by Ella Quinn
“It is indeed a lovely morning, my lord.” Smiling, she curtseyed. “I did not know you were an early riser.”
“I enjoy the early morning air when I have the opportunity,” he lied. He detested rising before noon, and she was much too cheerful for the time of day it was. Then again, he didn’t like it, but his mother would. “I’d be delighted to dance with you again at Lady—” He gave her a rueful look, hoping to discover which ball she’d attend next and make sure he had received an invitation.
She laughed lightly. “Lady Elliott’s ball, if that is the one you mean?”
“Yes, of course. I completely forgot her name. I wish I had spent time on the Town before I was sent on my Grand Tour.” Any time on the Town might have been helpful, but Crispin had enjoyed life on the Continent so much he hadn’t wanted to return. “If I had, I would know more people and remember their names.” Thinking about it, Crispin was sure he had not received a card for the lady’s entertainment. But unless the location changed, he would be there.
“That is the next ball I shall be attending.” Lady Adeline’s smile became warmer. He was finally getting somewhere.
“Can you offer me the supper dance?” The more time he spent with her, the easier it would be to convince her to marry him, quickly.
“I am sorry”—a frown formed on her lips—“but that set is taken. I am free for the first waltz.”
“The first waltz it is.” He bowed. “I look forward to it.”
“I as well, my lord.” Her smile deepened.
As she rose from her curtsey, he saw a large dog accompanying Littleton and a footman. “Some people need to leave their cattle on their estates.” In an instant, the smile left Lady Adeline’s face, her formerly soft, gray eyes narrowed at him, and Crispin knew he’d just made a grave error. She obviously had a fondness for large beasts. “Not that I have anything against dogs. I simply believe they have their place.”
“Many think the same. My parents, for instance.” She turned a delightful smile on Littleton, who must have quickened his step to reach them so rapidly. “Good morning, my lord and Maximus.”
The beast strained at his lead to get to her. Crispin had made a serious mistake indeed and resolved to recover from it. “What a handsome gentleman you have, Littleton.”
He inclined his head as the dog placed himself between her ladyship and Crispin’s horse. “Does he not trust horses?”
“Not at all.” The man smirked. “He gets on extremely well with horses. Some people, however . . .”
By this time Lady Adeline was stroking the animal. Crispin attempted to get her attention away from the Great Dane and back on him. “I should be on my way.”
“Yes, of course. Please do not allow me to keep you, my lord. I shall see you at Lady Elliott’s ball.” She hadn’t even looked up at him. He’d see that she didn’t do that again.
“I will count the hours.” Despite being miffed with her, Crispin did not at all like leaving her with his lordship. Unfortunately, he didn’t have much choice. If he stayed, he would not compare well to either the dog or the man. He should have kept his damned mouth shut until he knew how Lady Adeline felt about animals. Perdition. He must be more disgruntled about last night than he’d thought to have made such a slip.
“Good day to you, Anglesey.” Littleton’s countenance could not have been smugger. He obviously knew he’d won this round. Crispin had not a doubt the man would do everything he could to cut him out when it came to Lady Adeline.
* * *
Once Lord Anglesey had taken his leave, Adeline turned her narrowed eyes at Frits, and he rapidly adjusted his features to show a suitably bland mien. “I was under the impression that Humphries walked Max in the mornings.”
“Normally, he does.” Devil it. Frits had not expected her to mention that. “But I happened to be awake and decided to take some exercise.” Behind him, Humphries scoffed lightly, and Frits added, “I do go out with him in the mornings when I’m at home.”
“Indeed.” Adeline didn’t sound convinced. She rubbed both of the Dane’s ears, and he leaned his head into her stomach, wanting the attention to continue. Lucky beast. “I hope to see you later,” she said to the Great Dane. Glancing at Frits, she bobbed a curtsey. “I will see you this evening, my lord.”
He gave her his most charming smile. The one that usually had a woman ready to fall into his arms. “I am looking forward to our dance.”
“As am I.” Again, not convincing. If he’d not been watching her so intently, he would have missed the mistrust her polite expression and words it had masked.
That she truly did not trust him was a surprise. Frits had thought she was merely being loyal to her friend. He’d been certain he could eventually talk her around. But a lack of trust was another matter entirely, and he hadn’t helped his cause at all by appearing with Humphries and Maximus. Somehow, Frits had to find a way to win her trust if he was to have any hope at all of attaching her affections.
Frits, Max, and Humphries continued on their way to the Park and Lady Adeline walked in the opposite direction. The only good that had come from this encounter was that he’d got rid of Anglesey.
“She’s a downy one, she is,” Humphries commented with more than a hint of approval.
“She certainly is.” It dawned on Frits that Lady Adeline was not a typical young lady or indeed a typical lady. It would take a great deal of work on his part to earn her confidence. The trouble was how to go about accomplishing that task. He’d never had a lady distrust him before. He supposed the first thing he should do was stop attempting to trick her. “I will not be joining you in the mornings again.”
At least not until she asked him to.
“As you wish, my lord.”
Humphries had such relief in his voice that Frits glanced sharply at the man. “Keep it up and you’ll be back in the stables.”
