by Ella Quinn
“You do.” He leaned back in the dark brown leather chair. “She is enjoying her first Season. She is very pretty—at least I think so—and amiable as well. Even when I try her temper, she manages not to give me a bear garden jaw.”
He debated telling the man that he had already been introduced, but decided not to. Joining Miss Turley for tea was as good a place as any to begin, Geoff supposed. “I have no other obligations. In fact, I would be delighted.”
“Excellent.” The other man set his cup down and rose. “We shall see you at three o’clock this afternoon.”
He rose as well and held out his hand. “I look forward to it.”
Once Turley was gone, Geoff tried to remember everything he could about the man’s sister. She was pretty. Although, he could not remember much about her features. Her brother had blue eyes. He assumed she would as well. There could be no objection to her breeding. The title was quite old. They had come over with the Normans if he remembered correctly. To his knowledge, there had never been a scandal in the family. His grandmother would know more about that. After Lady Charlotte had introduced him to Miss Turley he had stood up with her for one country dance. As best he could recall, she was a graceful dancer and had kept up the conversation with him. Whether or not she was suitable to be his wife was yet to be determined. He shrugged. With any luck, he would know more later today.
Chapter Two
Geoff went into the dining room and ordered breakfast. Therefore it was more than an hour later before he hired a hackney to take him to Markham House in Grosvenor Square where his grandmother resided during the Season.
Her elderly butler opened the door. He half expected the old servant to creak like an ill-oiled hinge when the man bowed. “My lord, welcome. Her ladyship is in her parlor.”
“Thank you, Gibson. Can you tell me if that blasted parrot is with her?”
“The admiral is taking his exercise, my lord. I shall announce you.”
Geoff gave thanks to the deity. After the animal had bloodied his fingers when he was a child, he had not been able to stand his grandmother’s damn bird. “That is quite all right. I can find my way.”
Before the butler could protest, Geoff gave the servant his hat, ignored the faint look of censure on the man’s face, and swiftly ascended the stairs. He turned right at the landing, then left down the corridor toward the back of the house.
When he reached his grandmother’s apartments, he knocked. Several moments later, a cousin, almost the same age as Grandmamma, opened the door.
“Harrington, how nice of you to visit us. I see you did not wish to wait for Gibson.” One might expect an indigent relation to curtsey and scrape, but not Cousin Apollonia. Although, that was to the good when it came to his grandmother. “You probably hurt his feelings.”
“Better hurt feelings than an injury.” It wouldn’t have surprised Geoff if the servant had fallen down the stairs. “He’s not very steady on his pins. How is it he has not been made to retire?” He gave his cousin an affectionate peck on the cheek she offered.
“I must say I agree that he has become quite wobbly. Yet, for all that, her ladyship does not wish for a younger butler. She says it would unsettle her. One cannot really blame her. You know how set in her ways she is. Having to train someone new would try her nerves.” Apollonia placed her hand on Geoff’s arm. “Not only that, but having never married and possessing no family, it would be cruel to make poor Gibson leave his home and friends.”
Well, that put Geoff in his place. “When you put it that way, it makes me feel unkind to have wished him in retirement. I suppose I shall just have to continue to help him from falling down the stairs.” They were strolling from the antechamber decorated in cream, a green color that looked like the sage in his mother’s garden, and gilt, to his grandmother’s parlor that always reminded him of being in a garden. “How is Grandmamma doing?”
“She has not slowed down at all.” His cousin smiled fondly. “I think she believes all her gadding around keeps her young. Although”—Apollonia slanted him a look—“we no longer dance until the small hours of the morning. Midnight is our preferred time to return home.” She tapped a finger on his arm. “If you attend Lady Holland’s ball this evening, I shall expect you to stand up with her. She prefers dancing with younger men. She claims they are more spritely.”
Geoff bit back a laugh. “Of course I’ll dance with her.”
Yet, if this evening was like any other, his grandmother would not lack for suitable dance partners.
