by Ella Quinn
“It seems to me that the ladies a gentleman would wish to wed are the ones who require a love match. They are the ones who know their own minds and can do the most to contribute to a man’s happiness. If you look around, all of your friends, myself included, are in love with our wives.” A small smile appeared on his face. “Caro wouldn’t have had me if I hadn’t been able to convince her that I loved her. I am sure it was the same for the other ladies.”
Alex had trouble with the idea that all his friends had fallen in love. “Even Merton?”
Huntley barked a laugh. “Especially Merton. He fought it like the very devil.”
Miss Featherton had been correct after all. “That makes my path more difficult. It’s much easier to ask a lady’s father to arrange the thing than to make her fall in love with you.”
Huntley laughed. “But not nearly as satisfying.” They’d turned onto St. James Street. “Do you have anyone in mind?”
Alex wanted to run a finger beneath his neckcloth. Should he tell the man, his friend, that he was interested in Dorie? Would Huntley approve? Well, he might as well find out if the family had an objection to him as a husband for her. Alex had trouble getting the words out and they were much thinner than he liked. “I thought Lady Dorie might be interested.”
Huntley stopped walking and faced Alex. “Are you sure you know what you’re getting yourself into? She will not be ruled.”
It was his turn to smile. “She is quite managing, but I find I like that.”
“Good luck. I can guarantee she will settle for nothing less than a love match.” They’d reached Brooks’s and walked up the shallow steps. “Let’s get you settled here. I’d like to assist you with your other problem, but you’re on your own when it comes to my sister.”
And that really was the difficulty. Never having been in love, Alex did not even know how one went about falling in love or making a lady fall in love with him. Yet how hard could it be when all his friends had done it? Even Merton.
After being assured that he would be notified about his membership on the morrow, and indulging in a glass of wine with Huntley, Alex strolled back to his house and called for his carriage. If he saw Dorie walking with her friends, he’d ask if he could take her up.
When he reached the carriage way, he saw several ladies to whom he had been introduced, including Miss Chatham, but not Dorie. Continuing to look for her along the verge, it wasn’t until he noticed Fotheringale’s green curricle pulled up along the edge that he thought he might have found her. He was even with it before he could see the occupants.
Fotheringale and Dorie.
She was speaking with someone who was strolling, and he was staring at her like she was his favorite dessert. Bloody hell-hounds! Remembering how they had behaved during their dance the other evening, Alex wondered if the man was courting her. But if Fotheringale was courting her, wouldn’t he have made sure he’d asked her for the supper dance? Whatever was going on, Alex would have to start …start …doing what? He supposed he could start with flowers. His sisters had always liked them. He remembered Judith and Marcella laughing over the poetry that had been sent. He damn sure wasn’t going to make a fool of himself by writing poetry.
Looking up, Dorie saw him and waved. Did that mean he had a chance to fix her affections? He returned her salute and inclined his head at Fotheringale. Alex did not like seeing her with the man. Not that there was anything objectionable about Fotheringale. Other than that he was with Dorie. Blast it all. If Alex was going to court Dorie, he had better start soon, and he needed a plan. Maybe his sister would have some ideas. He’d ask her when she and her husband joined him for dinner this evening. Good Lord. He hated not feeling in control and not knowing what to do.
If he couldn’t spend time with her, he was no longer interested in driving in the Park. Alex looked at crowds of carriages and wondered the quickest way to get out of the place. Then Miss Stern and Lady Adeline hailed him, and he took both of them up in his carriage for a little way.
“Are you enjoying being back in England?” Miss Stern asked. “Other than the challenges you have encountered.”
“It has been interesting.” He was not going to tell her he hadn’t seen much more than his house, Huntingdon House, and dozens of ballrooms.
“Speaking of challenges,” Lady Adeline said. “I saw Lady Bellamny speaking sternly with Lady Letitia and her mother. I suspect you will hear no more from that quarter.”
The news buoyed him up and made his delay going home worth it. “Thank you for telling me.”
“You may put us down now,” Miss Stern said. “We merely wanted people to see you with us.”
What was he to think of that remark? “I beg your pardon?”
“This might be our first Season, but we are extremely well connected.” Her smile reminded him how frightening young ladies were.
“Thank you, my lord,” Lady Adeline said when he helped them down.
“Yes, thank you.” Miss Stern dipped a curtsey.
Next he was waylaid by some of the older matrons he had met at the balls.
Lady Jersey reminded him not to forget to attend Almack’s, and Lady Bellamny assured him she would expect him to attend her ball. It wasn’t until he was almost in Grosvenor Square that it occurred to him he had received the approval of the leaders of the ton. Whatever status Lady Letitia and her mother had, it was not sufficient to make him unacceptable. Therefore, his younger sisters would be accepted as well. And that had been Dorie’s doing. She and the ladies with whom she was friends. He did not think her concern had been out of duty. It had most likely been out of friendship. For a second, Alex was overjoyed. But friendship wasn’t love, and how long of a road was it between friendship and love? How would he even know when it had happened?
