by Ella Quinn
Her face fell for a moment before she remembered to maintain her countenance. Still, her eyes became watery. “I do not know what to do.”
“What you cannot do is weep.” The set had ended and he escorted her slowly back to her mother. It hadn’t been difficult for Alex’s family to contact him. He wondered if the letter had even been sent or if it had been lost. “I shall see what I can do.” That would help with part of her difficulty. “I’ll also dance with you and take you for carriage rides. Perhaps your father will lose interest in Lytton.”
“I cannot thank you enough, my lord.” Her voice was a rough whisper.
“I have had had to rely on others since my return. I am happy to be able to help you.” After all, he was a marquis. It shouldn’t be too difficult to get a message to Dursley. And if he ran into a problem, he knew just who to ask for help.
“If there is anything else I can to do assist you, please tell me.” For the first time that evening, the lady had seemed to relax.
He was about to demur, but it occurred to Alex that Miss Chatham might be able to assist him. “I am trying to court another lady but do not seem to be going about it the right way.”
“Lady Dorie?” Miss Chatham said in a voice so low he almost didn’t hear her.
“Indeed.” How did she know? He didn’t think he’d been that obvious. They had reached her mother and he bowed before they began to stroll to the supper room. To which he was not looking forward.
“Let me give it some thought,” she whispered.
During supper of weak tea, stale bread and butter, and dry cake, she entertained him with stories of her brothers and sisters. The few times she did mention Dursley, Mrs. Chatham pursed her lips together in disapproval. Was there some bad blood between the families? He hoped this was not a Romeo and Juliet situation. Yet if that was the case, why would Dursley’s sister be assisting her? Not that it was any bread and butter of his. He would assist the lady in any way he could to keep her out of Lytton’s clutches. Short of marrying her that was.
* * * *
The next day after Alex collected Miss Chatham she surprised him by saying, “You mentioned requiring assistance from others since you returned home. Can you think of anything that Lady Dorie could do to help you?”
He could but did not understand how that would benefit him. “Yes, but why? Aside from household duties, do not ladies wish for men to know everything else?”
“Oh, my lord.” Miss Chatham let out a thrill of laughter. “Is that what gentlemen really believe?”
That was obviously what he assumed. “I take it that I am incorrect.”
She nodded. “A lady like Lady Dorie will wish to be a true helpmate. If there is something she can do for you, I would encourage you to ask her.”
He was starting to understand where Miss Chatham was headed. “Especially if it took a long time?”
“Absolutely. The more time you can spend with her where you are not under the eyes of the ton the better.”
“What an excellent idea, Miss Chatham. I shall execute the plan immediately.” Or as soon as he thought of one.
“Well, perhaps not immediately.” She motioned with her chin. “She is currently driving with Lord Fotheringale.”
Glancing in the direction she had indicated, Alex narrowed his eyes. Damn Fotheringale. “Soon.”
Miss Chatham chattered about her home and how she was glad that she and Dursley had met when he was visiting his maternal grandparents one summer and not in Town where everyone watched what everyone else was doing.
It did remind him of being under a magnifying glass. “I can see how that would be helpful.” He remembered her mother’s disapproving look. “Is there some reason your mother does not approve of Dursley?”
“Mama thinks that he was just amusing himself. But she fails to remember that he started spending time at his grandparents’ home several years ago.” Miss Chatham pulled a face. “She is also not privy to how close we have become. Before he left, he convinced his older sister to—oh, not send his letters to me. That would be very improper, but she writes to me with what he says.” She frowned. “Although, I have not heard from her since I have been in Town, and in my last letter to her I told her we would be here for the Season.”
The letter writing was splitting hairs. Alex would not have approved of his sisters participating in that sort of scheme. “I think it is best that he come back to England soon.” Dursley must have had an itinerary. “Do you have any idea where he is now?”
The ringlets framing her face bounced as she nodded. “If he followed his plan, he will be in Toulouse.”
Alex would rather have more definite information than that. He knew Dursley’s father, the Earl of Banbury, was in Town and could be found at White’s much of the time. But did Alex want to approach him there? He’d ask his butler where the Banburys lived when here. Once he took Miss Chatham home, he drove back to Exeter House, ascertained the direction of Dursley’s father, and left again.
Alex was about to knock on the door to Banbury House in St. James Square when it opened and two ladies stood in the doorway.
The older of the two studied him briefly. “You are Exeter, are you not? If you are looking for my father, he is not home.”
“I am.” Alex bowed. “Actually, I am attempting to discover the whereabouts of Viscount Dursley.”
The lady glanced at her companion. “Anne, did you not recently receive a letter from him?”
“Yes.” The younger lady’s face flared a fiery red, and Alex could see she was still in the schoolroom. “He is in Lyon.”
So much for itineraries. “Do you know how long he will remain there or have an address for him?”
Anne appeared confused as to what to do, but her sister nudged her. “Go fetch it.”
“Thank you, my lady.”
“I am Lady Rochford and you are welcome. May I ask what this is about?”