“And not only her ladyship,” Apollonia continued. “There should be at least a few marriageable young ladies with whom you may stand up. If their dance cards are not full. Still, it is the end of the Season and many in the ton have traveled to Brussels.”
Trust his cousin to be awake on all suits. Still, the incident with Charlotte had only just occurred. “How do you know about Lady Charlotte?”
“My dear boy”—Cousin Apollonia raised one red brow—“the news that Lady Charlotte would wed Kenilworth was all over Town before you returned. You played your hand very badly when it came to her.”
Had he truly been so blind concerning Charlotte? He thought he’d done all that was necessary to secure her hand. But wait. “Before I returned?”
“Surely you noticed all the attention he paid her?”
“I did, yet I did not know they were betrothed.” And she had never said a word about being betrothed, which was strange.
“You cannot imagine that people would simply come up to you and tell you?”
“No.” Though he wished someone would have stopped him from making a fool of himself.
Apollonia drew him through the double doors leading to Grandmamma’s parlor. “Look who has come to see us.”
Grandmamma turned to face him, and Geoff quickly stepped forward and went down on one knee in front of her chair, taking her hands in his. She would not see seventy again, but she looked and acted a decade or so younger. “Grandmamma, you are even lovelier than ever.”
“Palaverer.” Her tone was stern but her warm gray eyes danced. “You should be ashamed to offer an old lady a Spanish coin.”
“Not I. I am not so untruthful.” He stood and bowed. “I am here to beg a dance from you and to solicit your help in finding a wife.”
Her lips curved into a smile. “I shall be glad to help with both.”
He pulled a footstool over and sat at her knee. “That is what I hoped you would say.”
* * *
“Well, young lady.” Miss Elizabeth Turley’s aunt, Lady Bristow, sailed into the Turley House morning room and took a seat. “Lord Harrington has returned, and he is in desperate need of a bride.”
Elizabeth set down her embroidery hoop and took a breath. She had known her good friend, Charlotte, had decided not to accept Harrington. If he ever got around to proposing, which he had not. She had even introduced Harrington to Elizabeth.
Still . . . desperate for a wife? That did not sound good. “How do you know?”
A footman came in with a fresh pot of tea, set it down, and left. Elizabeth began to pour. Fixing her aunt’s cup as she liked it.
“I had it from Lady Collingwood. He has been accepted for a posting with Sir Charles Stuart, but he must be married. And, as you are aware, Lady Charlotte will have none of him. In fact, Lady St. John saw her riding in Kenilworth’s carriage this morning, followed by Lady Merton’s coach a few minutes later. So, Harrington has clearly been rejected.” Aunt Bristow accepted the cup of tea from Elizabeth. “He must leave for the Continent shortly if he is to take the position, and he must have a wife.” Taking a sip she raised a brow. “The question you must answer is what you are prepared to accept.”
She had been wondering where Charlotte had gone when what Aunt said caught Elizabeth’s attention. “Accept?” She tasted her tea and added more sugar. Aunt had clearly decided to add more Assam to the blend than Elizabeth preferred. “I do not understand.”
“Two or thr
ee weeks is hardly time enough for a love match,” her aunt scoffed. “Will you accept compatibility with a chance for love to grow later?”
Absolutely not. That was exactly what her cousin Lavvie had done, and the marriage had been a disaster. Only her husband’s death had saved her. Not only that, but from what Elizabeth had seen this Season, two weeks time was more than sufficient to fall in love. Lady Louisa Vivers, now the Duchess of Rothwell, had done it in a few days if not sooner. Dotty and Merton had not taken long either. In fact their gentlemen had fallen in love as well. As for Charlotte, she had taken longer to fall in love with Lord Kenilworth, but she must have for she would not have agreed to marry him unless she was in love, and he was in love with her.
Elizabeth was perfectly aware that did not mean she and Lord Harrington would fall in love in that short of a period. Yet, a few weeks would be plenty of time to know if they could have a love match. She had to ensure there was a chance of love before she could agree to marry a man.
