Love Finds Lord Davingdale

by Anne Gallagher

  Harry feigned a punch. “When speaking with the cousin, did you think to ask pertinent questions about your Ophelia?”

  Thomas shook his head no.

  “Gads, boy, what is wrong with you?”

  Thomas peeled off his shirt and stood. “The conversation did not warrant such as Lady Josephine was in a state. What would you have me do, blatantly ask if she was unmarried?”

  “Why not? It would have gotten you the answer you sought.”

  “Harry, please. Have you been so long out of genteel parlours you do not remember how to make the proper pretty?” He retrieved his glass of brandy. “I’m going to find some warm clothing and then I will see you to London.”

  “Never mind London. At least not today. I believe you have had enough adventure. Get yourself warm and dried. Tomorrow though, first thing in the morning.”

  Thomas sighed. If he had known Harry would release him from the trip, he would have stayed at Cummings Hall for a chance to speak with Ophelia, or at least ask pertinent questions.

  “Very well, Harry. First thing in the morning.”

  Chapter Five

  By nine o’clock the next morning, Harry sat in the back of the coach, bundled in four carriage blankets with ten hot bricks under his feet. Bright but cold, the day would be a long one for Thomas. Harry would not only want to purchase his book. No, Harry would want lunch at his club, coffee and a round of cards at another, and then dessert at a third. He may not frequent Society, but when he did, he enjoyed as much of it as he could.

  Pulling up in front of the bookseller, Thomas helped his uncle from the carriage. “I have several errands to run. I will return for you in an hour.”

  “Make it two,” Harry said. “Crowling and I have much to discuss.”

  “Very well. Should I warn White’s you will be dining today?”

  “Yes.” Harry jabbed at the air with his cane. “Tell that man I want the table by the window, not the one in the left dining room either. I cannot abide the fireplace in that room. I want to eat near the columns, by the window. Can you remember that?”

  “Yes, Uncle, by your leave.” Thomas would definitely warn Jacobs, the maitre d’ hotel at the club, his surly uncle would be dining. He was sure Jacobs would be thrilled to hear it.

  Driving through the streets of Piccadilly, Thomas spotted a flower shop. He stopped the team and tied them off, went into the shop and presented his card. The clerk showed him several bouquets, but nothing seemed quite right to Thomas. Looking around, he spied beautiful pink flowers in the corner.

  “Those, what are those?” he asked pointing.

  “Peonies, my lord. The symbol of happy marriage.” The clerk hovered.

  Happy marriage. Well, a little forward thinking on his part, but Thomas liked the flowers just the same. “Yes, I shall take those.”

  “Excellent choice.” The clerk began pulling the stems out of the bucket of water. “Twelve, my lord?”

  “Yes, and could you have them delivered to St. John’s Wood? I’ll pay extra.”

  “Of course, my lord. Shall you write the card?” He pushed a small piece of vellum and an inkpot forward.

  What to say…. I hope you are feeling better. Have fun at your ball tonight. My carriage will arrive at half-eight. T. Merrit

  Not the greatest poetry, but he presumed the flowers would speak for themselves.

  “Will there be anything else, my lord?”

  “No, thank you.” Thomas smiled as he sauntered out of the shop. He wondered what Ophelia would say about the flowers.

  Jacobs, stoic that he was, barely batted an eyelash when Thomas requested his uncle’s favorite table at White’s. He looked around while he was there, but seeing none of his acquaintance, headed for Caymore House. Perhaps William would have an hour to waste.

  William was not at home, however, Quiggins brought him down the hall where Lady Penelope welcomed him into the yellow salon.

  “Davingdale, it is so nice to see you,” she said.

  Thomas bent low over her hand. “Lady Pen, always a pleasure.”

  “Do sit down, would you care for a cup of tea? Quiggins was just bringing me one.”

  “That would be lovely, yes, thank you.” Thomas should have beaten a hasty retreat, but he liked William’s wife. When she wasn’t matchmaking, there was nothing to compare to her sparkling wit and vivacious intellect, especially when it came to horses. He’d never met another woman quite so enamoured of equine pursuits.

