by Ella Quinn
Adeline joined her friend and after several minutes—they kept getting distracted by other books—they found the section they wanted. But they were not alone. She held up her hand to cup the side of her mouth and whispered, “Do you hear that?”
“I wonder if we have come upon a tryst.” Georgie said. “I have been told it sometimes happens.”
They exchanged a glance before daring to peek around the corner of a bookshelf, then ducked back, hiding themselves again.
“It is only Miss Tice and Miss Martindale.” Adeline wondered what they could be doing.
Georgie’s brows drew together. “If only they didn’t have more hair than wit. I think we should listen.”
Adeline wanted to object, but she could not think of a good reason to do so. If anyone was bound to think of a bad idea, it was those two ladies. She nodded.
The whispers became louder, and one of the ladies said, “I am positive that Lord Littleton has an estate that marches along Lord Turner’s property. All you have to do is get his attention. Then we shall be able to live near each other.”
“But how?” the lady practically wailed. “The only lady he pays any attention to is Lady Adeline.”
Adeline glanced at Georgie, who cast her eyes to the ceiling. Surely this was not happening again!
“She is an earl’s daughter,” one of the ladies said. “I am certain her family will want her to look higher than a baron.”
“Not one as wealthy and well-connected as he is,” the other one said despairingly.
“Let me think.” The two were silent, and Adeline could hear muffled conversations filtering up from below. Finally, the lady said, “We will arrange for you to be found alone with him. Then he will have to marry you.”
Adeline dropped her head into her hands and muttered, “I had no idea that was such a popular idea.”
“It happened only once to my brother,” Georgie said. “But his reputation was so pristine, no one believed it.”
Sounds of Miss Tice and Miss Martindale leaving made Adeline and Georgie move silently toward the wall. The two ladies, however, were not paying any attention to anything but their conversation.
“We do not even know when or where it will occur, or which lady will attempt to ensnare him.” Adeline was disgusted by the whole thing.
“I am sure they will be at the ball this evening,” Georgie said. “We shall watch and see which one of them Lord Turner favors. Then you can warn Lord Littleton.”
“Bother.” Adeline was starting to feel as if she was going to spend her whole Season alternately trying to avoid him and protect him from scheming young ladies. Not that it was actually possible to elude the man. He knew Wivenly and his friends.
“I found it.” Georgie held up a book. “Are you ready to go?”
“More than ready.” He should go back to the country. Then Adeline could get on with her Season and possibly marry Lord Anglesey.
“My grandmother Featherton always says things work out the way they are meant to.”
“I wish I could have as much faith.” When they reached the counter, the others were paying for their purchases.
As they left Hatchards, Adeline strolled next to Dorie. “You and Lord Exeter looked as if you were having an interesting conversation last evening.”
She appeared taken aback. “We were, rather. He has much to do to learn his new position, but he is coming along. Whatever do you discuss with Lord Littleton? I confess I never found his conversation that interesting.”
Adeline did not know if that was true or said out of pique. Still, she might as well test it. “Pigs. He had a very sweet story about pigs.”
“Pigs?” Dorie’s brows rose. “What on earth could be interesting or sweet about swine?”
“It was the way he told it.” Adeline tried not to sound defensive. After all, she had enjoyed the tale.
Fortunately, they had reached the milliner’s, and the conversation ended as they walked into the shop. But at least she had found out what she had wished to know. Humphries was right: Dorie and Lord Littleton had not been at all suited. Not that the knowledge relieved Adeline of her loyalty to a friend. Still, it was something. Even if she wasn’t quite sure what.
As the day progressed, she bought a bonnet and several other items she did not need. In fact, she required very little other than more stockings. One or two evenings’ dancing and they must be replaced. She spent much of the time trying to discover alternate places to make a carriage drive. Yet by the time Littleton arrived, she still had no idea where they should go.
Chapter Sixteen
When Lord Littleton lifted Adeline into the curricle, she wished she could convince herself she was getting used to the feeling of his hands heating her even through her twill carriage gown, but she could not. Her breath caught and her heart raced, and she had to take a few gulps of air for her body to return to normal.
As she could not think of where they should go, she decided to place the burden on his much broader shoulders, and hope he did not mind finding somewhere new. “Must we go to the Park today?”
He glanced at her, his green eyes sharper than they had ever been before. “No. As a matter of fact, I hoped you might agree to accompany me to see how my new curricle is coming along.”
That sounded interesting. She’d never seen a carriage being built. “The one for Maximus?”
Littleton grinned and chuckled. “The very same.”
Her shoulders felt as if a load of stones had been removed. “Yes, I would like that immensely.” He started the horses. “It is far?”
“Not particularly. It will probably take us the same amount of time to go there, look at the curricle, and return as it would to get most of the way around the Park.”
“Excellent.” She smiled in relief. “It will be fun to do something different.”
When Adeline grinned at Frits, the slightly hazy day became much brighter. Thank the Lord she had suggested they not go to the Park. “How did you spend your day?”