“I do not know,” she said slowly, setting her cup down. Elizabeth selected a piece of seed cake. “It will depend how I feel about him.” At first Lord Harrington had reminded her of Lord Merton with his tall, blond looks. Lord Harrington, though, didn’t have the same somber disposition Merton had had until he married Dotty. That most likely came from still having a father and mother. Lord Harrington’s blue eyes seemed to smile more often than not. The problem was that his orbs had been trained almost exclusively on Lady Charlotte all Season.
Taking a bite of the cake, Elizabeth savored the blend of spices, considering her aunt’s question. “Firstly, I must get him to notice me. It would be extremely helpful if Gavin was friends with him.”
“Friends with whom?” Her brother strolled into the room and snatched up three pieces of cake and began to gollop them down as if he had not eaten a substantial breakfast just two hours ago.
“Lord Harrington.” Elizabeth poured him a cup of tea, adding extra sugar and milk.
One side of his mouth tipped up. A definite sign that he was up to something. “I was at Eton and Oxford with him. Why?” Finishing the cake, Gavin lowered his long frame down onto a chair across the table from her and took the teacup.
“I believe Harrington would be an excellent match for your sister,” their aunt said as she appeared to study Gavin for several moments. “We need to find a way to bring her to his attention.”
“Were you?” Elizabeth asked her brother. “You never mentioned it before.” Ideas began flying through her mind until one stuck. “You,” she said to Gavin, “could invite him to dinner this week.”
Her brother’s eyes widened innocently as he swallowed the rest of his tea. “Could I, indeed?”
“Yes, and I think you should,” Elizabeth said decisively.
Setting his cup down, he began to rise when the tip of Aunt’s cane hit him in the stomach. He made a slight “oofing” sound. “Not so fast, young man. We have some plans to make.”
Gavin looked ready to bolt, and if Elizabeth didn’t do something quickly, she would lose her chance. “You have been after me all Season to marry. You have even held up Lady Louisa’s and Lady Charlotte’s matches to me. Their brother helped them. It is your turn to assist me.”
“Aside from that,” their aunt said, not moving the cane from Gavin’s flat stomach, “Harrington is searching for a bride. He must marry or lose the position his father managed to talk Castlereagh into giving to him. Elizabeth is correct. You should invite him to join us for dinner.”
Gavin leaned back against the chair, and Elizabeth quickly handed him more tea and the last piece of cake. “There is nothing wrong with inviting him to dinner, but I have an even better idea. I shall invite him to tea.”
Aunt’s sharp gaze focused on Gavin, and her cane resumed its place next to her chair. “Why tea?”
“It is more informal. If they like each other, you or Lizzy could suggest they take a stroll in the garden or some such thing.” Absently, her brother devoured the cake. “And if that goes well, we can ask if he’d like to accompany us to the ball one evening or dine with us another evening.” Gavin raised a lazy brow and focused on her. “Will that do?”
Tea? She considered her brother’s offer. That would give her an opportunity to get to know Harrington a little more. Elizabeth graced her brother with a wide smile. “It will, indeed. Thank you. Let me know once you have spoken to his lordship, and he has agreed to join us for tea.”
“As it happens”—Gavin smirked—“I saw him earlier today at White’s, and I have already invited him for today.”
“Gavin, you wretch!” Elizabeth wished there was something hard at hand to throw at him, but settled for a pillow. “Why did you not tell us straightaway?”
Catching the pillow, he grinned at her before placing it on the sofa. “It was much more fun to see you and Aunt try to wheedle me in to doing something for you.”
He swallowed the rest of his tea. “I’ll see you later.”
“Where are you going?” Aunt asked.
Gavin’s eyes widened. “To Tattersalls and my clubs. I’ll wager Harrington is not the only gentleman seeking a wife this Season.”
“Indeed he is not.” Their aunt nodded. “I am delighted to see you are finally taking your sister’s desire to find a husband seriously. Please be back for tea.”
“To be sure, I will.” He grinned. “Never let it be said that I did not support my sister’s marital ambitions.”
