terrible having to dismiss him, but I think he’s made a stupid blunder, and I told him so.”
“What about Miss Overby? Is she... all right?” Tom asked.
Hannah blinked as her mouth dropped open. “I have no idea. Henry put her in the coach and sent her back to my parents’ townhouse whilst he went for a walk.” When she noted Victoria’s expression of curiosity, she added, “She started painting our family portrait this morning.”
“Oh, how awkward the sittings will be,” Victoria murmured.
“Indeed,” Hannah said on a sigh.
Clark appeared at the door and announced dinner was served. While Tom stood and offered his arms to both Hannah and his wife, he made eye contact with the butler.
His nod barely perceptible, Clark’s eyes darted toward the front of the house. At the same time, Tom heard the sound of a horse leaving the grounds, and he gave the servant a knowing nod.
Leading the women to the dining room, Tom felt a good deal of satisfaction at having a stable full of fast horses. He doubted any of them had been used for such a mission as the one that had been dispatched on this evening. But his aunt’s happiness depended on it.
As did his cousin’s.
Chapter 29
Second Chances
The hour before at the Simpson townhouse, King Street
The Bargain of a Baroness Page 19