“Shopping.” Her face scrunched up adorably. “I suppose I should tell you that there is another scheme afoot to compromise you into marriage. The only problem is that I do not know which of the two ladies it is. I should be able to ascertain that this evening.”
Frits forced himself to frown instead of smiling. It was about time Fate decided to be kind to him. If Adeline was going to spend her time protecting him, he could not be even the slightest bit upset. Still, he made a point of heaving a huge sigh. “I do not understand why this happens. Or what I can do to stop it.”
“Well, I am not sure there is anything you can do to make them cease. In this case, it is occurring because you apparently share a boundary with Lord Turner.”
“We do. Our families have been friends for generations.” Frits didn’t understand. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Have you met Miss Tice and Miss Martindale?”
“Yes, I have met both of the ladies, and Turner made me known to Miss Martindale again.” He glanced at Adeline. “He is very taken with her.”
“That is our answer. They are almost inseparable. And they wish to wed gentlemen whose holdings are close together.” So much for trying to avoid the ladies. They had turned on to Piccadilly and he had to thread the carriage through a narrow space between two wagons that had stopped on either side of the street. “That was well done,” she said approvingly. “Therefore, as Miss Martindale and Lord Turner appear to be forming a connection, she is looking for a gentleman for her friend.”
“I have no words.” Or he had plenty of them, but none he could say with Adeline present.
“Is there another gentleman you can think of who would meet the requirements?” Adeline glanced at him hopefully. “If we can find another prospect, she might leave you alone.”
We.
She had used the word “we.”
The word struck him so forcefully, he had to think about the rest of what she’d said. “Let me ponder it when I’
m not distracted by traffic.”
She looked around. “And to think I thought the Park was crowded. There are so many different types of vehicles.”
London streets were always busy. He took them for granted, but it was interesting seeing them from her point of view. Despite the traffic, it wasn’t long before they reached the carriage maker. She was staring at the large building and the various vehicles when he surprised her by lifting her down. He smiled to himself when she sucked in a breath. For all her curves, her waist was small enough that he could put his hands almost all the way around it. He held her so that they were face-to-face, becoming lost in the way her silvery eyes looked at him. They reminded him of the sun glinting off a sword.
“You really should put me down.” Her voice was breathy and dry at the same time. He must be having an effect on her. One he hoped Anglesey wasn’t having.
“Of course.” Frits lowered her gently, wishing he had an excuse to bring her close enough that their bodies touched on the slow slide down. He could imagine her arms around his neck and their lips touching. If only she was wearing short stays, he could feel more of her well-rounded body. Thinking of that. When had she changed from short stays?
“My lord.” The sharpness in Adeline’s tone made him drop his hands and offer his arm.
“Let’s find the owner.” He led her into the massive front doors.
“I’ve never seen so many different types of carriages.” This time her voice was filled with wonder. “How much fun it would be to design one’s own coach.”
A clerk came up to them. “May I help you?”
“Yes. I am Lord Littleton. I’d like to know if Mr. Hatchett is available.”
“He’s out at the moment, my lord. I am his son. I will be happy to show you the work that’s been done on your carriage.”
“Thank you. That’s the reason I came.”
The man glanced at Adeline. “I’m afraid it’s not very clean. The lady might want to have a cup of tea in the office.”
“I am sure I shall be fine.” She gave the clerk a polite smile. “I am extremely interested in seeing the vehicle. I have only seen finished ones.”
“If you’re sure”—Hatchett the Younger’s tone indicated he thought she’d be unhappy with her decision—“then follow me.” He led them into the back, and the man hadn’t been exaggerating. Workers were in the process of building various carriages, and at one point they had to walk through sawdust. He stopped at the side of the curricle. The body had been completed, and the bench for the driver attached, but two men were frowning over the box that had been installed behind the bench. “Here you are, my lord.”
“Is there a problem?” Frits asked the workers.
“I think we need to know more about the dog what’s goin’ inside the box,” the older man with lightly graying hair said.
He put his hand on the top part of his hip. “His back is to here.”
The younger man’s jaw dropped. “That’s a big ’un.”
Adeline strolled around the carriage. “How are you going to get him up and into the box?”
The older man scratched his head. “That’s a good question, miss.”
And one Frits had not thought through. He had told Mr. Hatchett that Maximus was a Great Dane, but had not told him how large the dog was.
She pointed at the side of the box. “Could you make one of the sides a door and have steps going up to it?”
That was something Frits should have thought of. He glanced at the older worker. “I can’t see a problem with that suggestion. Can you?”
“No, my lord.” The man shook his head consideringly. “I think that’ll work fine.”
Frits bowed to her. “My thanks for solving the problem.”
“It was my pleasure.” Adeline smiled brightly.
“When do you think it’ll be finished?” Now that he’d seen it, he couldn’t wait to drive it.
“Another week should do it,” the older man said. “We need to paint it before we add the leather.”
“That will do. Thank you for your work.”