“Well, that was not what you said about Merton!” Elizabeth reminded her brother.
“Merton wouldn’t have done for you, Lizzy.” Gavin bent down and kissed her cheek.
“Gavin,” Elizabeth said, suddenly worried over her lack of knowledge. “I do not know Lord Harrington well. What is he like?”
Her brother’s brows drew together slightly. “Nice chap. Gets on well with almost everyone. Devilish clever. Took a first at Oxford. One can’t call him bookish because he’s interested in sports as well. Not much in the petticoat line, which should make you happy.”
“Gavin Turley,” Aunt said in a derisive tone. “You know better than to mention a subject like that to your sister.”
“Better she knows now than find out later. Look at what happened to Lavinia. If anyone had bothered to tell her what Manners was, I doubt she would have married him.”
“I cannot deny that.” Aunt’s lips pressed together as if she’d eaten a lemon.
“Can we get back to discussing Lord Harrington?” Not that Elizabeth didn’t agree that her cousin’s marriage was the worst imaginable, but she needed to know as much as she could about Lord Harrington before his visit this afternoon. And now was her only opportunity to do so. “What else can you tell me?”
Gavin sat back down. “He can be a bit stuffy. Nothing like Merton, of course. But he, or rather his father, is concerned about breeding, scandals, and alike.”
“There is nothing wrong with the Turleys,” Aunt opined. “If there had been, your mother would not have been allowed to wed your father. And neither side of your family has had any scandals whatsoever. Not even an elopement.”
“We’re a dull set,” Gavin said as he grinned at Elizabeth.
“There is nothing dull about it at all.” Their aunt glared at him. “It simply means that we have more sense than many others.”
It occurred to Elizabeth that she was missing a crucial piece of information. “Gavin, what made you invite Lord Harrington to tea? You have never done anything like that before, even when I suggested it previously.”
“Ah.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I was at White’s this morning trying to get some news on what the Corsican was doing, when he came in the morning room. We started talking and he mentioned he was in the market for a wife. I thought about it for a few moments, and decided that you and he might rub along well together. You have always wanted to travel, and, as everyone and their dog knows, he is going to work for Sir Charles Stuart.”
She almost groan
ed. This had the potential to be extremely awkward. “What you are saying is that we will both be attempting to see if we would like to come to know one another better.”
“Precisely.” Her brother looked relieved. “Look, Lizzy, you don’t have to decide to marry him today.”
“Well, that’s true,” she mumbled to herself. “If he comes.”
“Don’t worry.” He grinned. “I’ll bring him up to scratch.”
Chapter Three
After visiting his grandmother, Geoff strode into his rooms where his valet, Nettle, awaited him.
“Welcome back, my lord.” Nettle held the door open as Geoff entered. “Were you able to decide on a date for the wedding?”
Suddenly feeling weary, he handed the servant his hat and gloves. “There will be no wedding to Lady Charlotte. I’d like a brandy, bath, and luncheon in that order.”
The news appeared to stun his usually imperturbable valet as it was a moment before Nettle responded. “Very good, my lord.”
Not good at all. Several minutes later, Geoff had donned his banyan, and was sitting in his small, but well-appointed, parlor with a glass of madeira in his hand. Starting over again did not appeal to him in the least. Still, there was nothing he could do about it. Worthington evidently favored Kenilworth’s suit over Geoff’s own. If only he had not left Town, he was sure he could have either been wed to Lady Charlotte by now or had a date to marry. How could he have been so wrong about what he had thought was their understanding?
He took a large drink of wine, savoring the warmth as the liquid slid down his throat. He detested having to go through all the work of courting a lady again. Yet, whichever lady he decided to marry, he must press for an early wedding date and leave for the Continent directly after the ceremony.
The Austrians and Prussians had already fought and won their battles against Napoleon’s brother-in-law, Joachim Murat, King of Naples, and restored Ferdinand IV to the throne. But since then the Corsican remained ensconced in Paris raising an army, and Wellington was gathering his army in Brussels.