by Ella Quinn
His housekeeper’s lips suddenly pinched together as if she’d eaten a particularly sour lemon. “It wouldn’t be proper. You’re here now, and no respectable lady would come to a bachelor’s house.”
Hell and damnation. Why hadn’t he thought of that? “You’re correct, of course. I shall have to go to her.” Then a thought popped into his head. “How would she know I’ve returned?”
“For goodness’ sake, my lord.” The housekeeper made him feel like he was a particularly slow thinker. “They only live two houses down the street. By now everyone on the square knows you’re back.”
At first her words stunned him; then he realized that, although he’d arrived late last evening, he’d been in his traveling coach with his servants. Those of his servants who had readied his bedchamber and carried up his trunks would have told the rest of the servants by this morning. There was no reason to keep the news quiet. In fact, exactly the opposite was the case. And, of course, his housekeeper was correct. No respectable lady would enter a bachelor’s residence.
He would have to make an appearance at Huntingdon House and thank her for her help. “Of course, you are correct.”
She nodded in agreement. “If you don’t mind, my lord, I’ll go back to work.”
“As you wish. I must call on Lady Dorie.”
“She’s not home. A footman came by to say she is out for the rest of the day, but that she was going shopping tomorrow and asked if the girls or Miss Rivers needed anything.” Mrs. Wooton picked up the tea tray. “I’ll miss her coming around. A great help she was.”
It occurred to him he now had another problem. Alex knew absolutely nothing about running a household, or an estate, or raising his sisters. Part of the difficulty could be dealt with by hiring another steward. But if he didn’t know how to manage an estate, he wouldn’t know if the man was doing a good job. He would, essentially, be putting the lives and livelihoods of his tenants in jeopardy if the steward had poor management skills. Therefore, it behooved Alex to learn about governing his holdings. The question was where to start? He blew out a breath. The least his mother could have done was fall in love with someone else’s steward.
And what was he going to do about his sisters? Penelope would be out in two years. As a bachelor, he couldn’t sponsor her. He’d have to find an established lady to do that. That lady would also have to act as hostess for any entertainment he gave, such as a ball for his sisters. He’d have to cast around for any widowed ladies in his family who could assist him, but first he’d visit Judith. New baby or not, it was her duty to help him.
CHAPTER TWO
Alex wandered into the hall where he found a footman. “I’m going to Lady Knutsford’s house.”
“Yes, my lord.” The servant bowed but failed to ask when he’d be back.
His father had always wished to know when he would return. It was strange not to be asked.
“I’ll be home before dinner.” He would have said tea, but he didn’t even know what his sisters did for tea. He might also require the additional time to convince Judith to assist him.
“I shall ensure Cook knows, my lord.”
After donning his hat and gloves, Alex took his cane and proceeded out of Grosvenor Square toward Hanover Square and plied the knocker of Knutsford House. It wasn’t until several seconds later that the door was opened by a harried-looking butler he hadn’t seen before. “Good day, sir.”
“I am Exeter.” If Alex started using the name, he might get used to it more quickly. “Is my sister at home?”
The man glanced over his shoulder, a pained expression on his face. “Please enter, my lord. Her ladyship has been expecting you to call.” A crash and the tinkling of glass shattering sounded from somewhere above. “The drawing room is safe.”
Several high-pitched screams sounded next.
“I’ve got him!” someone with a low male voice yelled.
He’d walked into Bedlam. He knew he shouldn’t but could not resist. “Do you mind if I ask what is going on?”
“The monkey escaped. Again.” The butler’s groan relayed the clear message that this was a too common occurrence. He opened a door. “I shall have tea brought directly unless you would prefer something else.”
“Tea is fine.” Although, he’d be floating in it before the day was done.
Several minutes later, Judith entered the room, her very fetching lace cap askew. “Alex!” An instant later he was smothered in her embrace. “How good to see you!”
