The Marquis She's Been Waiting For

by Ella Quinn

  “Dotty told me when she and Merton saw her in The Marriage of Figaro she was so affecting they had to stop the opera for the audience to calm down.”

  “Very true.” Dorie nodded remembering how absolutely beautiful Mrs. Fodor’s voice was. “I was there when that occurred.”

  “No wonder my mother is so excited about this evening.” Adeline handed her packages to a footman. “I shall see you there.”

  Dorie would have to have the ribbons sent over to the Endicott girls. She could no longer visit the house. She wished she had known exactly when Lord Exeter would arrive. Thinking she had more time, she had left tasks undone. Well, there was nothing for it now. Perhaps she should inform him of the current state of his main seat at Longwood.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Dorie and Henrietta parted on the pavement outside of Huntingdon House.

  “I am still hungry. That apple did not satisfy me for long.” Henrietta bussed Dorie’s cheek.

  “I know what you mean.” She returned the gesture. “I shall ask for a cold collation to be brought to my room. I do not know how some people eschew luncheon.”

  “It is easy when they sleep until noon.” Henrietta’s dry tone made it clear what she thought of such behavior. “I shall see you this evening.”

  When Dorie entered the hall, Banwell, her father’s butler, said, “My lady, your mother asks that you join her in the morning room.”

  Her stomach rumbled, but it would have to wait. She handed him the package of ribbons. “Please have these delivered to Exeter House. They are for Ladies Penelope and Phillida.”

  He cleared his throat. “My lady. Lord Exeter is with her ladyship. Perhaps you would like to give them to him.”

  For a moment she couldn’t think of anything to say. Why was he at her house? But of course, he would wish to thank her for her assistance. Or would he instead think she had interfered? Well, she would make it painfully clear to him that his household would not have done nearly as well without her help. Dorie gave herself a shake. She was putting the cart before the horse and blaming him for thoughts he might not even have. Why was she feeling so defensive? It had been Lady Exeter’s request that had been a little unusual. Even stranger was that Mama allowed Dorie to perform the duties. Adeline and Georgie had both said their mothers would not have allowed it, and Mama was at least as strict as the other mothers. Although, Henrietta had not seemed to think it was odd. Then again, her mother was a duke’s daughter and did much as she pleased.

  In any event, it was water under the bridge now. “Thank you. I shall go to her directly.”

  Dorie made her way to the back of the house where the morning room was located. It was a comfortable, airy place with French windows leading onto the terrace, wall coverings with peacocks and flowers, and bright blue curtains. She entered the room and was taken aback to see a gentleman with dark brown hair. If anything, she had imagined him to be fair like his sisters and mother.

  Her mother smiled as the man across from her unfolded himself from the sofa. “Dorie, here you are, my dear. Allow me to make Lord Exeter known to you. He has come by to thank you for the assistance you lent his family.”

  She dropped into a curtsey. Thank heavens for her training; otherwise, she’d be gaping. He was almost as good-looking as Lord Littleton, who was widely considered the most handsome man in Town if not all of England. Lord Exeter’s jacket stretched across his broad shoulders, and it was clear that nothing he wore required padding. His pantaloons molded his muscular legs hiding virtually nothing. His light green eyes, the color of jasper, seemed to smile at her. Dorie gave herself a shake. She refused to be drawn to the man. Someone like Lord Fotheringale was whom she wanted. Not an Adonis. “I’m pleased to meet you, my lord.”

  “As I am to make your acquaintance, my lady.” He moved toward her, and she held out her hand. “I have much to thank you for.” Taking her fingers, he bowed. For some reason, her hand was much too warm. It was most likely her gloves. “My housekeeper and sisters have sung your praises.” He smiled, and her stomach was suddenly filled with butterflies. “I understand you saved them from some sort of Pythagorean diet.”