His old servant’s eyes sparkled with hope. “Can I keep walking Max?”
“No.” His mother had decreed that livery must be worn while taking the dog out. That was what had led to Humphries’s temporary elevation. Not that he saw it that way. Frits had heard him use the term “damned fart-catcher” more than once. “You know what her ladyship said.”
His shoulders slumped; then he remembered to straighten them, and Frits took pity on the man. “I’ll leave you to it. Take some extra time if you’d like.”
“Thank you, my lord.” Humphries lengthened his stride.
While Max—Maximus; he needed to remember to use the version of the name Adeline liked—and his footman continued on to the Park, Frits turned back toward home, applying himself to the task of making a certain lady understand he was serious about getting to know her better, and that he could be trusted.
He wasn’t happy that Anglesey was going to be dancing with her this evening, but Frits would be taking her for a carriage ride the next day, and he had the supper dance that evening. No matter what happened, he would not be relegated to the end of the table at supper again. That might take some maneuvering. He’d probably do well to arrange it so that they went down to the supper room with her brother and sister-in-law instead of allowing her to follow her friends. But, considering what he now knew, would it be better to let her take the lead? That might make her start to trust him.
In the meantime, he’d see about having his new curricle designed. He’d told her he was going to do it and he would. With Anglesey chasing after Adeline, Frits couldn’t continue to count on her being available to join him during the Grand Strut. But with Maximus as a lure, Frits had a better chance of coaxing her to ride with him. As long as he got the carriage built in time.
He entered his house and went straight to the breakfast room, where he found his mother reading the Morning Post.
“Good morning.” He took a plate and began to fill it from dishes on the sideboard.
She set the paper on the table. “You are up early.”
“I tried to get up in time to go for a walk with Max
imus.” Considering the dog didn’t get up until eight, that shouldn’t have been too difficult. But Frits never seemed to be able to wake up early in Town.
“Um-hm.” She went back to reading the newssheet.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Taking his seat, he fixed a cup of tea.
Mama peeked over the top of the paper. “How did Lady Adeline react to seeing you?”
“Not particularly well.” He sounded like he had as a boy, when a splendid idea turned out not to be. “I have decided not to do it again unless she agrees to see me.”
“A wise decision.” Several moments later, she turned the page. “I have found a date for the theater, but it is not for another ten days. Lady Adeline is committed to several balls and other entertainments between now and then.”
He was disappointed, but he should have expected as much. At least two of her friends were having their come out balls, and she’d have one as well. “Thank you for arranging it. Is Miss Featherton coming?”
“Yes, that was another reason for the delay. We do not have the time either.” His mother started raising the paper to her face again. “I suggest flowers.”
“I already sent a bouquet.” He dug into a baked egg.
His mother sighed. “Send more. She is not one of those ladies who fawn all over you. You are going to have to exert yourself this time.”
That was an excellent point, one he’d already discovered. “I’ll go out after I break my fast.” Mama finished raising the paper. “Is there anything else I should do?”
“Stay away from Lady Holloway. She was quite taken with you.”
Lady Holloway? Who the hell was . . . “Is she a friend of Lady Wall’s?”
“I believe so.” Frits wished his mother would stop reading the blasted newssheet long enough to have a conversation with him. “I heard the rumor from Sally Jersey.”
In that case, everyone in Town and their dog would have heard it. “Thank you. I had no idea.”
“No.” His mother sighed again. This time in exasperation. “You usually do not.”
Frits thought that was a bit unfair, but let it pass. He would, however, make a point of looking at the betting book at Brooks’s. If the rumor was rife, someone was bound to have wagered on it.
He finished eating. “I shall see you at dinner.”
Without putting down her paper, his mother wiggled her fingers at him. And ladies complained about men reading during breakfast. No gentleman had anything on his mother’s absorption in the news. He wondered if Lady Adeline read at the breakfast table. He hoped not. He liked to have a conversation during breakfast.
Taking one of his footmen with him, Frits went to Covent Garden and purchased flowers, then gave the servant instructions to deliver them to Lady Adeline. With that done, he drove to the carriage maker his family used on Long Acre. Mr. Hatchett, the owner, also made vehicles for two of the royal dukes, Gloucester and Cumberland, and Frits had to assume, having seen some of the other carriages, that the man was used to unusual requests. They spent several minutes discussing the design, and Mr. Hatchett promised to have a drawing sent to Frits in a few days.
Shortly past noon, he’d finished with the carriage maker and made his way to Brooks’s, instructing his groom to take the horses. He would walk back home.
Frits flipped through the newest wagers and, not finding anything concerning himself, glanced into the dining room. Turley was in deep conversation with Lord Stanstead, and Frits decided not to interrupt them. There was no doubt at all that they were discussing politics. He’d have luncheon at his desk while he worked. Then Turley waved to him, and Frits had no choice but to join the gentlemen.
“We’re discussing our next attempt to repeal the Corn Laws,” Stanstead said.
The more liberal side of the Whigs had been trying to do that ever since the blasted laws had been passed. “You have to make it worth the Tories’ while. They think of nothing but their own gain.”