“I came to ask for help.” Although, from what little he’d seen, Judith needed assistance as well.
“There he goes again!” someone shouted from upstairs.
“Mama, he’s after Mr. Frig,” a childish voice shrieked.
“Who is Mr. Frig?” The words popped out before Alex had given them any thought.
“Mr. Frigate, the parrot.” She winced. “I am very sorry I cannot visit with you longer. As you can see we are at sixes and sevens. I know you have been left in a pickle. The best advice I can give you is to marry. Soon.”
“Marry whom? I don’t even know any of the ladies.” Good God! He hadn’t even been back for a full day!
“I’ll try to find the time to give it some thought.” A loud squawk echoed through the house, and she gave him a harried look. “It was lovely seeing you. I must go.”
Judith dashed out of the room as the tea tray arrived.
Marry! He didn’t want to get leg-shackled yet, but he might not have much of a choice. He had to have someone who could help him with his sisters and his household. Staring at the tea tray, he decided he’d rather have something stronger. He’d go to one of his clubs. Perhaps he’d find his friends, who would have better suggestions than to get married.
Leaving the tea untouched, he collected his hat and cane and made his way to St. James Street.
As luck would have it, when he arrived at Boodle’s, Gavin Turley, now Viscount Turley, and Fredrick, Lord Littleton, were drinking coffee. Both men rose when they saw him.
“Endicott”—Turley frowned—“Exeter, welcome home.” Turley slapped Alex’s back. “Sorry to hear about your father.”
“Thank you. I wish I’d been here when he died. I miss him.” For many reasons other than that he had loved the man.
Littleton pulled out a chair for Alex. “When did you get back?”
“Yesterday evening.” A waiter brought a cup of coffee. “I have discovered I have a bit of a problem.” His friends nodded for him to continue. It was embarrassing, but he’d never get the help he required until he admitted to his lack of knowledge. “I never actually learned to run the estate. My father always thought there would be time to teach me.”
Turley blew out a breath. “That is bad luck.”
“I thought to hire an estate steward.” Alex wasn’t going to tell even his friends that his mother had run off, at least not right away. Come to think of it, who, outside of the family, knew? The fewer the better. “The last one left after my father died.”
“I could not advise you to hire another steward until you know the job yourself,” Littleton said. “You won’t know if he’s doing well by you and your tenants.”
“You make a good point.” Exactly what Alex had decided. But what the hell was he going to do now?
“You need to find someone to teach you,” Turley suggested. “But what about your sisters? After my mother died, my sister felt lost. You will have to do something for them.”
“I had hoped one of my married sisters could help, but one is in Paris, and the other has just had a baby.” Not to mention Judith was having enough trouble with her household as it was.
Littleton took a sip of coffee, then shook his head. “There is nothing for it. You’ll have to find a wife.”
Damn and blast! Why did it always come back to marriage? “I don’t know any ladies.”
“No problem there.” Littleton grinned. “We know several, and you’ll receive cards for other entertainments soon enough.”
Well, that was something at least. Perhaps Alex would find a lady he could actually wish to wed. Someone capable who didn’t bother him over much.
* * * *
Lady Dorie Calthorp scanned the list of items she had received from Miss Rivers, consisting of various books and maps, and decided to add ribbons to it. As far as Dorie had been able to make out neither Penelope nor Phillida had had much joy lately. Mayhap some ribbons would help.
“My lady, the coach is waiting, and Miss Stern has arrived,” Curran, her maid, said.
“Thank you.” Dorie tucked the list in her reticule and made her way to the hall.
Henrietta Stern was residing with her sister, the Marchioness of Merton—Dotty to her friends and family—for the Season. Merton House was across the Grosvenor Square from Huntingdon House, enabling them to see quite a bit of each other. Since the Season had begun, Henrietta and Dorie had become fast friends along with Lady Augusta Vivers, Lady Adeline Wivenly, and Miss Georgiana Featherton.
