by Ella Quinn
“I am glad to have seen them, even if they are not living. Although, if they were alive and had been here for many years, they most likely would be dead by now.” Her tone was wistful, and if he could have brought the beasts back to life, he would have. “Shall we find the Rosetta Stone? I am told it is quite impressive.”
She had let go of him to walk around the front of the animals, but now returned her hand to the crook of his arm. He’d not known he had felt the loss so keenly until then.
Gerald tried to shrug off the way his senses seemed to notice everything about Lady Lucinda, including the light scent of lemons and lavender that wafted through the air when she moved.
Nothing seemed to bore her. She inspected everything she saw as thoroughly as she had his cattle and the giraffes.
Two hours later, they met the rest of their party in the main hall.
“Have you been waiting long?” Lady Lucinda looked abashed.
Miss Marlow giggled. “Not that long.”
Her aunt chuckled. “Well, not long enough to have sent someone to look for you.” Lady St. Claire glanced from Lady Lucinda to Gerald. “I take it you found much to interest you.”
“We did.” She turned to her friend. “Did you see the giraffes?”
Miss Marlow and Quorndon gave identical shudders as she said, “And the other beast. They all looked fearsome. I am glad they were not alive.”
“Truly?” Lady Lucinda, a wicked mirth in her eyes, said, “I told Lord Elliott I would have loved to see them alive.”
Miss Marlow edged closer to Quorndon, who appeared pleased that she had.
“If we are all ready to depart,”—Lady St. Claire motioned to the door—“I propose we retire to my house and have a light luncheon.”
To Gerald’s surprise, they all fit easily into the landau. He, Quorndon, and Mrs. Smithson took the back-facing seat while Miss Marlow, her aunt, and Lady Lucinda took the one facing toward the front. Naturally, the conversation revolved around what they had seen.
Lady Lucinda had been struck by the importance of the Rosetta Stone, but Miss Marlow and Quorndon had not seen its magnificence. They all agreed that the ceiling paintings above the staircase were beautiful and exquisitely done. Gerald and Lady Lucinda differed with Miss Marlow and Quorndon as to the Roman antiquities; The other couple had found the landscape paintings more to their taste.
As Gerald escorted Lady Lucinda into St. Claire House on South Audley Street, she whispered, “I think today has been a resounding success.”
“I thought you might say that.” She wrinkled her nose at him, and he couldn’t help but to respond to the grin. “I agree. Quorndon and Miss Marlow seem to have much in common.”
If the outing was to be declared a success based solely upon Lady Lucinda’s matching making, then yes. Yet for Gerald, the day had been one of continuing consternation. The more he came to know Lady Lucinda, the more he liked her. Yet given the way her mother had reacted to him, that would only cause her problems. He was not even certain what Rothwell would say. From now on, he must keep his distance and intensify his search for a wife.
“I wonder how long it will be before he proposes,” she mused.
Gerald shook his head. “He only met her last night. Aside from that, the expectation is that he will wed you.”
“Oh, pooh.” She fluttered her fingers. “I shall gladly tell him and Miss Marlow to follow their hearts. Aside from that, she need never know our mothers tried to arrange a marriage. I do not think he will tell her.”
“You have a point.” Lady Lucinda was almost as frightening as the new Duchess of Rothwell. “I’d almost forgotten that you have your mind set on another gentleman.” Another reason it did him no good at all to be attracted to Lady Lucinda.
She slid him the same slightly devious look she had that morning. But what the devil did it mean? “Indeed, I do. Come, I am a bit peckish.” They entered the hall behind the others. “Will you be at Almack’s this week?”
Did her question have something to do with the look she’d given him? “As a matter of fact, I shall.”
“Wonderful!” Lady Lucinda faced him, appearing perfectly delighted. “Do you think you can arrange for me to be approved to waltz? I am told that a gentleman must be recommended by one of the Patronesses as a suitable dance partner.”