  Penny sat and said, “Tell me about the little mare you have found for William’s niece. You call her Lovely, do you not?”

  Quiggins brought the tea tray, and she and Thomas talked of the horses now inhabiting the barn at Merrit Manor.

  “William has related he wishes to move the animals to Westerly before the snow falls,” she said.

  “Aye, was supposed to have been done already, but without knowing when Iona was to foal, we did not want to take the chance of losing her. ‘Tis a long way to drive the animals, and we were also not sure how Lovely would have fared. I believe we may over winter them here in St. John’s this year. Perhaps in the spring we could take them over.”

  “I should very much like to come down to your manor and take a look at them one day.”

  “You are always welcome, Lady Pen.” The clock struck eleven. “Thank you for your company, but I believe I must take my leave. My uncle is at the bookshop and I must retrieve him.” Thomas stood.

  Penny stood as well. “You are coming to the ball tonight, are you not?” She walked with him out to the hall.

  “How could I miss it?” Thomas asked.

  “Even knowing I have several women to whom I would like to introduce you?” The twinkling in her eye made Thomas laugh.

  “Lady Pen, I’m sure William has mentioned that I am not looking for a wife at this time. Do you not have another chap you could foist your unmarried friends upon?”

  “As a matter of fact, I have several, but you are my especial favorite. I long for you to be comfortable, Davingdale. You are such a good friend to my William, and I only wish to repay all your many kindnesses to him, to us. A wife would bring you so much joy.”

  Thomas stopped at the front door and took her hands in his. “Lady Penelope, I cherish the friendship I hold with William and now, with you.” He paused. “I will tell you a secret, but only so that you will refrain from your matchmaking this evening.”

  Penny’s eyes lit up like a child opening a present.

  “I have met a woman and soon hope to secure a place in her heart. Now, that is all I will tell you, so you must be content.” He didn’t dare ask if she knew Ophelia. That would lead to many questions he did not want to ask or answer.

  She squeezed his hands. “Oh, Davingdale, that is such wonderful news. I wish you every happiness.”

  “I have only just met her so there is still some debate we will suit, but I have every notion that we will. I dare say you would like her very much if you could meet her.”

  “I am sure that I shall. And I promise, no matchmaking this evening.” She smiled.

  Thomas kissed both her hands. “You are too good by half, Lady Pen. I will see you this evening.” He took his hat and coat from Quiggins and departed Caymore House.

  Harry was in fine mettle when they arrived for luncheon at the club, and Thomas listened to his great uncle blather on about his books. Two hours later, they drove to the Bainbridge, as Harry hadn’t been in awhile and had coffee and dessert with a few of his old friends there. By the time they headed back to Merrit Manor, the sun was sloping in the west and Thomas wanted to check Iona and her foal before he washed and dressed for the ball. Graves would have taken care of anything of import, but Thomas worried about the little black filly. The weather was biting and he wanted to make sure the drafts in the old barn didn’t work their way into her lungs.

  After checking his horses, and partaking of a cozy dinner with Harry and Aggie by the fire in the kitchen, Thomas took himself up to his rooms
, and bathed and dressed for the ball. Thankfully, black never went out of style. Although a little careworn in the cuffs, the suit was still serviceable. He brushed his hair back from his face and tied it back in a queue. Wouldn’t do to look like a libertine, just in case he met with Ophelia. Wouldn’t that be a surprise to both of them? However, he doubted very much if Ophelia would be attending his friend’s lavish affair. With her serviceable coat and bonnet, and the meager estate of her cousin, Lady Cummings, Thomas did not for one moment think Ophelia was anything more than landed gentry. An invitation for her to attend Lady Pen’s ball was ludicrous.

  He made his way downstairs to the library to say good-bye to Harry before he left.

  “How do I look?” Thomas asked.