“Are the others going with us?” Henrietta asked as they strolled out the door to the waiting town coach. Her footman and Dorie’s footmen helped them into the carriage before taking their places on the back of the coach.
Dorie smoothed her skirts. “Augusta is fetching Georgie and Adeline. They are meeting us at Hatchards.”
“That makes sense. The Worthington town coach is larger.” Augusta’s family was also much bigger than Henrietta’s or Dorie’s. When Augusta’s brother, the Earl of Worthington, had married Lady Grace Carpenter, they had started out with eleven brothers and sisters ranging in age from five to eighteen. The eldest two sisters had married two years ago, but there were still nine brothers and sisters, and Lady Worthington had two babies. “Have you heard that Lord Exeter arrived day before last?”
“No.” And, as far as Dorie was concerned, it was not good news. During the past few weeks, she had grown used to considering the Exeter household hers to manage. “Where did you hear that?”
“Where else”—Henrietta grinned—“from my maid. She is better than any newssheet.”
“My mama does not like the servants to gossip.” Which was a pity as they always knew what was going on before anyone else did.
“My sister has not expressed an opinion on the subject. Thank the Lord.” She added the last part under her breath. “I wonder what the new Lord Exeter is like.”
Dorie, too, wished she knew. “I could ask my brother Huntley if he knows him, but I believe he is older than Exeter.”
“Merton might know him,” Henrietta mused. “He will most likely be looking to wed. It seems that many of the gentlemen returning from their Grand Tours wish to marry.”
“That is just like a man. He has traveled and probably has no thought that a lady might like to do the same.” Not that Dorie truly wished to spend months or years on a journey. Although she would like to visit Paris. But that was not the point; like all gentlemen he had had his fun, and now it was time to wed. And in Exeter’s case someone must look after his sisters and the household. Even though Dorie had benefited from Lady Exeter’s sudden marriage by being able to put what she had learned into practice, it had not been well done of her. The matter, if not handled properly, would reflect badly on the entire family. “I doubt he will have any difficulty finding a bride. After all, he is a wealthy peer.”
“A wealthy peer with two younger sisters,” Henrietta pointed out. “One of whom must be fired off in two years, and a scandalous mother.”
“Both his older sisters are respectable.” At least, Dorie had not heard anything against them, even if Lady Knutsford’s husband was slightly eccentric. Come to think of it, her household was a bit chaotic. “As long as nothing else occurs, by the time Penelope is out, the scandal will be, if not forgotten, at least not very important.”
“Does he have anyone who could help him with the girls until he marries?” her friend asked.
Dorie searched her mind for information concerning his lordship’s family. It wasn’t a great deal. “Not that I can recall. I remember Mama mentioning that both sides of his family were famous for marrying well. Perhaps if one searched back one could find a maiden aunt or some such thing.”
Henrietta shrugged. “In that case, it is marriage for him as soon as he can arrange it.” Dorie gazed upward, and Henrietta narrowed her eyes. “What does that look mean? You know how limited his options are. How many ladies do you know who would willingly take on two girls of that age?”
“They are very sweet,” Dorie said, finding the need to defend them. “And did you not just say he will not have any problems finding a wife?”
“That”—Henrietta raised a finger—“was before I remembered his sisters and mother.” She gave Dorie a sly look. “You could marry him. You like his sisters, and you know the household.”
This time she almost rolled her eyes. “You have gone mad. When I wed it will be for love and no other reason.” And this time, she would make certain the gentleman with whom she fell in love returned her regard. Lord Fotheringale had caught her attention. He was nice and not too handsome. She had learned her lesson last year about handsome men. She had not asked him about his political leanings, but she would. Still, there were other gentlemen as well. She would have to make a decision soon. “You marry him.”
“No, thank you.” Her friend shook her head so emphatically she thought her bonnet would come askew. “I do not wish to take on two girls, one of whom is only two years younger than I am. What we can do is ensure that everyone knows he is in Town so that he will begin receiving cards for the entertainments.”
