by Ella Quinn
Dorie wondered what that meant. Naturally, she would choose the man she wished to wed. She would never allow something as important as a husband to simply occur as if by fate.
As they walked their horses back to the gate, Lord Exeter trotted in. “My lady, your grace.”
That should have been the other way around, but Louisa did not seem to notice. “Good morning, my lord.”
He glanced at Louisa but then focused his bright green eyes on Dorie. “I trust you had a good ride?”
“Excellent. Thank you. I wish you a wonderful ride as well.” She inclined her head, and he doffed his hat. “Good day.”
“Good day.” He rode off as if he had nothing else on his mind, but this was only the second time since he began riding in the morning that he had not been there when she was. Dorie hoped nothing was wrong.
“Exeter is an interesting gentleman. He dined with us the other night,” Louisa said. “My husband knew him at school.”
“Interesting how?” Dorie had never had a more than ordinary conversation with him. Unless one considered his family problems fascinating.
“His travels. He visited many more places than major sites one hears about.”
“I shall have to ask him about them the next time I see him.” Why was it that he never talked to her about his time on the Continent? All he ever discussed with her was the mundane things that all gentlemen talked about. And why was she so discomposed about his failure?
“You should, indeed.” They had reached Grosvenor Square and Louisa brought her horse to a halt before turning toward the other side of the square. “I’ll see you later.”
“At Lady Bellamny’s ball?” Dorie asked.
“Yes, we will be there.” Louisa grinned. “It might be time for me to announce my news after all. Before everyone figures it out on their own.”
“That will give the ton something new to gossip about.” Instead of poor Lord Exeter and his family. Dorie headed back to her parents’ house. She was dancing with Lord Fotheringale for the supper dance this evening. It would be a good time to assess the progress they were making and to see if she could feel that frisson her mother and Louisa had mentioned. Especially as it seemed so essential for a love match. She really would like to wed and begin her life.
* * * *
Hell and damnation!
Alex watched as Lady Dorie and the duchess rode out of the Park. And blast his mother. She was the reason he’d been so late this morning. Her letter telling him that the estate was not as rustic as she had expected, her husband owned a very pretty town house in Edinburgh, and that she wished to take his sisters had had him up half the night. On one hand, it would solve his immediate problem of finding a wife quickly or someone to help him take care of them. On the other hand, the gossip—that he hoped had now ended—made him realize how important it was that they not be associated with their mother. Not if Penelope and Phillida wanted a chance to make good marriages. To make it worse, Mama had to know that, and he was going to have to answer her. Not only that, but he was not looking forward to telling his sisters they could not live with or even visit Mama. The only question was whether to tell her about the talk that had begun due to her behavior. Actually, he’d have to. And now he wasn’t even going to be able to spend time with Dorie and ask if he could have the supper dance this evening. If the rest of his day was going to be like this, he might as well go back to bed.
Titan snorted. Alex stroked the horse’s neck.
“Very well. As long as we’re here, we’ll have a good run.” Then he’d go home and write to his mother refusing her offer and to Dorie asking for a dance.
Once he sat down to write to Mama, it was not at all difficult. What had been a problem was to write one in which his fury at her was not pouring out. It had taken four drafts before his anger had dissipated sufficiently for him to be at all civil. Even then he couldn’t manage to hide his ire. In the end, he did his best to be polite, but he made very clear that due to her own behavior, it would be a long time before she’d see her daughters again.
An hour later, he finally sent the letter to her to be posted and had a messenger take a note to Dorie. He was searching for a book on crop rotation, hoping to find some information on the benefits of using red clover, when his butler entered the library carrying a missive.
“My lord. Lady Dorie has responded. Shall I place it on the table?”
“Yes, please.” Alex descended the ladder and picked up the letter. Anticipation filled him as he opened it.
Dear Lord Exeter,
I regret that I already have a partner for the supper dance this evening.
Your friend,
D. C.
Hell! He ought to have asked her earlier. Still, she must have one set left. Striding up the corridor to the hall, he called for his hat and gloves. “I am going to Huntingdon House. I’ll be back shortly. I hope.”
A few minutes later, he was being announced to Lady Huntingdon. “My lady. Good day.” Alex bowed. “I wondered if I might have a word with Lady Dorie?”
Her ladyship stepped over to the bell-pull, and when a footman answered she said, “Bring tea, and please tell Lady Dorie I wish to see her.”
The tea arrived before the lady did.
“I hope your sisters are doing well.” Lady Huntingdon handed him a cup.
“They are. I would like to encourage them to plan some sort of get-together with the other girls they know”—the two or three of them—“but I am unsure how to go about doing it.”
She tilted her head slightly and a line formed between her eyes. “As a bachelor, unfortunately, you cannot.” That’s what he’d feared. “However, there is no reason why I cannot plan a small party and your sisters can attend.”
That was a very nice offer, but …“I do not like to continually impose upon you.”
She waved her hand. “Think nothing of it.” She took a sip of tea. “It is my pleasure. When you are married, you may return the favor.”