  “Like any of the swells attending,” Harry said barely looking up from his new book.

  “What of my cravat? I tied it myself.” Usually, Harry had to tie it for him.

  Harry looked up and his eyebrow rose. “Did you? Your arm is working this evening?”

  “Yes, did I not mention it? It seems when I rescued Miss Cummings I regained almost all the strength back.”

  “Well, that is good news, my boy, excellent news in fact. I must remember to thank the chit when I meet her.”

  Thomas smiled. “Let us hope that will be soon, Uncle. Well, I am off. Do not wait up.”

  Harry chuckled. “As if I would. Take every opportunity to enjoy yourself.”

  Thomas departed and made his way out to the barn. Graves had set out long before to attend Miss Cummings with the carriage, and as Thomas saddled Helios, he wondered again if Ophelia would be at the ball.

  Chapter Six

  Thomas slipped into the library before heading upstairs to greet his hosts. There he found Robert, his good friend, the Duke of Cantin, and they shared a short tot together.

  “Where have you been?” Robert asked. “I presumed you would be here earlier for drinks in the salon.”

  Thomas smiled. “Tell me, Robert, how many single females were in attendance this evening?”

  “Oh, I would hazard to guess three, although I did not make their acquaintance.”

  “Yes, and I’m sure Lady Pen has several more in the wings.” Thomas grimaced. “She is on a mission to secure me a wife.”

  Robert laughed. “That is what William told me, but I did not think it true. I would have thought she’d given up the notion of matchmaking after Winsbarren.”

  “Winsbarren was lucky he found his own wife. It seems Lady Pen has taken up the idea of matchmaking as an art form, and I am her latest subject.”

  “You could do no worse than to have Penny by your side.”

  “Oh, but it is all so tedious. The women she introduces me to are all fluff and no substance. Not one of them has an intelligent thought in her head.”

  “Ha! You mean the lady in question does not give a fig about horses is what you are trying to say.”

  Thomas drained his glass. “You know me too well. Come, shall you accompany me upstairs? Perhaps help me fend off whomever it is Lady Pen will foist upon me.”

  “As you wish.”

  The two men headed to the ballroom.

  Thomas stopped greet to several acquaintance and lost Robert in the throng of guests. In the corner of the room where Robert now stood, he spied a young woman dressed in a strange looking gown talking to the wives of his friends. This must be one of Lady Pen’s introductions. She was handsome enough, but not enough to tempt him. Well, he would play the cad and not offer an introduction. He slowly made his way over and stood with Will’s brother, the Marquess of Haverlane.

  When the dancing commenced, Thomas took himself off to the refreshment table in the dining room. He had gained a reputation that he was no dancer, although secretly he enjoyed it. Or rather, he had when he had the use of both arms. With his left arm in such a contrary state, he did not wish to embarrass himself this evening. He would rather wait until he knew it would not give out on him. There was nothing worse than looking the fool on a dance floor.

  He had just picked up a glass of champagne when he heard his name spoken. He turned and found himself face to face with Lady Olivia, Lady Pen’s dowager aunt and the bane of existence for half the men in England. Notorious for meddling in other’s affairs, especially in Parliamental affairs, she was a harridan of the first water. However, if she liked you, her kindness knew no bounds. Thomas wasn’t sure where he stood with her.

  “Lady Olivia, how do you do?” He bowed. He could not ignore her acquaintance.

  “Very well, Davingdale, and yourself?” she picked up a glass of lemonade.

  “Very well, thank you. You are looking lovely this evening,” he said.

  She shot him a quick smile. “How is your uncle?”

  “He is well, thank you for asking. May I present him with your regards?”

  “Of course.” She gave him the once over. “I must say, you are looking better than I’ve ever seen you, Davingdale. How do you fare with your injury?”

  He flexed his left arm. “Very well indeed, Lady Olivia. It seems the strength has finally returned, although I’m not sure for how long.”

  “That is very good news. I’m glad to hear it. William tells me you have been doing a lot of work to Merrit Manor these days.”