This falling in love made life much more problematical just when it did not need more complications. Alex didn’t know why the world had decided to change on him, but he didn’t like it.
Scanning the crowd, he searched for Dorie, but couldn’t find her or a carriage that looked like Fotheringale’s. The more Alex thought about it, the more he was convinced that she and Fotheringale were not a good match. Dorie needed a stronger man than him. He would allow her to walk all over him. She needed a gentleman who would challenge her and encourage her to use all her talents. Someone like Alex. He simply had to convince her.
CHAPTER TWELVE
That evening, Judith and her husband, Nigel, arrived at Exeter House not long after Penelope and Phillida returned.
After gliding into the drawing room, Judith embraced Alex warmly, and the feather hanging down from her headgear—Alex didn’t quite know what to call the piece of fabric and floppy feather—tickled his cheek. “Exeter, thank you for allowing us to impose, but you have seen what it is like at our house. I am so very sorry I have not had time to visit you.” She glanced around. “Where are the girls?”
“They had dinner with friends and are in the nursery. Would you like to go up and see them?”
“Naturally, I wish to see them. If it wasn’t for the new baby, I would have them with me.” She blew a kiss to her husband. “I’ll be back soon, dearest.”
As she disappeared into the corridor, Alex handed his brother-in-law a glass of wine. “How have you been doing?”
Nigel raised a brow. “Other than living in Bedlam?”
Alex winced. When he’d said it, he hadn’t thought of it getting back to his sister. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine.” Nigel chuckled. “Judith was furious to hear about the talk that had started about Penelope and Phillida, but she was also extremely proud to hear you took it upon yourself to stanch the gossip.”
“I don’t know what else I could have done.” Alex poured himself a glass of wine. “I could not allow my sisters to be made pariahs. I will tell you that I did not make excuses for our mother.”
&
nbsp; “I do not know how you could have.” Nigel’s tone was flinter than Alex had ever heard it. “She made a mess of the whole thing. By coming to Town she laid the whole family open to gossip. If Ju hadn’t been ready to give birth, I would have followed Marcella and John’s example and gone to the Continent.”
Alex had been angry at his other sister for doing that, but his brother-in-law made sense. “I can only trust that by the time Penelope makes her come out, the talk will have died.”
After taking a sip of wine, his brother-in-law said, “You making a good marriage will also help.”
There it was again! He almost raked his hand through his hair. “That’s easy for you to say, but one cannot not, apparently, approach the father of a lady and ask for an arranged love match, any longer. I do not even know… How does one go about arranging a love match?”
He could see Nigel’s struggle to keep from bursting out laughing. After a few moments, his lips stopped twitching. “One does not arrange a love match. It just happens.”
Alex downed his wine and poured another glass. “That tells me nothing at all.”
His brother-in-law gave him an incredulous look. “Haven’t you ever been infatuated or in love, even with the local barmaid?”
“No.” Alex thought back to the women with whom he’d had liaisons. “That’s not to say, I didn’t have anything to do with women. I have not been a monk by any means. But it was never more than a bit of fun. No matter how talented they were in certain areas, not one of them made me want to do anything romantic or to declare my love for them.” He took a drink of wine. “I don’t even know if I’d recognize love if I felt it.”
“I see the problem.” Nigel finished his glass and handed it out to be refilled. “If you are lucky, there will come a time when a lady catches your eye and the rest of your body will follow suit. No matter what you do, you cannot get her out of your mind. Eventually, it will sink in through your thick head that you’d do anything to make her happy and you find yourself praying you are the one thing she wants more than anything else in the world.” He took a long draw of wine. “Accompanying that feeling are massive amounts of jealousy when you think she might be interested in another man, and the wish you could drag her away and make her yours. Eventually, you realize you have, against your will, fallen in love.”
Alex thought about Lady Dorie. She was definitely occupying his mind a great deal. “How do you make her fall in love with you?”
“That, my dear man”—Nigel lifted his glass in a salute—“is up to the Fates.”
“Aren’t the Fates females?”
“Yes, they are.” He smirked.
Well, hell!
* * * *
Dorie was the first one down to the drawing room before dinner that evening. She poured herself a glass of sherry and ambled to the window overlooking a narrow side garden that bordered the street. Ever since she had returned from her drive with Lord Fotheringale that afternoon, something had been niggling at her. If only she knew what it was.
She had had a pleasant enough time with his lordship. They stopped frequently to greet friends. Naturally, they talked about people they knew, and he never had an unkind word to say about anyone. There was nothing objectionable about his physical appearance. He was not as tall as her brother or Lord Exeter—although, why he should pop into her mind as an example was curious—or as broad shouldered. But still, Lord Fotheringale was a well set-up man and would be even more so if he partook in more exercise such as boxing or fencing. He had warm brown eyes that reminded her of a doe she had once nursed back to health when she had been a child. He did not appear to have many strong opinions, but that did not matter. She had enough strong opinions for both of them. In short, he was a very nice man who was comfortable to spend time with. So what was wrong?
“You look to be in a brown study.” Mama came up to the window, glass in hand.
