The Favor: The Blooms of Norfolk

by Angelina Jameson

  “It is perfect!” Iris clapped her hands. “Ready for occupancy. Our things will be moved tomorrow.”

  Lottie already knew this. She’d discussed the matter with Iris before dinner and mentioned the married couple should take a few days to get used to their new home before she joined them.

  “Chastain did say something to that point,” Iris said as her cheeks grew pink.

  Lottie took another bite of her dessert, wishing it was time to leave for the card party. She was looking forward to the possibility of seeing Lord Peake.

  * * * * *

  Peake studied his reflection in the long glass in the corner of his bedchamber. Although he was not dressed in the height of fashion, he looked presentable. His favorite gray coat with matching waistcoat were nearly two years old but serviceable.

  His father’s debts were cleared. The rents this year should be more than enough to allow him to finally indulge in a new wardrobe. As he was no longer in such grave financial difficulties, he had more time to look for a proper wife.

  “You are satisfied, my lord?” Baines asked, his accompanying smile wide. He looked amused.

  “You have done the best you could with the tools at hand,” Peake answered.

  Baines might very well be pleased. Peake had never shown much interest in his own appearance before. If he told Baines he was interested in updating his clothing, the man might well dance a jig.

  The card party was to be held at the mansion of Lord and Lady Bingham. They resided in Belgravia. He vaguely knew Lord Bingham from chambers.

  Peake took a hackney carriage to Belgravia.

  A footman took his hat when he arrived. Peake could hear conversation from the drawing room. He entered to find some five tables set up for cards. His gaze found Lottie and he felt a strange sort of relief to see her. She wore blue again. The color was perfect with her golden hair and fair complexion.

  He next endeavored to locate his hostess. She stood to one side of the room, talking with Lady Cair and Miss Davis. There was nothing for it—manners must be maintained.

  “Good evening, Lady Bingham, Lady Cair, Miss Davis.” He bowed.

  Lady Bingham inclined her head. “Lord Peake, I am so pleased you could attend my little party. Now our numbers are even. You have already met the lovely Miss Davis?”

  “Indeed, I have. I hope you are well this evening, miss.”

  The lady replied sweetly, “Quite well, sir.”

  He nodded brusquely. “If you will excuse me, I should like to speak with Lord Chastain on some important business as I have been some time away from town. Good evening.”

  He heard a whispered, “Well, I never,” from Lady Cair.

  His departure had been abrupt. He didn’t look forward to being pressed into playing cards with Miss Davis. Simpering misses were not his cup of tea.

  “Chastain!” He put a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

  “Peake!” The other man turned to him. “I thought you might be some while. Lady Cair is losing her touch.”

  “I did tell a bouncer. She believes we have important business to discuss. Good evening, Lady Chastain, Lady Lottie.”

  “Ambrose sends his regards, Lord Peake,” Iris replied. “Thank you for your visit to Marcourt.”

  “We are indebted to you for assessing Ambrose’s well-being,” Lottie said with a sweet smile. “Although it looks like he is still losing some weight, my brother tells us his headaches have all but gone.”

  He sketched a shallow bow. “I am glad I could be of service. I will call on Ambrose tomorrow.”

  A bell sounded.

  “We should sit at a table before we are moved elsewhere,” Chastain said as he took a seat at a mahogany card table with maize interior.

  Peake and Lottie were partners for a game of Whist. Lottie was a fearless player, taking numerous tricks. He enjoyed partnering with the lady. She was a master at the game.

  “We won!” Lottie was all smiles.

  The bell rang again. Lady Bingham stood up from her own table to announce, “One person has to move to the next table.”

  Peake volunteered to move. After all, he was not to show a too-marked interest in Lottie.

  He sat at a table with Lord Bingham, Lady Cair, and a matron he had met only briefly. Lady Cair expressed a desire to partner with Bingham. He and the matron were soundly beaten, a happenstance which looked to give Lady Cair some satisfaction. He evidently would not soon be forgiven. When the bell rang again, Lady Cair expressed a desire to move.