  “So Miss Rivers threatened.” Dorie did wonder how any lady could be so unskilled in running a household or, indeed, any ladylike accomplishments. “Yet, according to your housekeeper, the lady herself is quite fond of beef and other meats.” Lord Exeter had straightened and her cheeks warmed as she gazed into his pale green eyes. “It was my pleasure to be able to assist.”

  “Come, my dear.” Her mother patted the place next to her. “Have some tea.”

  She dragged her eyes from his lordship to her mother. “I would love a cup.” Once she was settled and drank a few sips of tea, she set her cup down and took the package of ribbons out of her reticule. “Miss Rivers asked me to arrange a book order from Hatchards for your sisters, but I thought some new ribbons would be nice as well. Please give them to the girls for me.”

  His eyes widened in surprise. “Thank you. I am sure they will love them.” He gave her a sheepish look. “It would not have occurred to me that they might need them.”

  “My lord, girls do not need ribbons, but they like them a good deal.” For the first time she wondered how much he knew about what had been going on with his family. Unfortunately, she would have to wait until he mentioned the subject. “I do not know if you have been told, but they will soon require new clothing.”

  “I regret to admit that I know nothing about raising children, especially girls.” Lord Exeter glanced at his empty cup. “I did not even know that they would be completely dependent on me.” His pleasant tone slipped and hardened. “It was only this morning I discovered that my mother had remarried and my sisters were unable to help with Penelope and Phillida.”

  Judith, Dorie could easily forgive, but the behavior of his mother and other sister had not been unforgiveable. Although, he might not know that Marcella had left for France in a fit of pique when their mother remarried and traveled to Scotland. The question was did he need to know? He would not be able to convince his sister to return. “I am sorry to say that, even though Miss Rivers is an admirable lady in many ways, she is not at all domestic.”

  “That is the God’s honest truth,” Mama said in an undertone as she poured his lordship another cup of tea. “We shall be happy to help in any way we can.”

  “Thank you, but I cannot impose upon you forever. I must find a more permanent solution.” Above his cup his searching gaze met Dorie’s and in that look he all but told her he wanted her to continue in the role she had been playing. And the only way that could happen was if they wed.

  Oh, no, no, no, no. I will not be wanted merely to take care of another woman’s children, no matter how sweet they are. Lord Exeter will have to find another lady to marry. Drat. Henrietta was right. I will have to involve myself.

  “That should not be difficult.” She gave him a cool but polite smile. “I am quite sure you will begin receiving invitations to entertainments very soon.” Especially if Lady Jersey and Lady Bellamny had anything to say about it. “I left all the correspondence I had with Longwood including copies of my replies. Please tell me if you have any questions.”

  Alex took the package of ribbons from Lady Dorie. He had certainly not thought of purchasing anything like that for his sisters. It appeared her talents in housewifery were only surpassed by her thoughtfulness…and her beauty. Dark honey-blond curls framed her heart-shaped face, and her hazel eyes sparked with intelligence. It had never occurred to him that someone like Lady Dorie could have been spending time managing his household. If he’d been asked he would have thought the lady to be a plain, unremarkable sort of female. One who had nothing better to do with her time than help a neighbor. That was obviously not the case with Lady Dorie. The spencer she wore hugged her generous breasts, and the light lemon scent mixed with lavender suited her, and had him trying to breat
he in more of it. He was looking forward to seeing her in an evening gown. Alex shifted on his seat and started to count backward. If he wasn’t careful, she and her mother both would be able to see his interest in the lady. For the first time, the recommendations he’d received to find a wife suddenly did not seem so absurd. Alex wondered if she was also knowledgeable about running an estate. That was probably asking too much. Yet many ladies managed estates in their husbands’ absences. She was already extremely accomplished. If she was conversant in estate management, all his problems would be easily solved. He envisioned what her hair would look like down and spread over his pillows invaded his mind. Marriage to her would be no problem at all.