He was unsure whether to mention Miss Chatham but decided that discretion was in order. “I would rather not say except that it is extremely important that I contact him.”
“Hmmm.” She gave him a piercing look. “I thought something was peculiar when I stopped receiving letters from a certain lady. Could it have to do with that?”
“It could.” When Lady Rochford said her sister Anne had received a letter from their brother, Alex had assumed the young lady had been the one with whom Miss Chatham had been corresponding, but she had said his older sister. “I was told the lady no longer received letters from you?”
“Yes. Anne is not yet out. And none of us would involve her in anything of a clandestine nature. She, though, is much better at keeping in touch with our brother than am I. I shall write to him and inform him he must come home as quickly as possible.”
With both he and Lady Rochford writing that would increase the chances Dursley received word to return to England.
Anne returned with the address written on a piece of foolscap. “Here you are, my lord.”
“Thank you, my lady.”
“Think nothing of it. I know my brother will be happy for your assistance,” Lady Rochford said. “Now, my sister and I must be off.”
Alex stepped back, allowing them to gain the pavement before returning to his curricle.
Now that he had the full story, a mission, and a possible solution to the problem of Lady Dorie Calthorp, Alex lost no time in returning home to start setting things to rights. This was the first time in weeks that he felt as if he knew what he was doing. He took out a piece of paper and wrote a letter to the Foreign Office telling them that the enclosed letter must reach Viscount Dursley urgently.
To Dursley Alex wrote:
My dear Dursley,
The last time we met I recall you mentioning a lady. If you do not wish to see her married off to Loathsome Lytton, you’d be well advised to come back to
England immediately.
Yr. servant,
Exeter
That should do it.
He sealed the letter, then wrapped the missive to the Foreign Secretary, the Marquis of Londonderry around it and sealed that. Alex stepped into his secretary’s office.
“Cunningham, normally I’d send a footman, but this correspondence is too important. I have addressed it to Londonderry, but if he is not available, it must be given to whoever can send it by the most expedient method possible to Viscount Dursley, who is visiting Lyon.”
Without questions or hesitation, Cunningham took the letter. “I shall see to it straightaway, my lord.”
“Thank you.” Alex went back into his study, read the latest letter from his head tenant at Longwood, and found the excuse he needed to approach Dorie for assistance. He just hoped it would take the time he required to deal with the problem.
* * * *
Sally Huntingdon was in her parlor in the process of going through recommendations for governesses for Penelope and Phillida Endicott while she waited for her daughter-in-law to arrive. Caro had sent a message that she would be late due to little Giles’s teething. Sally loved her grandson but was extremely happy that she was not responsible for the baby. That was, after all, the best part of being a grandparent.
A light tap sounded on the door and her husband, Hugh, strolled into the room, a concerned look on his still handsome face. They were fortunate that the years had been good to both of them. “Is it something with which I can assist you?”
He sank down next to her on the small sofa. “I’m not sure there is anything to be done except watch events unfold.”
Setting her book down, she poured him a cup of tea. “You might as well tell me. At least I shall be prepared.”
He raked his fingers through his blond hair, now lightly streaked with white. “I have received two offers for Dorie’s hand.”
That wasn’t unusual. He’d received more than that last year. “And?”
“One from Exeter.” Hugh frowned heavily. “He would be my choice for her, if it was up to me.”
“I agree.” Sally nodded. “I think them well matched.”
“The problem is that she does not.” He sipped his tea, then put it down and went over to the sideboard and poured a glass of wine. “Or she will not because she does not believe he can love her. Although, I don’t know why she’d think that.”
“I believe it has to do with the way Littleton rejected her.”
“I didn’t think it was a good match.” Hugh glanced at her. “Should I have done something?”
“No. You were correct in your thinking.” Sally leaned back against her cushions as she recalled the conversations she’d had with her daughter about Exeter and her reactions to him. “Hmmm. This is making much more sense.”
“What is?” Hugh sat on the sofa again and sipped the wine.
“Dorie asked me how I knew you were the right gentleman for me, and I told her you make my pulse race.”
A slow, sensuous smile dawned on Hugh’s face. “I do, don’t I.”
Remembering the first time he had kissed her, Sally met his look with a smile of her own. “After all these years, the feeling has not gone away.”
He slipped his arm around her and nibbled her jaw. “I agreed that she should have what we have and what we’ve encouraged our other children to have.”
Sally moved her head to give him better access, then sighed. If only her daughter-in-law was not arriving soon, she would lock the door. “I agree as well. I am waiting for Caro.” He sighed as she straightened and sipped her now cold tea. Claret would taste better. She took a drink of her husband’s wine. “Do you think he does love her?”
“I don’t know.” He handed her his goblet and went to the sideboard again. “I would like to give him time, but Fotheringale asked if he could court her. I told both of them not to mention their intentions to Dorie until I gave them an answer.”
Sally took a long drink of claret as she tried to imagine Dorie and Fotheringale. “That marriage would be doomed. Not only is he not up to her weight, but there would be a pitched battle between his mother and our daughter.”
Hugh leaned against the sideboard. “I know nothing of Lady Fotheringale, but I agree it would be a bad match.”