  “Yes, my lady. My venture with William has brought much needed capital to the project. I fear poor Harry had to endure rather pallid conditions after I went into the Army.”

  Lady Olivia touched his arm. “Yes, but that could not be helped.”

  “No, it could not.” Everyone knew the story of his father and his squandering away the family fortune. Thomas had been left no choice but to join the Army.

  “But now, here you are, hale and whole, bringing the Davingdale title back to its former glory.”

  Thomas bowed his head to accept the compliment.

  “I believe Penny means to give a small luncheon on the morrow. Just our good friends. With all she has to do this evening, I do not doubt she would forget to invite you, so here I shall. Say, two o’clock. Why do not you invite your uncle as well? I’m sure he would find the afternoon diverting.”

  “Thank you very much, Lady Olivia. I look forward to it. However, I do not know if Harry will attend. He has recently acquired several new books to peruse on his thesis so I’m not sure if he would tear himself away.”

  Lady Olivia laughed. “Still thinking he can make mere mortals out of gods, is he? Well, good for him. Very well, I shall see you at luncheon.”

  She walked away and Thomas shook his head. What was that all about?

  Thomas met some friends of his Uncle Harry and spoke to them for the better part of an hour, before heading downstairs to the library. A few quick games of cards landed him with an extra twenty pounds in his pocket. Perhaps he could afford the boots he had seen in Hoby’s window this morning. Back upstairs, he found William and told him about the new foal. William was delighted. Robert and his sister, the Marchioness of Emmons joined them and they engaged in conversation about Lovely for quite some time. Robert’s wife, Lady Fiona, claimed him for a dance, and William escorted his cousin, the Marchioness to the floor.

  Thomas found himself standing next to the woman wearing the odd-looking gown. He glanced down and found her squinting at him, a smile glued to her face. Under such scrutiny, Thomas grew uncomfortable.

  “Forgive me,” she said. “We have not been introduced. My name is Miss Trent.”

  “Davingdale,” he said perhaps a bit too gruffly. She did not seem put off.

  “Is this not a lovely evening?” She sighed rapturously.

  “Yes, if you like these affairs.” Davingdale hoped his curt responses would limit her chatter.

  “You are not having a pleasant time?”

  “I am here reluctantly. I do not generally attend these events.” He hoped that would be enough to deter her from wishing to speak to him again.

  “Ah, Davingdale,” Lady Penelope said as she approached them. “Have you met o
ur lovely Miss Trent?”

  “Yes, Lady Pen, we have been introduced.” He raised his brow at her.

  “Delightful. Pray, why do not you take her for a turn then? I hear the musicians tuning a waltz. The first of the evening.”

  “Forgive me,” he said. “As you know, I do not dance. If you would excuse me.” He nodded to both women and walked away feeling like the veriest churl. He prayed Lady Pen would forgive him for insulting her friend, but Thomas could not stand the way the woman seemed to be inspecting him, as if looking to find fault. Her too-close examination disconcerted him. However, that was no excuse for his boorish behaviour. He would make his apologies to Lady Pen on the morrow.

  Finding his way downstairs once again, he refused to leave the card table. He had no need to remain in the ballroom, especially if Lady Pen was up to mischief. He won another thirty-five pounds from two drunken dandies who thought they were brilliant at card tricks. His years with the regiment had taught him every one in the book. As the clock struck one, Thomas felt it was time to say good-bye to his hosts. Morning chores with the horses came early.

  Upstairs, he could not find Lady Pen, or William. It was of no consequence, he would see them at luncheon the next day. He raced down the stairs, as he could not help the feeling someone followed him. He had no wish to turn around, his only desire, to ride as fast as he could through the frigid air and find his bed.

  Outside, he saw his carriage and Graves slumped on the seat. Thinking Graves had already brought Miss Cummings home and he had come to get him, he asked, “What are you doing here?”

  “Waiting for Miss Cummings,” muttered the sleepy reply.