“Mama, you wished to see me?” Lady Dorie entered the room and stopped when she saw him. Her honeyed hair was in a loose knot, and curling tendrils framed her face. She looked like a Greek or Roman goddess. “Good day, my lord.” She cast an adorably confused look at her mother. “Why did you not tell me Lord Exeter was here?”
Having risen when she entered, Alex bowed. “My lady, I hoped to discover whether you had at least one set free this evening.”
Frowning, she shook her head. “I am sorry, but I do not.”
“Are all your dances for Lady Elliott’s ball taken?” Damn, he felt like a beggar asking for crumbs.
“Not at all.” The smile she gave him threatened to blind him. “Do you have a particular set in mind?”
“The supper dance.” He held his breath and waited.
She seemed to consider him for a few seconds before responding, “Yes. I would be delighted.”
“Thank you.” Alex forced himself to breathe normally. He’d been a fool to think he could ask her for a set at the last minute. Next time he wouldn’t wait so long.
She glanced at her mother. “Mama, do you want anything?”
“No, dear. You may go.”
He turned to Lady Huntingdon. As long as she was offering favors, he had one he really did need to ask. “Do you happen to know if you have anything on red clover as a cover crop?”
Her ladyship’s eyes widened in surprise. “I have no idea. I shall ask one of the footmen to search for you.”
“Mama, we have one Papa got last year,” Dorie said. “If you will come with me to the library, my lord, I can show you where the estate planning volumes are located.”
“Thank you.” Well, that answered the question he’d had a few weeks ago. She must know about estate management if she knew what books they had.
By the time they reached the library, a maid had ap
peared and entered the room behind them. Alex shouldn’t be surprised. Her mother was too careful to allow her to be in a room alone with him. The library was about the same size as his with mahogany bookshelves lining the walls and built between long windows, each with a window seat upholstered in dark green velvet.
She led him to a section lit by one of the windows. “We have two that are of particular interest.” She took out a book bound in black cloth and handed it to him. “This is a collection of notes.” Turning back to the shelf she removed a book in green leather and gave it to him. “This is a review of reports dating back several years.”
Both tomes appeared to have a great deal of information. “Have you read them?”
“I have. I believe you will find the reports more interesting as there are comparisons of cover crops.”
Good Lord, he felt stupid. Or perhaps ignorant was a better word. Rightfully, he should know all this and more. “I should probably not admit this, but I did not even know what a cover crop was until I read the past year’s estate journals.”
For a second Alex thought he saw pity in her expressive hazel eyes, but it was gone in an instant, and her face was full of compassion. “My mother told me that your father did not prepare you for your duties. I am, we are all happy to help you.”
“Thank you.” Yet compassion and certainly pity were not what he wanted from her. He wanted her to see him as a man who was interested in her. And it was more than her abilities that attracted him. He had wanted her physically since he had first seen her. But now there was more. When they’d first met, he hadn’t looked past her beauty and suitability. Then he’d seen her kindness …to him and to his sisters, and to others as well. Alex had seen her. And now he wanted her to see him. But how did a man go about getting a woman to see him and want him as he was coming to want her in his life? This was the part his brother-in-law had said was up to the Fates. That wasn’t good enough. There had to be something he could do. According to the Greeks, the Fates were female. Perhaps he ought to ask a female. But the only woman he could ask was his sister, and his attempts to do that had not been successful.
* * * *
The next day, Dorie rode into the Park to find Lord Exeter already there. “Good morning.”
“Good morning to you.” He turned his horse to ride with her. “Are you ready for a run?”
She was. Last evening had told her nothing more about how she felt about Lord Fotheringale, leaving her frustrated with the lack of progress. “I am looking forward to it.”
“Do you want a head start?” He gave her a crooked smile letting her know he was funning, and she suddenly felt a little breathless.
“Head start, indeed. You knew I would not. We shall go on the count of three.”
His smile grew wider. “You’ve caught me out. Right then. On the count of three. One. Two. Three.”
As if the horses knew what that meant, they started racing. Titan was much larger but seemed to lope along. Willa, however, wanted to win. Not surprisingly, she and Dorie arrived first.
She turned to face Lord Exeter. “I do not think Titan even tried.”
His lordship pulled a funny face. “It wasn’t for lack of me trying to make him go faster.”
“Yes, I know.” She couldn’t help but to laugh. “I could hear you cursing him.”
An appalled look appeared on his face. “But not the words, I hope?”
“No, not the words.” At times it was ridiculous how far gentlemen took not exposing ladies to bad language. In fact, she had a memory of Huntley’s mouth being washed out with soap when he’d said a bad word around her and her father had heard him. Still, she liked that Lord Exeter had been careful not to swear around her. “It was more in the way you were talking. You kept your voice much too low for me to hear anything.”
He rubbed his forehead. “Thank heaven for that. I would not wish to insult a lady.”
“Is that what it’s about?” Neither her father nor brother would discuss it. “I have always wondered.”
A flush colored his cheeks. “Would you like to race again?”