  Miss Davis joined his table. “How lovely to sit with you, Lord Peake.”

  He was paired with the lady. The young woman was as indifferent a player as the matron. Their contest ended up being between himself and Bingham. He barely squeaked out the win.

  The bell rang. Their hostess signaled a break for refreshment. The matron at his table stood and excused herself.

  “Miss Davis?” He held out his arm. Bingham had also disappeared.

  The young woman took his arm. They walked to the refreshment table, where Miss Davis released him to place some of the available delicacies onto a plate.

  He heard a strange laugh. His head jerked up, and his eyes scanned the assemblage. Lottie stood to one side of the room, Lord Halford beside her. She laughed again, a high-pitched sound. The couple were partially turned away from him, but it looked as if Lord Halford might have his hand around one of Lottie’s wrists.

  “Excuse me,” he said to the young woman next to him.

  He strode to Lottie’s side. The earl released Lottie’s wrist. “Lady Lottie, your sister has requested your presence.”

  “Excuse me, Lord Halford. I must see to my sister.” Lottie looked up at him, relief on her features.

  He held out his arm. Lottie grasped it. He ignored Lord Halford. Without speaking, he marched Lottie to Iris. “May I be of any further assistance, Lady Lottie? Would you care for some refreshment?”

  “Thank you but no, Lord Peake. You have done enough. I appreciate your aid.” She smiled at him before looking down at the floor.

  He excused himself and returned to the refreshment table. Miss Davis had moved away. She now sat on a settee, her plate in her lap. She didn’t look his way. If she intended to ignore him, he didn’t blame her. Nor would he be distressed. Lottie had needed his assistance; she’d been upset. He now knew the timbre of her laugh when she was uncomfortable. He would not pry as to the conversation he’d interrupted. When he visited Ambrose tomorrow, he would ask after Lottie.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Whatever is the matter?” Iris asked. “You look pale. Did Lord Peake upset you?”

  “Oh no! Lord Peake rescued me from that boor Lord Halford.”

  Iris looked at her face intently. “What happened, dearest?”

  “Lord Halford told me he knew Ambrose had returned to town. He said he would call on our brother to ask for my hand.”

  Iris frowned. “You turned down his proposal last season.”

  “He believes I do not know my own mind.”

  Iris made an ill-mannered noise. “How did you reply?”

  “I laughed at him. I didn’t mean to. You know I laugh when I’m nervous. Lord Halford was upset I laughed at him, so of course I laughed again.” She sighed. “He is rather annoyed with me.”

  “Do you want me to speak to Chastain? Lord Peake looked livid just now. I’m surprised he hasn’t approached Lord Halford.”

  She looked to where Lord Peake stood, sending daggers with his eyes to the gentleman in question. If she told Iris the earl had grasped her wrist in anger, she was worried Iris would tell Chastain. Lord Halford was speaking with their hostess. A moment later, Halford exited the drawing room.

  Lottie touched her sister’s arm. “Please don’t say anything to Chastain until we are alone.”

  “I won’t,” Iris replied. “We should take our leave.”

  She shook her head. “Let us stay a while longer. I don’t want to draw attention to myself by leaving so soon
after Lord Halford.”

  The bell rang. They took their places at a table, their original four together again. The expression on Peake’s face was as dour as she had ever seen it. Iris suggested Lottie and Chastain make a pair.

  Chastain must have sensed the undercurrents at the table as he teased the ladies, lightening the atmosphere. “We have you now! Lottie is a superior player and I am as well.”

  “You are over-confident, husband.” Iris sniffed.

  “It is well-deserved. I excel at every pursuit.”

  Peake chortled. “Do you now? I remember Sir Thomas thrashing you at billiards.”

  “Peake! Don’t you have any loyalty?” Chastain asked with a grin.

  “I do not. All is fair in love and cards.”

  Lottie and Chastain won the game. The bell rang. Although her mood had lifted, it was time to go home. “Shall we take our leave?”