Dorie had not even heard her mother enter the room. “I have been trying to discover what is bothering me about Lord Fotheringale.”
“Fotheringale?” Mama’s brows climbed halfway up her forehead.
That was almost the same look Caro had earlier. “What is the matter with him?”
Her mother shook her head. “Absolutely nothing of which I am aware. He has always seemed to be a pleasant enough young man.”
“Yes.” She was glad to have her thoughts confirmed. “So I believe.”
Mama patted Dorie on her shoulder. “If he is the one who makes your pulse race, I have no objection to him.”
Make my pulse race? What did that have to do with anything? “Did Papa make your, er, pulse race?”
“Oh my, yes.” Her mother got a dreamy look on her face. “I suspect that was the reason he approached my father about a match.”
Surely pulse racing was not completely necessary. “I do not remember Caro saying that Huntley gave her that sort of reaction. She thought he was extremely annoying.”
“Very true.” Mama sipped her wine. “But she did not think of him as merely a nice man.”
“He is nice, but irritating as well.” Huntley had a strong sense of duty to his family and the common good. Dorie had noticed the same thing in many of his friends, including Lord Exeter.
There he is again. I wish the man would stop including himself in my thoughts.
“You are his sister,” Mama pointed out. “Naturally, you think he is irksome.”
“He has not been as bad since marrying Caro.” But that was probably because he now had a wife and child to which to attend.
“He is also not living with us.” Mama’s tone was so dry, Dorie wanted to laugh.
Apparently, she was not the only one her brother had vexed. Still, that did not answer the question that was bothering her about Lord Fotheringale. Her father joined them, putting an end to her musings. Perhaps she should stop worrying about it. The difficulty was bound to sort itself out sooner or later.
“I need to tell Papa something.” When she turned, her mother had gone to her father. Her heart skipped a beat at the smiles her parents gave each other. That was exactly what she wanted from her husband, whoever he might be. “Papa?”
“More sherry?” He lifted the decanter.
“Yes, please.” She waited until he had refreshed his glass. “I mentioned the Catholic situation to Lord Exeter, and I believe that if you approach him he will be happy to have you sponsor him.”
Turning to her, her father gave her his full attention. “What did he say?”
“He said that he thought all religions should be treated fairly, and he would welcome your sponsorship.” She liked the idea that Exeter held ideas close to her own. Strange that she never discussed politics with Fotheringale. She should remedy that.
“Well done, Dorie.” Papa lifted his glass in a toast. “Not that I’m pressing you, but I can barely wait until you are a political hostess.”
That was what she wanted as well. A home to manage, to be influential in politics, a husband who loved her, and eventually, children. “Thank you.”
Banwell announced dinner. They had no entertainments to attend this evening—Mama did not believe in becoming fagged to death during the Season—which suited Dorie. She would be able to get a full night’s sleep before riding in the morning.
By six the following morning, she and Willa were racing through the Park. They had slowed to a walk when a rider on a large bay galloped past accompanied by a Great Dane. At first Dorie thought it was Augusta but remembered she was usually up late studying.
Not long afterward, Louisa Rothwell trotted up to Dorie. “Good morning. I so miss being able to ride every morning. Enjoy it while you still are able.”
That did not make sense. “Why cannot you ride in the morning?”
“My daughter is an early riser and wants to see her mother first thing. Thankfully, my son likes his sleep or I would
never get out of the house.” Louisa smiled. “Not that I mind. It simply keeps me from riding as much as I wish.” She touched her stomach. “I will not be able to do it much longer. By this time next year we will have a third child. But please do not tell anyone. Rothwell and I have not told our families yet.”
“I shan’t.” Dorie would like children. Caro’s little boy was almost a year old, and she was already talking about the next baby. Then it occurred to Dorie that the duchess might have some advice she could give her about men. “Did your pulse race when you first saw Rothwell?”
A faraway smile appeared on Louisa’s face. “My pulse and every other part of me. The moment I saw him, I knew he was for me.”
That was disconcerting and unwelcome. “My mother said almost the same thing.”
Louisa brought her horse round to walk with Dorie. “I take it there is a gentleman in whom you are interested and that has not occurred between the two of you?”
“Yes.” She frowned. “I mean, no. It has not.” This was becoming more complicated than she had thought it would be. “I do not know if it is necessary to feel that way or if he is not the right one.”
“I do not know if it will help, but Charlotte Kenilworth and Dotty Merton each had different experiences with their husbands. However, eventually, they felt the same thing I feel for Rothwell. It just took longer. In Charlotte’s case she actively disliked Kenilworth at first.”
“Thank you. That is a great help.” Another strong feeling. Apparently Mama was correct. Still, there was nothing wrong with Dorie giving Fotheringale more time. If by the end of the Season she did not experience that sort of thing, she would give up her search until next year. “I have been thinking there was something missing. That must be it. Yet I am in no rush.”
“Neither were any of us.” Louisa’s began to twinkle. “In my experience, love comes when it is ready.” In an instant, her eyes brimmed with laughter. “And sometimes it is not the person one thought it would be.”