Apparently, she did not want Quorndon or her mother to know who her mystery gentleman was. But should Gerald perform the service? He’d better speak to Rothwell first. “I shall try.”
“Thank you.” She tightened her hand on his arm. “I knew I could depend upon you.”
Good God! What have I got myself into?
He should tell her brother, but that would be a betrayal of the worst sort, and she would never trust him again. And if he continued to be a friend to her, he might be able to put a stop to any plans she had to marry anyone unsuitable. Still, she’d said her gentleman was as eligible as he. Ergo, he was making a mountain out of a molehill and would look like an idiot if he started running off about mystery men.
He and Lucinda entered the room only to find the elder ladies engaged in a comfortable coze, and Quorndon and Miss Marlow ensconced in one of the two window seats, their heads together.
Lady St. Claire raised her head. “Luncheon will be served shortly. I have ordered tea while we wait.”
“Thank you, my lady,” he and Lucinda answered at the same time.
Drat, he should not think of her by her first name. Perhaps if he only did so in his head it would be all right. As long as he didn’t make a blunder and say it to her, or in public. Yes, that would be fine.
“Let us sit in the other window seat. They are so comfortable.” She led the way, and Gerald could do nothing but follow. It would have been rude to interrupt Lady St. Claire, and he was not about to interfere with Lucinda’s plans for Quorndon and Miss Marlow.
Lucinda patted the place next to her on the wide seat, but Gerald grabbed a nearby chair. “This will be more comfortable for me. I like to look at the person with whom I am conversing.”
She smiled brightly. “Do you enjoy being in Town, or would you rather be in the country?”
“I do not think I would choose one over the other. I enjoy the Lords.” He grimaced. “Most of the time. I would ask you the same question, but you have not been in Town long enough to know.”
Her plump, rosy lips formed a moue. “Very true. I shall answer that question at the end of the Season.”
If she hadn’t married and left Town by then. Gerald again had the feeling that he should do whatever he could to discover which gentleman had captured her interest. After all, mere rank did not make a man eligible.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Lucinda walked through the door of Rothwell House. “Is the duchess at home?”
“Yes, my lady.” Fredricks bowed. “She is in her parlor.”
“And my brother?” She almost crossed her fingers, hoping he was gone.
“Out, my lady.” Perfect. She would be able to have a conversation without Rothwell’s interference.
“Thank you, Fredricks.” She went to her room, giving her spencer, hat, gloves, and reticule to her maid.
“Her grace, your mother asked where you were,” Greene said. “I told her with Lord Quorndon and Miss Marlow, just like you asked me to, my lady.”
“Thank you. I would not have wanted her to worry.” It wouldn’t do to tell anyone, other than Louisa, that Lord Elliott had accompanied them.
“Yes, my lady.” Greene removed Lucinda’s gown and shook it out, then slipped a day dress over her head, fastened the gown, and draped a shawl over her shoulders.
“I will be with my sister-in-law.”
“Yes, my lady.” Her maid turned toward the dressing room.
A few moments later, Lucinda scratched on Louisa’s door. “It is Lucinda.”
�
��Come, but do not speak. I must finish this column.”
She entered the parlor to find her sister-in-law’s head bent over a journal. Sinking into a wide, cane-backed chair, she waited, taking the time to look at the new wall coverings and curtains in pale yellows and creams. The new chair fabrics were various patterns consisting of flowers, vines, and birds.
After several moments, Louisa pushed the ledger aside and looked at Lucinda. “Thank you for being patient. Now, what can I do for you?”
Lucinda clasped her hands together to keep from fidgeting with her gown. “I would like to know what you can tell me about Lord Elliott.”
“Earl Elliott?” Lucinda nodded. Her sister-in-law picked up a pencil and tapped it on her blotter.
“Rothwell considers him a good enough friend to trust him with you. That alone tells me that he has no serious vices.”
Shrugging, Lucinda shook her head.
