by Ella Quinn
“Yes, my lord.”
As Alex strode back to the house he wondered if he would come across Lady Dorie at the Park, and, if so, how she’d respond to him. If there was not another man, had she taken him into dislike or was there another reason for her cool demeanor earlier?
CHAPTER FOUR
Alex settled into his chair at the desk and dashed off notes to Littleton and Turley asking if they’d like to join him at the Park. Between the two of them, they should know who else was in Town. By the time the missives had been sent off, Alex’s solicitor arrived.
He greeted Mr. Sawyer, an older, portly gentleman with silver hair, and motioned him to a seat in front of the desk. “Good day, sir.”
“Good day, my lord.” He placed a large stack of documents on the desk. “Please accept my condolences for your loss.”
Alex hadn’t even begun to deal with his father’s death. “Thank you. Where shall we begin?”
“With the will. If you like, I shall summarize the small bequests and provisions for the older servants who chose to retire.” The lawyer took out a pair of glasses, affixing them to his nose, and sorted out the documents into several stacks. “The estates are in good condition, and you will not suffer from the loss of the staff who decided to be pensioned off…”
An hour later, the clock chimed as Alex signed the last document. He hadn’t even had a chance to open the missives from his friends that Coyne had placed on the desk. Still, Alex now knew more about the estates and other holdings than he had before. The prospect of managing them all well was a little overwhelming.
“I believe that is all.” The lawyer began gathering up the papers.
Except for one pertinent fact. “Mr. Sawyer, it is my understanding that I have a half brother from an affair in which my father engaged.”
The man didn’t bat an eye. “You have four half brothers, my lord.”
“Four?” It took a while for the number to sink in. “Are they all with the same woman?”
“Indeed, my lord.” The man inclined his head.
“Why has no provision been made for them?” That was the one thing a gentleman did do. Support his get.
The lawyer cleaned his glasses again. “They were provided for years ago using funds your father had at hand.”
Be that as it may, it was up to Alex to ensure the children were not in need. “I would appreciate it if you would explain …In detail, if you please.”
Sawyer placed the spectacles back on his nose. “You father had several investments over the years. One was particularly lucrative. He took the funds and placed them in a trust for”—he cleared his throat—“the children and their mother. The amount is sufficient for their education, and for her to live comfortably. The eldest three are at Harrow and the youngest will attend in a year or two, I believe.”
Harrow? That was an odd choice for by-blows. “Do they know who their father is?”
“If the question is did they know their father, then yes, they did.” His lips pressed together as if he was considering what to say next. “If the question is did they know their father was a peer, the answer is no. They believed him to be a wealthy gentleman of the gentry engaged in investments that often took him away from home.” Sawyer cleared his throat again. “The woman believes herself to be a widow.”
If what Sawyer had said was true, somehow Father had committed bigamy. Alex felt as if he’d received a blow from Gentleman Jackson himself. The man he had known as his father would never have behaved so dishonorably. But had he known either of his parents at all? Alex placed his elbows on the arms of his chair and dropped his head into his hands. The scandal, if it ever got out, would eclipse what his mother had done.
He needed a moment to ask the next question that must be asked. “How did that come about?”
“The lady was living in north of England and they traveled to Scotland.” The lawyer gave Alex a long look. “In your father’s opinion and mine, matters have been taken care of, and you will not need to bother with them. Unless something changes, of course.”
“Of course.” At least Alex wasn’t to be settled with the care of his father’s bastards. Although, that in and of itself was not a scandal. He should be happy about the fact. God knows he didn’t need anything else to worry him. Still, he’d be surprised if someday, somehow, this deception did not raise its ugly head. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be until after his sisters had married. “Very well, Mr. Sawyer, thank you for your assistance.”
Using the chair arms, the older man pushed himself up. “My pleasure, my lord. If you are in need of anything, I shall be happy to attend you.”
“Unfortunately, I don’t know if you can help with my two most pressing matters, a steward and a secretary.” And someone to keep the damned accounts. Alex had never been able to add up columns.
Sawyer removed his glasses and placed them in a case. “I would think Lord Huntingdon would be able to assist you. Despite their political differences, he and your father were close friends. He has a large acquaintance and engages the services of two secretaries, several stewards, and an estate manager.”
It certainly wouldn’t hurt to ask his lordship. Perhaps Alex could do that tomorrow evening. “Thank you.” As he picked up the two letters that had been delivered it occurred to him that there was one more thing with which the lawyer might be able to advise. “How long have you represented the Endicotts?”
“My family has had the honoring of representing your family for four generations.”
“Do you happen to know if there is a lady in my family who would be willing to assist me with my younger sisters?” If he had some female relative present, perhaps he wouldn’t feel so concerned about the girls. And they would be able to have small parties of friends visit.
Mr. Sawyer stared out the far window for several long moments before saying, “I would suggest Lady Charles Endicott.”
Who was Lady Charles? His father had no brothers by that name …but his grandfather had. His youngest brother had been named Charles. “My great-aunt Emily?”