  “That is a splendid idea,” Iris replied.

  When they were in the carriage, Peake seated beside her, he said, “I hope to see you tomorrow when I call on Ambrose, Lady Lottie. To make sure you are well.”

  “That would be lovely. I will be at home.” She didn’t know what else to say. Lord Peake had again shown a great kindness to her family.

  Too soon the coach halted at Peake’s rooms in Albany. He made his goodbyes and vaulted from the carriage. She felt bereft when he was gone.

  * * * * *

  “I require nothing else this evening,” Peake said to his man.

  He knew the memory of Lottie in distress would hamper his ability to sleep. A look over his financial papers would distract him.

  An hour later he concluded that his finances were brighter than he would have allowed himself to believe. If he were to marry, he could afford to let a modest townhouse and keep a carriage without having to marry an heiress. He would not be marrying Miss Bolton.

  After the lady had made her announcement about her “medicines” at dinner, her mother had fainted. In the resulting uproar, he’d taken his leave. When he called the next day to check on Lady Bolton, her husband asked him for a quick word in his study.

  “You must be curious about what my daughter said to you last evening,” the baron said as he paced restlessly.

  Seated on the edge of a chair, he replied, “It is none of my concern, Lord Bolton.”

  “We took Isabelle to see several doctors, you see. Her moods were up and down. All of the doctors prescribed medicines to control her tempers.” The man stopped his pacing. He threw up his hands. “I have been advised to place Isabelle in a sanatorium.”

  “Many fashionable families choose to lock away family members who are difficult.” He paused. “Although it is not my place to comment, I do not think your daughter should be confined merely because she is boisterous.”

  “It was my idea to take the girl to see a doctor. I wanted her to conform to what I thought a lady should be. My wife has suggested she and Isabelle return to our former home in Yorkshire for a time. She believes familiar surroundings may help Isabelle.” Lord Bolton ran a hand through his thinning hair. “My becoming a peer a few years ago was quite a shock to our family. Lady Bolton thinks Isabelle needs more time to understand her new place in society.”

  He suddenly felt ashamed of his past aversion to Miss Bolton’s vibrant personality. What did he know of her struggles to fit into her new life? Although he’d been raised a peer, he had his own problems in society.

  “If I can assist your family in any way, Lord Bolton, please let me know.”

  His mother had been concerned to hear why Miss Bolton was no longer the lively girl she remembered. “They can’t send the girl to an institution. I will call on Lady Bolton myself. There must be a better way to help the girl other than pouring potions down her throat.”

  “I had thought to court Miss Bolton.” He shook his head. “I don’t think we would suit.”

  “I guessed she was part of the reason you came home. Do you have any feelings for the girl, Edward?” His mother studied his face.

  “No. None. I do wish her well.”

  Before he left for London, he spoke with his mother about James’s death.

  “I didn’t realize you were so angry with your father,” the viscountess said. “To hold onto so much resentment all these years is not a good thing.” She reached out and patted his hand where he sat next to her on a long sofa.

  “He ran away to London.”

  “That was the only way he could deal with your brother’s death. Your father wasn’t perfect, Edward. I forgave him, and you should too.”

  It was hard to let go of the anger, the resentment.

  His mother squeezed his hand. “It’s up to you, my son. You need to decide if you want to be happy. If you do, let the past go.”

  The carriage ride back to London had given him plenty of time to think about what he wanted.

  His thoughts turned again and again to Lottie. The lady did not appear to despise him as she once had. Perhaps she might even like him. Once he allowed his mind to take him to that place, he could not leave it. Where once he had thought himself immune to the finer feelings for a woman other than his mother, he was surprised to feel a tenderness for Lottie.

  “I want to court her,” he said aloud. The idea had been in the back of his mind before he’d left London despite his not wanting to acknowledge it. He wanted to be happy. When Lottie was near, he was happy.

  * * * * *

  “I will call on him tomorrow,” Chastain said when Lottie told him about the incident with Lord Halford.