“He does not engage in excessive gambling, or erratic behavior. He is a good dancer. I do not recall that he courted anyone last year.”
That was surprising. “But he must wish to wed.”
She caught herself leaning forward in the chair and resumed her previous position. She had done exactly what she had not wanted to do and given away the depth of her interest.
“I imagine he will.” Louisa tapped her pencil again, then pulled a sheet of paper toward her. “I understand that you do not want Quorndon. Frankly, although you must not say a word to your mother, I cannot see the two of you together. Yet the Season has just begun. Do you not wish to meet more gentlemen before you form an attachment?”
Lucinda hid her grimace. “I suppose I should tell you that I have seen Lord Elliott in the Park during my morning rides, and he joined my outing with Lord Quorndon, Miss Marlow, her aunt, and cousin at Montague House.” When Louisa’s lips began to flatten, Lucinda rushed on. “They were not clandestine meetings. Indeed, as far as he was concerned, the meetings in the Park were accidental, and I needed him to be at the museum so that Lord Quorndon and Miss Marlow could come to know each other. That is all.” Louisa raised her brows. How was it that she seemed so much more mature than Lucinda? “I asked him to help me be approved to waltz. Rothwell said he planned to ask Lord Elliott, or another of his friends.”
“That is true,” her sister-in-law commented as she tapped her pencil again.
This was not going well. “We have so much in common, and he does not treat me as if I do not have a brain.” Lucinda gave up not fidgeting and wrapped her necklace around one finger. “But I think he only considers me as his friend’s sister.”
“Let us assume that he does begin to court you.” Louisa began to write. “Your mother is not going to like it at all.”
“No. Although, if Lord Quorndon proposes to Miss Marlow, it might be easier to talk her round.”
“You have a point.” Louisa drew her brows together. “She does want you to marry. If only so that she may return to the country.”
If Lucinda knew her brother better she would approach him, but she did not. Or rather she knew him as a big brother who had played with her and fixed her toys when she was little and he was home from school. He probably still thought of her as a child. “Will you talk to Rothwell?”
“I must,” her sister-in-law said firmly. “We do not keep secrets. That will also give me the opportunity to discover how he feels about a possible match. I do think you would benefit from meeting other gentlemen.”
“Did you?” Lucinda knew that it was not until late in the Season that Rothwell had met his wife.
Louisa sat for a few long moments in silence before answering, “Truthfully, I cannot say that I did. I would have had the same reaction to him if I had met him the first day of the Season.” She set aside her pencil and smiled. “I do like your idea about finding a match for Quorndon.”
“I thought you might.” Lucinda grinned. “When you see them together you will understand why I thought they would be perfect for each other. And neither of them likes to ride horses.”
“Whereas you and Elliott do.” Her sister-in-law pulled a face. “Horses are not everything, you know.”
“No, they are not.” She kept her excitement to herself. Louisa was coming around, and she could convince Rothwell. “Yet if one person does like them and the other person does not, it could become a large problem.”
“They will have to have more in common than that,” she prodded.
Really, people need to have more faith in me. “I believe they do have a great deal in common. At the museum they agreed on which sites they liked best. In any event, she has a great deal more in common with Lord Quorndon than I will ever have, which is to say absolutely nothing at all.”
Louisa’s lips pressed together as one side of her mouth quirked up. “That was fairly obvious to me.”
“Mama will have to come around.” Lucinda’s tone sounded more convinced than she felt.
“Promise me one thing.” Louisa waited for Lucinda to nod. “You will not elope. It would harm both your reputations.”
She stared at her sister-in-law, shocked that she would think Lucinda would be so reckless. Still, considering her mother, it was a fair request. “I would never do anything so scandalous.”
“Thank you.” Louisa rose from her chair. “I’m going to the nursery. I shall see you at tea.”
Not more than two minutes after she left the room, a cry sounded from the nursery above.