And neither did Lord Exeter wish to discuss the matter. Willa was not exactly lathered—but she had been determined to win—still, Dorie didn’t wish her mare to push herself so soon. “Let’s walk them for a while, and you can tell me about your Grand Tour. I have always been interested about the Continent.”
“What would you like to know?” His easygoing manner was restored by the change in subject. Strange, she could not imagine talking to Lord Fotheringale about this at all.
“Where did you travel?”
“At first, I did what everyone else does and started with the major cities, but my father’s connections and the letters of introduction he gave me enabled me to venture out. He had made a Grand Tour and maintained a correspondence with many of the people he met.”
Lord Exeter went on to describe Nice in the south of France and the small towns on the way to Venice, as well as the Sorrento Coast. “I think I liked Italy the best. It had not been as war-damaged as France and the people there had a joy of life.”
“Did you travel to Spain and Portugal?” Dorie asked. She had heard a bit about both countries from officers who had returned.
“I saw some of them on the way back, but then I received word my father had died and took the next ship home.” He caught her gaze with his and her breath hitched. “I’d like to return someday.”
By this time, they had reached her house. “Thank you. This morning was enjoyable.”
“It has been.” He had a rueful smile on his face. “Perhaps next time Titan can be convinced to actually race.”
She laughed and shook her head. The gelding never actually liked to race. “I think he is much too good-natured to be bothered.”
“You may well be right.” Before she knew what Lord Exeter was doing, he’d dismounted and was waiting to help her down. All Dorie’s breath left her as he lifted her off her horse and smiled. “Until the next time.”
“Yes.” She could barely breathe. “Until then.”
Before she entered her house she saw him swing himself onto the back of his horse in a smooth, fluid movement that was as elegant as it was impressive. And she felt a pang of regret that he was not looking for a love match. As she entered the hall, she remembered that today was Wednesday and Almack’s. How could she have forgotten to ask if he had received his voucher? Well, there was nothing she could do about it now.
She vowed to keep herself busy and her thoughts off Lord Exeter. She had never experienced the strange tightness of breath before. Then again, she had never been bodily lifted off her horse before. Or a carriage for that matter. She could not imagine the strength it took to do that. Still, that had not been fraught with as many sensations as when he had touched her today. Yet none of that changed the fact that he had shown no true interest in her. Then again she had not seen it from Fotheringale either. Trudging up the stairs, she hoped that she did not have to go through another Season before she met the gentleman she would wed.
“Was that Lord Exeter I saw leaving just now?” Her mother stood at the first landing of the staircase.
Dorie could not stop herself from tensing. Had her mother known all along that she was riding early in the morning? “Yes, I saw him when I was out riding.”
“I am glad you had company.” Mama’s brows puckered slightly. “If you wished for it, that is.”
“I find him to be more interesting than I originally thought he was.” That was the truth. Dorie had wanted him to talk to her about his travels, and she got her wish.
“Then all is well.” Her mother continued down the stairs.
“Yes. It is. I shall join you shortly.” But why was Mama up so early? She usually broke her fast in her chambers.
Dorie didn’t know whether to hurry or take her time. Yet, she wanted to catch Papa before
he left for the Lords and ask if he had put the writ for Lord Exeter in motion. It had only been a day, but surely something this important could not take that long. She decided to hurry, but even though she and Curran had gone as quickly as they could, Dorie heard the front door shut as she rushed down the stairs.
She entered the breakfast room, filled her plate, and poured a cup of tea. “Am I late or is Papa early?”
“He is off to ensure Exeter receives his writ sooner than later.” Her mother lifted her cup, hiding her face, but Dorie had the feeling something had amused her mother.
“Oh, I was going to ask about the writ.” She ate most of her breakfast before asking, “Do you happen to know if Lord Exeter has been sent vouchers for Almack’s?” Considering his mother’s behavior it was not at all certain that he would.
“He has. I expect we will see him this evening.” Her mother took the newssheet from where Papa sat and passed part of it to her.
“I must see if there are any ladies to whom I can introduce him.” Perhaps Lady Marah Grant would be there. Dorie would also save a dance in the event he asked for one. She had no idea if he had attended Almack’s before he left on his Grand Tour, but she suspected he had not. And she vividly remembered how nervous she had been her first time at Almack’s.
“Why are you so concerned?” Mama asked.
One of the footmen set a fresh rack of toast just the way Dorie liked it—well buttered and slightly burnt—next to her. “He needs a wife and does not seem to care if he has a love match. So, Henrietta and the rest of us decided to help him find a bride. One who will meet his needs.” She applied herself to her breakfast. “We thought of Lady Letitia, but there was that problem with her talking about his sisters, and it appears she will receive an offer from Lord Gray. Victoria Emerson was another possibility, but she is now betrothed to Mr. Seaton-Smythe.”
Mama sipped her tea and picked up the paper. “I do not know whether to be pleased about either engagement. They are not the first ladies to whom either gentleman proposed this Season. Hopefully, they will be the last. If you would like, I shall give it some thought as well.”
