I'll Always Love You
Page 13
“What you mean to say”—Boman pulled a face—“is that you haven’t told his lordship that you’re not staying in England.”
“Let’s just say that I have not had time to divulge all my plans.” Boman was right. Phinn would have to tell his brother, the Marquis of Dorchester, about his plans to leave England again. If only Dorchester and his wife could manage to have a son instead of four daughters, they wouldn’t be trying to make Phinn marry. Although, whatever gave them the idea he could do better, he didn’t know.
“His lordship isn’t going to be happy.”
That was putting it mildly. Phinn did not plan on telling his brother he was leaving again until just before he left. “I’ll stay for the Season. Once he sees that I have not found a suitable wife, he’ll be glad to see me go again.”
“What happens if some young lady catches your eye?”
Good lord! Boman too? “Why is everyone suddenly trying to put a leg-shackle on me?”
“I’m just saying, it could happen. You almost got caught by that señorita in Mexico City.”
“Not because I wanted her.” Phinn ran his finger under his cravat. “For that escape, I can only thank your sharp eyes.” If Boman hadn’t seen the lady slip something into Phinn’s drink, he might have been asleep instead of hiding on the window ledge when she’d sneaked into his room. Thank God English ladies were not so devious. “The less said about that, the better.” The last trunk was loaded onto the coach. “Time to go back to Dorchester House. My brother has made an appointment with me to see Weston.” He looked at his worn leather breeches with chagrin. “Apparently, I do not have sufficient clothing to pass myself off as an eligible parti.”
Phinn climbed into the coach, followed by Boman, who settled on the back-facing seat and said, “Have you decided to hire a proper valet?”
The carriage rolled through the narrow streets. “I don’t like the idea of hiring a man only to let him go in a month or two.”
“We’ll take him with us. Europe isn’t the Far East or Mexico. You’ll need someone who knows how to take care of your fancy clothes.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Glancing out the window, he marveled at how societies never changed much. There was always the poor living in squalor and the rich who didn’t seem to care. “You’ll be too busy preparing for the next trip.”
“You keep saying that, and we haven’t even set foot in your brother’s house yet.”
Not that he didn’t love his brother, but Phinn would have been happy to have visited for a week and left again. But that would not have been possible. He had a paper to deliver to the Royal Society, letters to write, travel documents to acquire, and a host of other duties. Unfortunately, other than the paper, he’d have to leave most of it to Boman while Phinn danced, literally, to his sister-in-law’s tune and his family’s scheme to get him married.
“Do you have the charms?” He didn’t know if they’d work, but he’d try anything. After four daughters, his brother was becoming desperate to secure the succession, and Dorchester’s eye had turned to Phinn. It was probably ridiculous of him to trust a Haitian witch’s magic, but anything was worth a try.