by Ella Quinn
Yr. servant,
Littleton
He sanded and sealed the letter, then called for his butler.
“My lord?”
“Please have this sent by the most expeditious manner to the British Embassy in Paris.” Frits handed Creswell the letter.
“At once, my lord.” He bowed.
“I shall want my curricle at ten minutes to five. Tell Lees I want the grays.” Their color almost matched Lady Adeline’s eyes.
“Yes, my lord.”
Frits glanced at the clock. He still had over an hour before departing. Time enough to go through the correspondence his secretary had left for him. The first of which would be the estate reports. He was concerned about the effect the gales last month had had on the fruit trees.
By the time he was done reading and answering the letters, it was time to fetch Lady Adeline. Frits sent a prayer to whichever deity was listening that he wouldn’t have to search for another lady.
Shortly before the appointed hour, he pulled up in front of Watford House in St James’s Square and plied the knocker. The door was opened by a footman. Frits handed the man his card. “I have an appointment with Lady Adeline.”
“I shall notify her you have arrived, my lord.” After bowing, the footman sent a younger footman running for her ladyship. “Would you like refreshment while you wait?”
He hoped she wouldn’t be that long. “Yes, please. Tea would be nice.”
He was led into a front parlor that was decorated in soothing blues and greens. The door closed behind the footman, and Frits looked out the window with a view to the square. It wasn’t long before tea arrived, and before he could take more than a sip or two—just enough to recognize the blend from earlier today—the door opened, and he could see Lady Adeline in the hall.
“I trust I did not keep you waiting too long, my lord.” She had a polite smile, but was obviously not delighted to see him. Well, that was no more than he’d expected.
“Not at all. I was able to enjoy another taste of your excellent tea while I waited.” He held out his arm, and stifled a smile at the adorable confusion on her face.
“You had tea?” She placed her hand on his arm and allowed him to lead her out to his carriage. “I thought gentlemen only drank tea when they had to.”
“Er. I suppose some do.” He assisted her into the curricle and put up the steps. “I am not a hydropot, but I rarely drink wine to excess, and I find few good reasons to drink strong spirits during the day. Occasionally, a glass of wine will not go amiss.”
Her nicely shaped brows drew together, and he gave the horses their office. It surprised him that she had not mentioned either the beauty of his matched pair or his handsome curricle. Most ladies admired both.
“As I said earlier, I agree with my mother; your tea is wonderful.” He looked forward to having her blend tea for him.
“Thank you. I had a package sent to her.”
“I knew you would not forget.” He smiled at her, and was pleased to see her gaze raised to his. But he could see her mind was still jumbled. Was she wondering what sort of gentleman she had met? “Do you use the same blend in the morning?”
“Oh, no. I always do what I say I will.” Her words came out slowly, then she gave her head an imperceptible shake. “No, my morning blend is much stronger.”
“I would enjoy trying it sometime.” Perhaps for the rest of his life. He bit his cheek. Slow down!
“Your horses are lovely. I adore grays.” She had apparently decided to ignore his last remarks.
Ah, now they were getting somewhere. Or were they? “Thank you. My mother helped me select them. She is an excellent judge of good horseflesh.”
“Your mother?” Lord Littleton must be making a May-game of her. “I have never heard of a gentleman taking his mother to help him look at horses.”
“I didn’t. She found them and suggested I take a look.” He cast a fond eye at the grays. “One of our neighbors was going to take them to Tattersalls, but she saw them first.”
Adeline only knew of one lady who had an absolute talent for selecting horses. It seemed Lady Littleton was another. What was interesting was that his lordship listened to his mother. And liked tea more than coffee. “I must commend you for taking her advice.”
“That was something I learned early on. My father was adamant that she be kept happy.”
They had reached the gate into the Park, causing Lord Littleton to have to pay more attention to the traffic, thus giving her an opportunity to consider what he’d said. It was yet another thing that did not fit her perception of rakes. Still, after what Dorie had said, Adeline could not be wrong about him, even if he did not drink to excess. What her sister-in-law said about different kinds of rakes made more sense.
They nodded to people they knew, and she noticed the utterly lascivious looks he received from some of the matrons and widows, but he did not seem to take note of their interest at all. In fact, when he looked at her, she had the same feeling she’d had before. As if she was the center of his attention.
Adeline had to think of something to say. Thus far, she was acting like she had more hair than wit. “Where is your estate?”
“My main estate is in Surrey, but I have several others throughout the country.” They had slowed to a crawl, and he gave her a quizzical look. “One is in Cornwall. My gardener has convinced me to try to grow pineapples.”
Perhaps he would know more about the area than Lord Anglesey had. “I heard that tropical plants can grow there.”
“Yes, they can.” He grinned. “But unless you wish to hear about sheltering berms and tree hedges and other such things, you will have to take my word for it that it can be done.”
Against her will, Adeline was becoming interested in him. “Do you spend much time in Town?”