  Still, when he had hinted that he might look for a bride, Lady Dorie’s smile had been no more than polite. Were her affections already engaged? It couldn’t be too difficult to find out. And even if they were, until she was betrothed, he could work at changing her mind. It was a shame she could no longer come to his home—Alex almost groaned. He’d gone mad. He was fully planning how to seduce her into marrying him with his young, innocent sisters in residence.

  “If you do not receive a card for Mrs. Brownly’s musical evening that takes place tomorrow”—Lady Huntingdon caught his attention, dragging his thoughts back to the conversation—“you may accompany us, if you wish.” She offered him a plate of biscuits. “Mrs. Joséphine Fodor is performing.”

  “Thank you.” Keeping his plate on his lap, he took two of what looked to be lemon biscuits. During his travels, he had heard of the famous Mrs. Fodor and her magnificent voice. “That should prove to be delightful. I would be honored.” Even if he did receive a card, he would join them. What better way to discover more about Lady Dorie and begin his pursual of her?

  “Excellent.” Alex was pleased to see that her ladyship’s smile was warmer than Lady Dorie’s. Parents always had a great deal of influence over young ladies. “We shall expect you at eight.”

  This was obviously the end of his visit. He rose and bowed. “It was a pleasure to meet you, my ladies.”

  Lady Huntingdon pulled the bell-pull, and the butler appeared. “As it was for us, my lord. Welcome home. I hope you will not find England too flat after your travels.”

  “Thus far, it has been anything but boring.” Alex wished it had been more unexciting. Except for meeting Lady Dorie.

  “You sisters have been used to spending time with my daughter, Ophelia, who is Phillida’s age,” Lady Huntingdon said. “I hope they will continue to do so.”

  “Thank you.” That was something else he hadn’t known. “I think that is an excellent idea. Thank you again for your kindness.”

  Her ladyship inclined her head. “I shall send another invitation soon.”

  The butler escorted Alex to the hall and gave him his hat. He strolled out the door to the pavement, pulling out his pocket watch as he turned toward his house. As always, he had to concentrate on the numbers for a second before he could make out that it was close to two o’clock. There was no point in going to his club, but did he really want to go home?

  As if his butler had been watching for him, the door opened as he approached his house. “My lord. Mr. Sawyer, the family solicitor, has asked that he be allowed to attend you.”

  Ah, yes. Alex had not been present for the reading of the will, and there would be documents to sign. Once again, he gave over his hat and cane. “Does he have a time in mind?”

  “He is available this afternoon if that is convenient. Shall I send a message to him? I am sure he can be here shortly.”

  “Yes, please.” Alex had nothing else planned, and he should get this over with as soon as possible. He was about to ask if he had received any correspondence when he spied cards stacked neatly on a silver salver. “When did these arrive?”

  “Within the past two hours.” Coyne reached for the salver. “Shall I take them into the study?”

  “If you wouldn’t mind.” He suddenly felt as if he’d been awake for days instead of just a few hours. “I’d also appreciate something to eat”—he didn’t think he could drink another cup of tea, but it wouldn’t do to start drinking spirits or wine—“and coffee if we have it.” The coffee on the Continent had been excellent.

  “As you wish, my lord.” Coyne left, closing the door behind him.

  Once again Alex found himself staring at his father’s desk. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. He was supposed to have returned home to his father, mother, and sisters. Bit by bit, he was to have begun taking responsibility for the estates. His father had always resented being made to carry the weight of the marquisate from a young age, and wanted Alex to have time to enjoy himself before bearing the burden of his familial obligations. Yet it hadn’t worked out that way. Here he was not any more ready to govern the marquisate than his father had been. In fact, less so. Father had had trustees and others to help him and train him. Alex had …no one. An image of Lady Dorie entered his mind. Perhaps he would have someone.

  He glanced at the door set into the wall next to the fireplace before opening it. The smaller room was as he remembered it. The plaster walls were painted green. A moderately sized old oak desk stood to one side of a long window. Ledgers were placed neatly side by side on a bookshelf. An older Aubusson carpet anchored the floor, and one chair was placed in front of the desk. A similar room was on the other side of his study, but this was the one he remembered most. The secretary his father had had when Alex was a child kept a jar of hard candies on his desk and always gave him one when he visited.