“Indeed, my lord. She is now living at the Dower House with your other aunts. Not very happily, I might add.”
When was the last time he’d met his aunt Emily? Ten years ago? Try as he might, he couldn’t even bring up an image of her. Not that it mattered what she looked like. The one thing he did remember was that she had been extremely commonsensical and at least fifteen years younger than his uncle, who had been the youngest of the sons. That would make her near his mother’s age. “Thank you, again.”
“Would you like me to write to her?” Mr. Sawyer had taken out a notebook.
“Thank you, but I think that’s something I had better do myself.” He couldn’t imagine his aunt’s reaction to receiving a letter from a lawyer about a family matter.
“In that case, good day, my lord.” The solicitor bowed and let himself out.
Alex opened the letters, one each from Littleton and Turley. Turley was engaged, but Littleton wrote he would be at Exeter House at five o’clock.
Alex sent a message telling his friend he’d be ready, and turned to the task of writing his aunt. He could well imagine that Aunt Emily was not happy to be living with her sisters-in-law, who tended to be overly dramatic and concerned about what he’d always considered to be the mundane. Where had she been before she moved into the Dower House?
He pulled out a piece of paper, dipped his pen in the standish, and said a short prayer that she would respond quickly.
Dear Aunt Emily,
I hope this letter finds you in good health—that would be necessary if she were to take over his household. As you might have heard, I find myself in need of a kind and resourceful relative to help me take care of my younger sisters. I immediately thought of you. If it would not be too much of an imposition I would like for you to take on that role for the foreseeable future. If you ag
ree, I shall send the traveling coach to fetch you to Town.
Yr. humble servant,
Exeter
After sealing the missive and franking it, he strode to the door and handed it to the footman. “Please have this sent by express to the Dower House at Longwood.”
As the footman hurried away, his butler was approaching. “My lord, Lord Littleton has arrived and your horse is ready. I have taken the liberty to send for your gloves and hat.”
“Thank you.” By the time Alex arrived in the hall, his valet was there with his accouterments. “I shall return in about an hour.”
He met Littleton, who was seated on a black gelding. “I’m glad you were free.”
“I usually ride in the Park, and this will be a good time for you to start meeting some of the young ladies.”
Alex swung up onto his horse. “I need to hire a secretary. Do you happen to know of anyone?”
“Not at the present.” His friend shook his head. “I can make some inquiries.”
“I’d appreciate it.”
As they headed out of Grosvenor Square he wondered once again if he would see Lady Dorie. As luck would have it, he was introduced to several ladies, but the one he was searching for was not to be found.
* * * *
The next evening, Dorie dressed with more care than usual. Since the debacle with Lord Littleton, she had not been interested in attracting a gentleman, but it was time. Lord Fotheringale was to be at the musical evening, and she wished to see if he was the gentleman for her. Appearing at her best was the first step. With any luck, Lord Exeter would have received his own invitation and not accompany her family.
Yet, to her dismay, Lord Exeter had arrived precisely at the appointed time, and their group, she, her mother, father, and Exeter, had departed for Mrs. Brownly’s house. Once they arrived, Dorie found Henrietta with her sister and brother-in-law.
“Who was that?” Speaking in a hushed tone, Henrietta pulled Dorie aside shortly after she had joined her friend.
“That is the Marquis of Exeter.” Yesterday afternoon after he had left, her mother had attempted to discuss the marquis, but Dorie had pled fatigue and gone straight to her chamber. She had prayed against all certainty that he would not be able to accompany them this evening—the man did absolutely nothing for her equilibrium—but he had.
The green in his waistcoat set off his jasper-green eyes. The chandeliers picked out the gold in his rich, dark brown hair. Yes, he was handsome. One of the most handsome men she had ever met, but she had almost fallen in love with another handsome gentleman who had not loved her. She was not going through that again. And she was not going to be married because a gentleman happened to require a wife.
She gave herself a shake. “Do you want him?”
“Hmmm.” Her friend slipped a sidelong glance at the man. “He is extremely good-looking, but I do not think he is for me.”
Dorie let out an exasperated puff of air. “Since you decided to involve yourself in his affairs, you may help me find him a wife.” For some reason she could not explain, she felt as if she had to settle Exeter before she could get on with her life. She took a glass of champagne from a passing footman. “In fact, I think Adeline and Georgie should help as well. I would ask Augusta, but she has enough on her mind.”
Augusta wished to attend university in Padua and her mother was proving to be a problem.
“Very well.” Henrietta sipped her glass of champagne. “We shall all make up lists and compare them tomorrow.”
“Excellent.” Dorie hoped the task would not be too difficult. For that matter, one of her other two good friends might be interested in taking him on and marrying the man. From the looks he’d given her, she knew the only way to get rid of him was to find a lady to wed him. “Here is Adeline. We should tell her what is going on.”
“But which gentleman is he?” Adeline asked, after they’d mentioned their scheme.
“The tall man speaking with Lord Huntingdon near the stairs,” Henrietta said.
Adeline’s eyes widened. “He’s quite exceptional looking. Dorie, are you sure you are not interested?”