“Only the main Season.” He had a rueful look on his handsome face. “I probably should not admit that I prefer the country. We are constantly making improvements, and I would rather be there when we try new ideas.”
“Such as?” Lord help her. She should not encourage him. She should greet other people she knew and converse with him enough to be polite. But she liked farming and innovations.
“Well”—he seemed to settle back against the cushions, which were actually quite comfortable—“I have one herd of pigs that dine on chestnuts toward the end of the season.”
That was odd. “I have never heard of such a thing. What does it matter what they eat?”
“It all started when one of my tenant’s daughters made a pet of a piglet. The main problem was, it wasn’t their piglet. She had walked home from school with another tenant’s daughter and the pig had given birth several days before.” Lord Littleton’s green eyes sparkled with mirth. “From all accounts, she held one of the piglets and began visiting it every day after school”—Adeline wanted to ask him about the school, but that would have to wait—“then one day the piglet followed her home.”
“Oh, dear.” Despite herself she felt her lips twitch.
“Indeed.” He gave her a forlorn look. “Fortunately, the owner was more amused than upset. The problem came when it happened a second day. The girl was only seven, and she did not understand why the piglet couldn’t be her pet.” The put upon sigh he heaved made it harder not to smile. “There was apparently a great deal of crying and clinging to the animal, and I happened to be making visits and heard the contretemps.” This time the lost look he had was one she had seen on both her father and brother’s faces when their wives were weeping. “I bought the pig and gave it to the little girl with the provision that any of the piglet’s progeny would belong to the estate. I also agreed to pay for feeding it and building a pen.”
Adeline covered her mouth with her hand to hide her smile. “That was kind of you.”
“It was the only thing I could think of.” He moved the carriage along. “Not long after that, a friend returned from his Grand Tour and told me about a ham he’d had in Italy. What made it so s
pecial was that the pigs dined on chestnuts for a few months before they were slaughtered. I just happen to have a chestnut grove only a mile or so from the tenant’s farm, so after her first fare was born, raised, and about ready, we let them loose in the grove.” He beamed. “The results were amazing.” He glanced at her and then frowned. “You probably didn’t want to hear all that.”
The problem was that she had wanted to hear it and wanted to know more. But what would happen if it got out that she enjoyed discussing farm animals? Would he tell other gentlemen? She could not risk telling him the truth. “It was a very enjoyable story.”
“Thank you.” His black brows came together.
“It is a pity that not all landowners can be so inventive.” That was the truth, without telling him her secret about her love for farms and agriculture.
“That’s what I think. So many peers and other gentlemen complain about not being able to wring more money out of their estates, but I believe that if you invest in them and try to be innovative, you will be rewarded.”
“I think you are correct. My father says much the same thing.” She found herself warming even more to Lord Littleton.
Adeline did not understand. It was a well-known fact that rakes engaged in brandy early in the day, gambled to excess—or until their fathers put an end to such foolishness, as her father had with her brother—and were dangerous to all ladies. But Lord Littleton was concerned about his holdings, land, and tenants; helped a little girl keep a pig; grew pineapples; and did not normally drink during the day.
And there was the school. She needed to hear more about it. Her mother had attempted to start a dame school, and it had met with little success. “You said you have a school for your tenants’ children. How did that come about?”
“Not easily.” She laughed at the face he pulled. “My grandmother tried to start one in the last century and failed. Then my mother tried and heard the same objections about schooling not being any use for children. But I had the idea of paying every tenant who sent their children to school an amount sufficient to make it worthwhile for them to delay the children’s chores.
“The distance is not far in country terms, but it is interesting the excuses that arise when a child has to get to the school on their own. So I started sending a wagon around to pick up the children each morning, and when the master’s wagon arrives, a child gets in it.”
“What an excellent idea.” Adeline could not hold back her approval. And it would not have been fair for her to do so. “I shall tell my mother what you did.”
“Lady Adeline.” Lord Anglesey, sitting a bay horse, sidled the animal next to her and inclined his head. “How are you enjoying the Promenade?”
She had not even noticed the other people around them. “It has been lovely.” She glanced at Lord Littleton, whose face had closed. Most gentlemen appeared to know one another, but either Littleton and Anglesey had never met or they did not like each other. “Do you know Lord Littleton?”
Lord Anglesey’s smile tightened, as if he did not wish to know him. “No, I have not had the pleasure.”
She pasted a happy smile on her face. “Allow me to introduce you. Lord Anglesey, this is Lord Littleton.”
The men exchanged greetings, but their looks were tense. What could possibly be wrong?
Lord Littleton recovered first and smiled. “I hope you have a pleasant afternoon, Anglesey. The traffic is moving on and so must we.”
Lord Anglesey backed up his horse. “My lady, it was delightful to see you. Littleton, please do not allow me to impede your progress.”
Lord Littleton raised one brow. “Never fear, Anglesey. I do not intend to.”
Adeline looked from one gentleman to the other. Something was going on. If only she knew what it was.
The carriage moved forward, and she was glad to see Henrietta with Lord Fotheringale. Lord Littleton drew up to them, and they all exchanged greetings and discussed the ball they would attend that evening.