Adeline seemed to have a skip in her step as they walked out of the building. “What color will you paint it?”
“A deep green. The leather will be medium brown.” He smiled. “My housekeeper is having a pillow made for the bottom of Maximus’s box so that it can be washed.”
“That is a good idea.” Frits lifted her into the carriage and she scowled at him. “I am perfectly capable of getting in myself.”
He knew she would object at some point and had his answer ready. “But that takes too much time. One must let the steps down and put them back up again.”
She opened her lovely, deep pink lips and closed them again, shook her head, and gave him a skeptical look. All the while he maintained what he hoped to be an innocent expression. “If you would like, one day we can test my theory.”
Adeline smiled sweetly, and he knew that what was going to come out of her mouth was not going to be at all sweet. “I think that is an excellent idea, my lord. Perhaps when you take me home we can time it.”
“Perhaps. First, we must make our traditional stop at Gunter’s.” He climbed into the carriage and started the pair. “What flavor will you choose today?”
“I do not know.” She tilted her head to one side. “What do you recommend?”
“The lavender is nice and light. You might like it. My favorite is chocolate.”
“I think my favorite one will be Muscadine, but I must sample the others first.” The sun decided to make a stronger showing, and she opened her parasol.
If he looked closely, he could see very faint freckles on her face. She was most likely trying to avoid them darkening. It wouldn’t bother him if they were more noticeable. He liked freckles.
He avoided Oxford Street on their way back to Mayfair, thus missing much of the traffic. Soon, he pulled up outside of Gunter’s.
A waiter ran up to them. “What may I bring you?”
“What flavors do you have today?” He’d forgotten to mention to Adeline that the flavors changed.
“Today I can offer you bergamot and punch, royal cream, chocolate, burnt filbert, parmesan, lavender, violet, orange flower, and vanilla bean.”
“By punch I assume you mean the strong drink from the West Indies,” Frits clarified.
“Yes, sir.”
He glanced at Adeline. “Have you made a choice?”
“I shall try the parmesan.”
That was a daring selection. He preferred the sweeter ices. “I shall have the vanilla bean.” The waiter ran back into the shop. “If you like, you can try mine.”
“Thank you.” Sitting with her back against the bench, she had a satisfied look on her face. “I like coming here.”
So did he . . . with her. He had a vision of them at Littleton coming up with ideas for ices. What else could he find that she liked?
The ices were delivered, and after Frits finished his, leaving a spoonful or so for Adeline, he watched as she licked the last of the parmesan ice from her spoon. This was torture.
The parmesan was very good, but Adeline liked the Muscadine better. Lord Littleton held out his bowl, and she dipped her spoon into the vanilla bean, then tasted it. “I like this as much as the Muscadine.”
“Wait until you try the chocolate.” His tone was low and gruff. “That should be last.”
He did not look angry or in pain. What could be making him so different? “Are you so sure I will like it the best?”
“I am, but if you do not, it is no matter.” His dimple popped out. Now he was back to normal. “We can’t like all the same things.”
That stopped her. Did they have a preference for so many of the same things? She had been so involved in not wanting to like him, she had not even noticed what they had in common. She wanted to playfully ask him which things he meant, but she was afraid to know the answer.
Coward.
Maybe she was. That did not make her feel better. As muc
h as she had been enjoying her time with Lord Anglesey, it occurred to her that they did not talk about likes and dislikes very much. “I do not think it is possible for two people to enjoy all the same things.”
“You are probably right.” He signaled for the waiter and handed him their bowls. “We should leave before the rest of the ton joins us.”
“I agree.” She definitely did not want Dorie seeing her with Littleton at Gunter’s. That would be awkward.
He gathered the ribbons and started threading them through his fingers, then stopped. “I did ask you for the supper dance this evening, did I not?”
She could not remember. Lord Anglesey had had the last two. Yet, had Lord Littleton asked for this one the night before last? He always did ask for the supper dance, so he must have. Adeline was certain she had not given it to anyone else. She would have remembered if Lord Anglesey had requested it. “You did.”
“Oh, good. I’ve never attended so many balls before. I’m getting confused.” The carriage moved forward. “How is the planning for your come out ball going?”
“Well.” At least she thought it was. “There is a great deal to do. My mother is more worried than am I.”
He looked relieved, but why would he be concerned at all? “Who is standing up with you for your first dance?”
“My father.” At least she thought that was who was leading her out. “Or my brother. They have been going round and round about it. I understand it is usually a family member.”
“I would be honored to dance the supper dance with you.” He had such a boyishly hopeful look on his face, she laughed.
“And I shall accept.” She had missed standing up with him. He always made interesting conversation, and he listened to her. A tinge of guilt struck her, dampening her good mood. Anglesey was a much better match, and he was not a rake. She should be thinking more about him. Not only that, but she was beginning to doubt her first impression of Lord Littleton. He was not acting much like a rake. She must decide soon what to do if Lord Anglesey asked for her hand. “Have you been able to think of anyone whose land marches with Lord Turner’s?”