Ever since her husband’s death several years ago, the woman had pretended to be in a constant state of decline. “Naomi Fotheringale has kept her son dancing attendance on her for years by pretending to be in ill health. I would wager my diamonds she will refuse to move to the Dower House, and he would be accused of killing her if he disagrees. That means Dorie will be in constant conflict with the woman.”
“Ah.” Brows drawn down, Hugh slowly drank his wine. “What is to be done?”
An idea began to form in Sally’s mind. “I shall invite Fotheringale and his mother to dinner.” The more the scheme came to her the more she thought it would work. “Due to her supposed ill health, she will not agree, but she will want to assess this lady her son wishes to wed. Therefore, she will decline the invitation and invite us to dine with them.” She finished her wine. “Dorie is not at all stupid and will very quickly realize that this would be a hellish marriage.” Sally smiled to herself. “I shall, naturally, help Naomi show her true nature.”
Hugh smiled wickedly. “You are diabolical, my love.”
She gave him an arch look. “I prefer to think I am being guided by a higher authority rather than a lower one.” Sipping her claret, she tried to think of a better word and failed. “Unfortunately, all excellent schemes seem to be attributed to the wrong entity.”
A knock came on the door and Caro entered followed by Huntley carrying their son, who prompted demanded to be let down so he could walk unsteadily to Sally.
“We thought you’d want to see his progress.” Caro came over and bussed Sally’s cheek.
She helped little Giles climb into her lap. “Aren’t you clever?”
A gap-toothed grin met this question. “Gaga.”
Her daughter-in-law beamed. “He said grandmama!”
Huntley and her husband barked identical laughs.
“It is close enough,” Sally pronounced on her dignity. “I do not recall your first attempts being any better.”
Caro grinned. “It won’t be long now.”
“I say.” Hugh poured two more glasses of wine. “We’ve just been discussing the offers Dorie received. Exeter and Fotheringale.”
“Oh dear.” Caro accepted a glass of wine from Huntley and sank gracefully onto the other sofa.
“Fotheringale?” Huntley sputtered. “She’s much better off with Exeter.”
“Yes, but we must find a way to convince her of that,” Sally pointed out.
“Without putting up her back,” Caro added. “She will balk if any of us are too heavy-handed.”
“I don’t suppose you could have attempted to make her a bit more biddable?” Huntley sat next to his wife.
Sally came close to rolling her eyes. “That would have been far too exhausting.”
“Aside from that,” Hugh said. “We don’t have it nearly as bad as your maternal grandfather had it with his daughters.”
That was a fact. Sally had been the easiest one. Of her two sisters, Theo had insisted on marrying the younger son of a Scottish marquis and Horatia had created such a scandal that her father had married her off to a gentleman who promised to keep her overseas. Thankfully, they were both very happy now. Theo was still married to Lord Titus, and Horatia had remarried after her husband died to a man who encouraged her to be the woman she was meant to be.
Sally looked down her nose at her son. “I think it is perfectly proper for her to wish for a love match.”
Winding his arm around Caro, he grinned at her. “I cannot argue with that.”
“I am glad we all agree, b
ut what are you going to do about Fotheringale?” Caro wrinkled her nose. “Dorie favors him.”
“For now.” Sally finished her glass of wine. “I have a plan.” She told them about her idea for dinner.
Huntley sipped his wine, then said, “How are you going to throw Dorie at Exeter enough for her to see the advantages of him?”
Caro made a disgusted sound. “Throw her? She is not a ball. She must want to spend time with him, but not at entertainments. They do that now, and it is changing nothing.”
“But she does like helping people,” Hugh said thoughtfully. “You could involve her in the search for a governess.”
“No.” Sally shook her head. “She does not wish to be wanted because he requires a lady to raise his sisters. She would see it as me pushing her toward him, and I want her to continue to confide in me.” She had been bouncing little Giles on her knee, but he held out his arms to his grandfather.
Hugh took the baby. “Let’s give it some thought. I’m sure we can come up with an idea.” He grinned at Giles. “I need more grandchildren. Perhaps a girl would be nice.”
Sally cast her gaze at the ceiling. “We must have a wedding before she can give you a grandchild.”
Her husband gave her a scandalized look. “Of course we must, but you ladies will be in charge of that.” He glanced at Caro. “Aside from that, I already have a daughter-in-law.”
“You also have an elder daughter,” Sally reminded him.
“Yes, but I hardly ever get to see those grandchildren.” Hugh kissed his grandson. “More’s the pity.”
“I hope we come up with something soon.” Rising, she went to her writing table. “I shall invite Fotheringale and his mother to dine with us on Tuesday.” She glanced at her daughter-in-law. “There are no major events that evening, are there?”
“Not that I can think of.”
She quickly penned the invitation and called for a footman to take it to Fotheringale House as the others set about playing with Giles. As Caro and Huntley were preparing to return home, Sally received her answer. “Just as I predicted. We have been invited to dine with them next Wednesday. I do not suppose Dorie will be too upset at missing a night at Almack’s.”