  “My lord?” Coyne called.

  “I am in here.” Alex strode to the study. It would be a while before he thought of it as his. “What happened to the secretary?”

  “Just before his lordship fell ill Mr. Rosen found a position more to his liking.”

  At least he hadn’t run off with anyone. “I must replace him as soon as possible.”

  Coyne bowed. “My lord, I do not believe that is a position I will be able to fill from an employment agency.”

  Alex was about to ask why; then it occurred to him that a friend of his father’s had recommended Mr. Rosen. Damn. In addition to everything else, Alex would now have to ask his friends if they had any suggestions. One of his friends who had been married for a few years and, presumably, had a secretary of his own would be the most help. On second thought, any of his friends who were peers would have secretaries. “I’ll take care of it.” The scent of coffee lured Alex to the desk in his study. He had to start thinking of it like that. “Thank you. That will be all.”

  Less than an hour later, he’d consumed the sandwiches, cake, and coffee his cook had sent up, and gone through the cards inviting him to several entertainments, including Mrs. Brownly’s musical evening. He pulled out a few pieces of pressed paper and began crafting his responses. At first he’d planned to accept all of them until he realized that if he attended every event he’d be appearing at up to four entertainments in a single evening. There had to be a better and less exhausting way to rejoin Polite Society. Perhaps he could ask for Lady Dorie’s assistance. In fact, it might behoove him to ask her to go out driving with him during the Grand Strut. The only problem was he didn’t know what he had in the stables for sporting carriages. Although, that wouldn’t be difficult to ascertain. He couldn’t ask her today. Such short notice would be rude. And, after all, he would see her tomorrow evening. It surprised him that he hadn’t thought of visiting the stables before now. Then again, he felt almost as if he were walking in deep sand. Well, that was about to cease. He had to get his life back on course, and quickly.

  Stepping to the door, he pulled it open to find a footman standing in the corridor against the wall. “Tell”—whom? Who cared where he went? Everyone who had cared to know was gone. It was strange how abandoned he felt. “Tell Coyne I have gone to the stable and shall return shortly.”

  “Yes, my lord.” The footman headed
toward the hall, and Alex turned toward the door to the garden.

  Once free of the house, he strode along the paths to the back gate. Many of the bushes were in leaf already and some had blooms. The scent of lilacs along the back wall slowed him as he breathed in the light fragrance. The roses scrambling up the back wall were in leaf and had buds. In another month—he thought—they’d be full of flowers. As Alex had remembered, the gate key was kept in a box mounted onto the stone wall. Taking it out, he unlocked the gate and crossed the alley to the stables. Mawson, the stable master for as long as Alex could remember, stood at the open stable door giving orders to someone inside.

  “Good afternoon.” He grinned as the man swiveled on his heel.

  “My lord, welcome home.” A grin split the weathered face. “I was wondering how long it would take you to make your way out here. What can I do for ye?”

  “Do I have a phaeton or curricle?” He prayed there was something suitable.

  “You have a curricle, and a high-perched phaeton that belonged to her ladyship.” Mawson motioned for Alex to follow him.

  “Excellent.” As was to be expected, the carriages were in excellent condition. The curricle was painted a deep red with gold trim and had black leather seats. “Horses?”

  “You’ve got the dark bays and a pair of grays.”

  He followed the stable master to where the horses were kept. The moment he entered the stable he heard a familiar pawing. “Titan!”

  “Found ’im here when I got in,” said Bardell, Alex’s groom. “Yr mam ’ad ’im brought up.”

  Alex ran his hand down the horse’s neck before grabbing an apple out of a bin and feeding it to the large bay gelding. “I’ve missed you. How would you like to take a ride later this afternoon?” After he spoke with his lawyer. The horse nodded his head. “Very well. Bardell, have him ready at five o’clock.”