“Positive.” Lord Exeter would have to be more than handsome. He would have to fall in love with her just as she was, and she did not think he was looking beyond a match of convenience. “Are you interested in him?”
“Er, no.” A line formed between Adeline’s eyes. “I am not ready to act as a mother to almost grown children.”
To be fair, the girls really did not need a mother. They did require a lady who could show them how to go on and make them ready for their Seasons. They had been terribly sweet to Dorie, but she did not know how they would react to another lady.
Several minutes later Georgie and Augusta had arrived as well. Before their group could convene to the end of the terrace, they had to look at Lord Exeter as well. He had moved away from Dorie’s father and was more difficult to find in the crowd that gathered along the sides of the two drawing rooms that had been combined by opening the pocket doors. A small stage had been set up at one end of the long room, and several rows of chairs stood in the middle. She should have done something to make him more visible. Although, other than asking him to wear a bottle green jacket or something of the sort, she did not know what she could have done. Georgie also declined to form an interest in his lordship. No one bothered to ask Augusta. She was not interested in marriage this Season.
“Well,” Dorie said. “If none of us wants him, we must find him another lady. Whom do you suggest?”
“I thought we were going to make lists,” Henrietta objected.
“There is no reason we cannot make a start this evening.” Dorie wanted this done and out of the way. Her brief stint running a household had made her decide that she did indeed wish to wed sooner than later, and she could not go about proper husband hunting with this last duty on her hands. Yes, that is what it was: a duty.
“Dorie is correct,” Augusta commented. “He has had a great deal of unexpected responsibility thrust upon him, and whomever we choose must be up to the task of guiding him through it.”
“I have to say that I agree,” Adeline said. “The lady must be mature.”
“In that case”—Georgie pulled a face—“we should strike Miss Tice and Miss Martindale.”
“Neither of them would suit,” Dorie said. “Not only are they not up to snuff”—it amazed Dorie that their mothers had brought them out when they still acted like blushing fifteen-year-olds—“but they are still looking for gentlemen who live close together. Like their sisters managed to do.”
“Good luck to them.” Henrietta shook her head in disgust.
“What about Lady Letitia Cummings?” Adeline suggested. “She is one and twenty and has been told this will be her last Season if she does not stop being so particular.”
“That is so much stuff and nonsense from her father,” Georgie said. “He wants her married, but her mother will not allow him to forbid her a fifth Season.”
“Very well.” Henrietta took out a pocket book and pencil from her reticule. “Lady Letitia is on the list. Who else can we add?”
“Miss Emerson,” Adeline offered. “She is twenty and confided in me that she wishes to be married as soon as can be. I do not think remaining with her parents suits her.”
Henrietta scratched the lady’s name down.
“Lady Jane Donnet is our age, but very mature, and she has younger brothers and sisters,” Augusta said. “She might be willing to take Exeter’s sisters and him on.”
“Can anyone think of any other ladies?” Dorie asked. One by one her friends shook their heads. “At least that is a start. We can all give it some more thought and discuss our plan tomorrow.” Other guests close to the French windows began to move inside. “I believe Mrs. Fodor is about to begin.”
“Oh, wait,” Adeline said. “Mis
s Chatham might be a possibility.”
Miss Chatham? Dorie searched her memory for any information she knew about the lady other than that she was in her first Season.
“I do not know if she is a good option,” Georgie said. “Her family’s estate is not that large. She might not have the necessary qualifications.”
“We will find out.” As Dorie entered the drawing room she spotted Lord Exeter speaking with Lord and Lady Elliott. Good, perhaps he would sit with them.
“Why is it so hard to think of names,” Adeline complained. “We must know dozens of suitable ladies.”
“We can add them as we think of them.” Dorie felt the same frustration.
CHAPTER FIVE
Dorie was following her friends into a row of chairs when the very gentleman they had been discussing stepped in front of her and bowed. “My lady, would you do me the honor of sitting with me?”
A denial was on her lips, but two older ladies took the last two seats in the row, making it impossible for her to sit with her friends. She pasted a polite smile on her face. “I would be delighted, my lord.”
As he led her to their seats, she searched for at least one of the women on the list and saw Lady Letitia speaking animatedly with Lord Gray, her hand on his arm as he led them to chairs at the other end of the drawing room. Well, drat. Miss Emerson was likewise engaged with Mr. Seaton-Smythe. The Season was only a month old, but there had already been several betrothals. Dorie sincerely hoped that two more were not in the making. Their list of ladies was pathetically short as it was. As was her list of gentlemen, if Fotheringale turned out not to be the right gentleman for her. She would attempt to catch the ladies without the gentlemen and introduce them to Exeter.
“My sisters were thrilled to receive the ribbons.” Lord Exeter smiled as he guided her to a chair and waited for her to sit. “Thank you for your thoughtfulness.”
“Think nothing of it. They were a trifling. All girls like ribbons.” Mrs. Fodor was speaking to her accompanist, and Dorie wished she’d get on with the performance.