Leave it to Henrietta to say something—no, do something—like that. “For a gentleman you do not know, you are being very busy on his behalf.”
“It is no trouble at all.” She lifted one shoulder. “I shall merely relay the news to the rest of our group when we are outside of Hatchards. It will soon be all over Town.”
“Harrumph.” Why they must interfere at all was beyond Dorie’s comprehension. He was not a charity case after all.
“Someone must take the matter in hand,” Henrietta said in a practical tone. “If you are not going to do it, then I shall.”
The coach came to a halt, and the door opened. Dorie descended to find their other friends already next to Hatchards.
Henrietta went straight over and, in a voice loud enough for several matrons standing nearby to hear, but not so loud as to be vulgar, announced, “Lord Exeter arrived in Town two days ago.”
The older ladies glanced at each other, whispered something, then bustled off.
“Now you’ve done it,” Dorie muttered. “That was Lady Jersey. And it was yesterday. The man will not have a moment’s peace.”
“I know.” Henrietta smiled smugly. She glanced at Georgie and Adeline. “Where is Augusta?”
“She is already inside inquiring about a book she ordered,” Georgie said. “Now that you have done your bit for the ladies making their come outs, I wish to see if the book for which I have been waiting has arrived.”
“Does anyone know what Lord Exeter looks like?” Adeline asked.
Dorie shook her head. “I have no idea at all.”
“We shall all know soon.” Her eyes shifted briefly to the woman who had just walked out of the bookshop. “That was Lady Brownly. Her musical evening is tomorrow evening. I would wager my new pearls that she will send an invitation to him.”
“And Lady Bellamny,” Henrietta said. “She will ensure cards are sent to him as well.”
Lady Bellamny? How could Dorie have been so obtuse as not to have seen her ladyship? “Good heavens. I hope I did not cut her.”
“Your back was to her the whole time. Is it the news about Exeter that has you so distracted?” Adeline link
ed her arm with Dorie’s and started into the shop. “I know you were having a great deal of fun actually being able to manage a household.”
“I was, but I always knew it would be a temporary situation.” In fact, she had grown too content, and wished his lordship had not returned. “Indeed, I did not think it would go on this long.”
“Let us see if there are any new novels.” Adeline’s too cheerful tone grated on Dorie’s nerves.
Approaching the counter, she gave the governess’s order to the clerk to be delivered to Exeter House. Then she and Adeline went to the back of the store where the novels were located. “I shall find something else to occupy my time.”
“Of course you will,” she said, still using a happy voice. “Now, let’s see what we can find.” A few moments later, she held up a book. “This looks promising. It’s called The Bandit’s Bride.”
“I have not had a chance to read Miss Austen’s book Northanger Abbey. I believe I shall buy that one.”
They spent a delightful hour in Hatchards before going to Harding, Howell & Co. where Dorie found ribbons for the Endicott girls and stockings for herself. Augusta and Georgie found lengths of blond lace, and Henrietta purchased a fan.
“I almost wish we had not asked to have our carriages meet us at Pantheon Bazaar,” Adeline said. “I am feeling rather peckish.”
The bazaar was a mile away. The distance seemed longer in Town than in the country where even three miles was not much of a distance to walk.
“It is a shame we do not have restaurants where ladies can go for tea as they do in Paris,” Augusta said.
“I’m sure we’ll pass by an apple cart on the way.” Henrietta linked her arm with Dorie’s.
Come to think of it, she was hungry as well, but one could find so many things at Pantheon Bazaar for much less than in other stores that it was worth visiting.
Almost an hour later, they stood outside the bazaar. “Shall I see you at Mrs. Brownly’s house for her musical evening?”
“I would not miss it.” Georgie beamed. “Ever since my sister-in-law told me about Mrs. Joséphine Fodor I have wanted to hear her sing.”