  Lord Peake had just left the carriage. Chastain had asked what was amiss, and she had rushed to assure him the problem wasn’t with Lord Peake.

  “He rescued me. Please let it stand, Chastain. For my sake. I could not bear the attention.”

  Chastain sighed heavily. “I will heed your wishes, Lottie. I would cause you no further discomfort. It is a good thing Peake rescued you from an uncomfortable situation.”

  When their party reached the townhouse, Iris followed Lottie to her bedchamber. She asked Lottie’s maid to fetch a tonic from the housekeeper to calm Lottie’s nerves.

  “Do not fret,” Iris said once Lottie drank the medicine and was in her nightdress, all tucked into her bed. “Goodnight, dearest. I will check on Rose and Aunt Abigail.”

  “Goodnight, Iris. Thank you.”

  Lottie wasn’t sure what was in the unpleasant tasting liquid she’d imbibed, but very soon she fell asleep.

  * * * * *

  Peake made his way to Lord Halford’s residence the next day. The man was an earl, above him in rank. To his luck, the gentleman was at home and agreed to see him.

  “Will this take long?” the earl asked once Peake was presented to him in his drawing room. “I am on my way out.”

  Lord Halford hadn’t asked him to take a seat. He wondered if the man was on his way to seek Lottie out at home.

  “I won’t keep you. I came to tell you to cease your attentions toward Lady Lottie.”

  “I beg your pardon?” the earl sat forward from his formerly indolent pose on a stuffed chair. “What business is it of yours?”

  He replied tightly, “You know I am a friend of the family.”

  Lord Halford raised a brow. “And?”

  To wipe the bored expression from the earl’s face, he blurted, “I am courting Lady Lottie.”

  “Are you really?” Lord Halford stared at him for a moment. “The lady made no mention of it.”

  “Perhaps she was upset by your unwillingness to release her hand.” He watched the other man to see if he had indeed seen what he thought he had at the card party.

  A flush settled over Lord Halford’s face. He cleared his throat. “It was a misunderstanding. I do beg the lady’s pardon.”

  “A misunderstanding I don’t believe her brother knows about. I will relay your sentiments to my intended,” he replied gravely. “See that no other transgressions occur where the lady is concerned.”

  H
e thought he might have overplayed his hand. Evidently not as the earl nodded and said, “My apologies.”

  Peake bowed and took his leave. Only when he was in a hackney on his way to see Ambrose did he realize what he’d done. The truth was he didn’t regret it at all. It was the least he could do to keep the boorish earl from pestering Lottie.

  It was well known the man was looking for a young woman to marry and take care of his young daughter. The thought of Lottie marrying the gentleman didn’t sit right with him.

  And who should she marry? Lottie would be a good companion to his mother. She was excellent in many womanly pursuits, namely gardening and needlework. Over time, he had come to understand her. Sometimes her exuberance was a defense as his own dour moods were his shield.

  He’d never wanted to protect a woman before. To cherish her. Last evening he could have done violence to Halford for touching Lottie in such a manner. For causing her distress.

  He arrived at the Bedford Square townhouse. A footman informed him Ambrose was in the library.

  “Good afternoon!” Ambrose stood up from his chair. “I was just about to get some fresh air. Please join me.”

  He followed his friend out of the room and down a corridor to where the single door led to the small terrace overlooking the back garden.

  “How are you feeling today?” Peake asked his friend.

  “My headaches have quite diminished. When I feel one coming on, I find exercise is a great help.” Ambrose laughed self-consciously. “You would think I was a doctor with how careful I am about my health.”

  The sound of insects buzzing in the air was accompanied by the whistling of someone in the mews behind the garden. Ambrose stood at one end of the terrace, breathing deeply of the air. He looked to have more color than last he saw him.

  “Lottie and Iris were aware how sick you were,” he replied. “We all were. I would have only given you a few more days at Marcourt before I checked on you when your sisters suggested it.”

  Ambrose turned his attention from the greenery before him to the friend beside him. “Let’s walk. I can tell you truthfully that I feel much recovered.”