“I wish I knew how she did that.” Then again, with luck, by this time next year Lucinda might find out for herself. What would it be like to have a child with Elliott’s curls and blue eyes?
Gerald handed his hat and cane to his butler. “Her ladyship is expecting me. Is she in the back parlor or the drawing room?”
“The back parlor, my lord, but—” The butler quickly shoved his hat and cane into a nearby footman’s hands.
“Collins.” Gerald used his I-am-the-master tone. “You will not announce me in my own house.”
“Yes, my lord. May I say that we shall be happy to see you in residence?”
“Soon, Collins. Soon. With any luck at all, I shall wed this Season.” At least, that was the plan.
His butler bowed. “Her ladyship will be pleased as well.”
“So she says.” He glanced around the hall and into the parlor reserved for people who would not be asked to drink tea. That room was not used very often. Still, everything had his mother’s mark. The blue floral print fabrics she liked were particularly abhorrent. “She won’t like leaving this house.”
“As you say, my lord.”
Gerald could not tell whether his butler agreed or not. But the truth was he would most likely have a devil of a time getting his mother out of it. It would behoove him to start looking for a town house for her before he married. He’d have to have Rouse look into suitable properties for her.
The door to the back parlor was partially open, giving him a view of his mother with her companion, Cousin Anne.
He knocked lightly before entering. “Good afternoon, Mother, Cousin Anne.”
“Ah, Elliott. Here you are. Anne and I were just discussing the importance of ensuring that the family of your future bride has no history of mental disorders.”
“Yes, indeed.” Anne nodded vigorously, picking up the cue. “One would not wish to be concerned that one’s spouse or children would suffer any future disabilities.”
What the devil were they getting at? Gerald bowed before strolling into the room. “You mean such as the one from which our king suffers?”
His mother frowned. “Well, naturally, but one cannot wish the children of our king to be unmarriageable. The line must continue.”
“Of course.” He gestured toward the chair at the end of the table between two sofas. “May I sit?”
“Oh, yes.” Mother smiled. “We were so involved i
n our conversation I quite forgot you were standing.”
He lowered himself into the chair, still wondering where this discussion was going and what it had to do with him. He had not heard that any of the young ladies making their come out this Season had madness in their family lines.
Before his mother could continue, Collins and one of the footmen entered, carrying two trays: one with the tea, and the other bearing biscuits, cake, and the sandwiches Mother knew Gerald liked.
She handed him a cup of tea and a plate of sandwiches and seed cake. “As we were saying, you must be careful which lady you choose to wed.”
He picked up a lemon biscuit and took a bite, waiting for her to get to the point.
“Even very prominent families can suffer from mad family members,” Anne added, shooting a look at his mother. They were definitely up to something.
His mother nodded. “Very true. For example, poor Lady Lucinda’s father—”
“Suffered from dementia.” He cut her off. This is what the look she’d given him in the Park was about. “Which is very common in older people.” He took a sip of tea. “I seem to remember that your own grandmother forgot who just about everyone was.”
Mother’s face fell, but she recovered quickly. “Indeed she did, but we were able to stop her from the outrageous behavior exhibited by the previous duke.”
“Only because she was an old woman. Had it been my great-grandfather, the solution would not have been as easy.” He drained his cup and set it down. “I am assisting Rothwell in watching after his sister. That is all.”
“It is?” She refilled his cup. “Are you sure?”
“Mother. I will not have this conversation. You will welcome whichever lady I choose to marry.” Her eyes widened for the beat of a heart. Not surprising, considering he rarely took a firm tone with her. “Now, I have something I would like to discuss.”
“Of course, dear. Have some sandwiches.” She offered him another plate.
Ever since he had moved into his own rooms, she’d decided he did not get enough to eat. “Thank you.”
She changed the subject, to the balls and other events taking place over the next several days, until he’d finished off the food. “As I will wed before the Season is out, you should consider where you will live while in Town. If you would like, I can have Rouse assist you in searching for a house.”