“They are convinced”—Stanstead’s tone was as dry as dust—“that the laws will keep them from losing their heads like the French.”
“When, in fact, the opposite is likely to be true.” One of the reasons Frits eschewed politics most of the time was because of the number of true idiots in the Lords.
“Exactly,” Turley said. “We must find away to convince them they are in more danger if the law is not repealed.”
Frits ordered a beefsteak and listened to their ideas. Before long, the group grew and the discussion became louder, to the point that it was difficult to keep track of who was saying and agreeing to which idea.
He’d had enough. This was one of the reasons he didn’t like political discussions. Not only that, but there were now several bottles of claret on the table. He’d had one glass, but had refused to partake of any more. How could they even think after drinking so much?
He placed his serviette on the table and inclined his head. “Gentlemen, please excuse me. I have several pressing matters to attend to.”
Only a few of the men acknowledged him. That didn’t surprise Frits—being so engrossed in the arguments as they were. When he reached the pavement, he was amazed at how early it still was. It had seemed to him that he’d been in Brooks’s for more hours than he had.
When Frits arrived home, he went directly to his office, but no matter how busy he tried to make himself, he couldn’t avoid glancing at the clock every few minutes. At one point he even went over to see if anyone had wound it recently. The hours had never passed so slowly. Letters from his estates normally held his full attention, but today they did not. Frits dropped his pen on the blotter and leaned back in the chair. Perhaps he’d just think of what he’d say to Lady Adeline to make up for his mistake that morning. Then he knew what had gone wrong.
Blast me for a fool.
It was as if the proverbial scales had fallen from his eyes. He’d known from the first she was different from any other lady he’d ever met. That was what had drawn him to her. Why then was he trying to attract her as he would any other lady? He’d never actually thought he’d been overindulged by female attention. In fact, he considered young ladies an irritation. But he must have got spoilt. He’d definitely become arrogant when it came to the female sex. He had to stop thinking about how to get her into his bed and instead find a path to convincing her she wanted to be in his life.
He also had to get rid of Anglesey.
Frits glanced at the clock. Damnation! It was almost five o’clock. How the hell had that happened? He tugged on the bellpull, and a footman appeared. “Tell Lees I want my curricle brought around as soon as he can get it ready.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Frits would start his new campaign this afternoon.
Chapter Eleven
Adeline had arrived home annoyed. She had not liked that Lord Littleton had attempted to trick her. Fortunately, her day had been filled with activities that required her attention, including an at-home at Lady Jersey’s house.
Adeline, her mother, and Eugénie arrived at the same time as two other ladies, Lady Wall and Lady Holloway, a beautiful woman with rich, dark brown hair and blue eyes. After the women had been introduced, Lady Holloway gave Adeline an odd look that she did not understand. Particularly since she had just met the woman.
However, as soon as tea had been served, her ladyship addressed Adeline, “I find Lord Littleton an extremely compelling gentleman. What can you tell me about him?”
He is a rake.
Yet she could not say that, and that might be what the lady was looking for. “He is an excellent dancer.”
“I imagine he must be. Most superior horsemen are also exceptional dancers.” When had her ladyship seen Lord Littleton on horseback? “But come, Lady Adeline, I have seen you riding in his carriage. Surely you must know more about him.”
Adeline did not like to be pumped for information about his lordship. And she was certainly not going to tell her ladyship about his love of his dog or the pigs. “We discuss
the most commonplace of things.” She struggled for something else to add. “His mother is delightful.”
Lady Holloway raised her perfectly arched brows, as if she was incredulous at this piece of information. “His mother?”
Yes, most people have them.
Adeline did not understand why it was so difficult to understand that he would have a lovely mother. She struggled to keep her polite countenance. “She is here this Season and living at Littleton House.”
“Indeed.” Her ladyship’s lips formed a moue, as if her plans had been ruined.
Thankfully, she turned to Lady Jersey and began to talk about people Adeline did not know or know well. She was glad when her mother stood and they bade Lady Jersey adieu.
“Good heavens,” Mama said as soon as they had settled themselves in her coach. “What did that woman say to you?”
“Lady Holloway?” Mama nodded. “She asked about Lord Littleton. I told her there was not much to tell her except that his mother was in Town.”
Smiling, she leaned back against the velvet swabs. “Very wise.”
Adeline did not understand that remark either. Sometimes she felt much greener than she wanted to be. As if there was a whole part of life that was being hidden from her because she was an unmarried lady. It was not fair, and it made her feel ignorant and, more importantly, vulnerable. She might want to have a few discussions with Henrietta or Georgie. They were much more up to snuff.
As her mother’s coach made its slow way to the next morning visit, Eugénie turned to her favorite subject after her husband and child. Before Will had married her and brought her to England, she had been part of a group helping to rescue slaves in the Danish West Indies, where she had lived. She and Will were still funding the project—Adeline gave a portion of her pin money to the cause as well—but her sister-in-law was no longer personally involved in rescues, as she had been before. Eugénie was influential in trying to get more legislation passed concerning the current slaves. “When will Papa-in-law introduce the bill ending the slave trade in the British West Indies?”