As they drove off, he said, “If you have the supper dance free, I would be honored if you would allow me to stand up with you.”
Unfortunately, Adeline had all the sets free. Although Will had said he’d dance with her when she did not have a partner. Earlier, before their carriage ride, she would have thought about making an excuse, but that would have been playing with fire. Even with her success at Almack’s, she could not count on being asked for every dance at the ball. “I would like to dance with you.”
His broad shoulders noticeably relaxed. He had been nervous. Now that was interesting. She was becoming less and less sure that he was a rake. He certainly did not act like her brother did. Perhaps it was time she found out exactly what had occurred between Lord Littleton and her friend. Because if he had set out to break Dorie’s heart, Adeline could never have anything to do with him.
Chapter Six
Crispin was not happy to see Lady Adeline with another gentleman. Especially one as well regarded as Littleton. Even though they had not met before, he had an excellent reputation and was almost as wealthy as the Golden Ball. He’d probably even been invited to the Duchess of Rothwell’s ball this evening, which Crispin had not. Although it would not be difficult to gain entry. It never was at the ton’s large balls.
He glanced at the other man’s curricle and wondered if his father had a sporting carriage. It had not occurred to him that he would require one, but it appeared he did.
As he made his way slowly around the carriageway, he stopped to converse with people he had recently met and some he’d known from Paris. Earlier today, he had been informed that Lady Riverton was not at home. But she was here, riding in an open carriage with another matron.
He rode up to the landau, which had stopped due to the traffic. “My lady, good afternoon.”
Holding her parasol against the weak sun, she inclined her head. “Good day to you, my lord.” She glanced at the woman with her. “Lady Sutton, may I present Lord Anglesey? He has recently returned from Paris.”
Lady Sutton held out one gloved hand, and a slight smile curved her lips. “A pleasure, my lord.” She arched a brow at Sarah, who suddenly found her parasol more interesting than either him or her friend. “My lord, I am giving a small dinner tomorrow evening. I would adore it if you would agree to come.”
He kept his gaze on her ladyship and refused to look at Sarah. The blasted woman was passing him off. He raised the hand still in his fingers and kissed the back of it. “Nothing would please me more.”
Lady Sutton smiled like a cat let into the cream. “Shall I send an invitation to Normanby House?”
“Please do.” He kept her hand for a few moments longer before returning it. If Sarah no longer wished for his company, he had no difficulty accepting her friend’s attentions. “Ladies”—he bowed—“I shall see you later.”
Still, being given his congé from Sarah in such a fashion churned in his gut. Crispin had never had a woman leave him before. He wondered who she would find to replace him, but he’d not go out of his way to discover the information. No doubt it would soon be clear enough. Nevertheless, he had a young lady to court and marry.
Damn Littleton. Crispin must trust that his greater rank and the promise of a marquessate would make him more acceptable, if not to her then to her parents. In the meantime, he would attend the ball this evening and dance with his chosen wife. Yet, the more he thought about it, the more he was certain he’d win her hand. That an eligible peer was interested in Lady Adeline would make his conquest all the sweeter.
After returning home and consulting with his father’s stable master, Crispin was told there was a curricle he could use, as well as a pair of matched bays. By ten that evening—one would not wish to be early to a ball to which one had not been invited—he set out for Grosvenor Square, where he was told Rothwell House was located. However, when he arrived, there was no indication a ball was taking place. In fact, the house was mostly dark. There was an event farther down the square, and, after deci
ding he had the wrong residence, he went there, but that was not the right house either.
“Devil it.” Had he been told the incorrect date?
Clenching his jaw, he went back home. He’d received several cards earlier today. All he could do was to go through them and try to work out which events Lady Adeline would attend.
* * *
Shortly after Frits returned home from his ride with Lady Adeline, he received a hand-delivered message from Rothwell House, informing him that due to an incident there, the ball had been moved to Worthington House in Berkeley Square. That was a huge undertaking. He hoped the Rothwells’ home was still habitable.
Frits rang for tea, but before he could settle in to work on his correspondence, his mother ambled into the room and made herself comfortable on the small sofa next to the fireplace. Next, his butler appeared with a tea service including two cups.
Giving work up as a lost cause, he moved to a large chair across from her and waited for her to pour.
Once she had given him a cup and prepared her own, she took a small sip. “How did your carriage ride with Lady Adeline fare?”
“It was nice.” Mama frowned. “Thus far, we seem to have at least one thing in common.” Actually, more than one thing.
Her brows inched up toward her lacy cap, and she took a long drink of tea. Perhaps he should offer her a glass of wine. He might need one as well. It had not occurred to him that his mother would decide to interrogate him about his ride with Lady Adeline.
She poured another cup. “And what would that thing be?”
“Farming.” Frits felt a flush rise in his neck. Good Lord, not that. He wasn’t fifteen or even seventeen and hadn’t been for years. “We also discussed schools for the children on an estate.”