by Ella Quinn
“Thank you. I’ll do that.” Exeter had been sitting forward slightly but now leaned back against the seat. “I believe our turn is coming up.”
“It is. Thank you.” She had not needed to be told, but it was the first time he had given her directions, and could, therefore, be forgiven. In her experience gentlemen were all to ready to give advice whether it was wanted or not.
She made the turn and pulled up in front of the famous jewelers. “Dodson,” she called to her groom. “Walk the horses. I do not know how long we will be.”
“Yes, my lady.”
As he ran to their heads, Exeter came around to help her down. However, instead of holding out his hand, he reached up and clasped his hands around her waist, lifted her slightly, and lowered her to the ground. Goodness. Again her heart started beating faster than she liked. Even worse than this morning. Still, she had no idea a gentleman could do that. Not from a high-perched phaeton! Taking a breath, she placed her hand on his arm and they strolled into the shop.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Alex was extremely pleased with the way the conversation with Dorie had gone. And the way she reacted to his touch. Maybe now the love of his life would stop introducing him to other ladies. This was the third one he had found a major fault in—at least to her way of thinking—and his only problem now was to discover why she was so resistant to him. He’d been concerned that she thought he’d marry Miss Chatham, but if that was the case she wouldn’t be trying to find him another lady. If she had thought that, it would set him back in his campaign to convince her to allow him to court her. Her parents had encouraged him, but as her father had said, Dorie must choose for herself. And now that Alex knew how he felt, he had to agree. Earlier, he’d been hard-pressed not to take her into his arms and kiss her; then they’d started on accounting. That would kill anyone’s lust. He was just glad that Lord Huntingdon was treating Alex’s offer like a closely held secret.
“Would you mind if I speak with whoever is in charge today alone?” When she gave him a startled look he quickly amended his request. “At first. Naturally, I shall want your opinion if he has a bookkeeper available.”
“Yes, of course. I shall look at some of the jewelry they have.” A smile appeared on her lips, but Alex wasn’t convinced it was sincere. For some reason, he did not think jewelry would hold her attention for long.
“Thank you.” He gave her what he hoped was a boyish grin. “I’ll come for you as soon as I know what is what.”
Her lips relaxed into a genuine smile. “Thank you.”
He opened the door to the shop and followed her in. There were two ladies at the end of the shop looking at something a clerk was holding.
Another clerk came up immediately. “May I help you?”
“I am Exeter. Lady Dorie Calthorp and I would like to speak with the manager.” There was no way Alex was going to disclose what he wanted to a clerk.
“Of course, my lord. Mr. Rundell is in today. If you will have a seat”—the man waved rather grandly to a pair of chairs—“I will inform him of your visit.”
“Thank you.” Alex waited until Dorie gracefully perched on the edge of the chair before lowering himself into the other one.
To Alex’s amusement, the clerk snapped his fingers at a younger man standing nearby. “Tea for our guests.”
Dorie leaned over to him. “I have never been offered tea before.”
He vowed that her wedding gift would be bought here. “I’ve never even been here before.”
“Harrumph.” She crossed her arms, plumping up her enticing breasts, then uncrossed them and placed her hands demurely in her lap. Then she looked at him and shook her head. “I thought you wanted to speak with him alone?”
“I did, but it occurred to me that it was your idea.” Not to mention that he’d named her and she could not remain in the showroom by herself. Two more people entered the store; this time it was a man and a woman.
They had not finished their tea when a man above medium height came out to greet them. “My lord, my lady, I am Mr. Rundell. How may I assist you?”
“If we could speak privately?” Alex asked.
“Of course.” The man led them into a room papered in silk, the walls displaying several paintings. On the floor an Aubusson carpet muffled their footsteps.
They sat in two chairs while Mr. Rundell took his seat behind a large walnut desk with a burl top. Alex decided to approach the business directly. “I am looking for an honest bookkeeper, and I immediately thought of you.”
“A bookkeeper.” The man could not hide his surprise. “I have never been asked for that before.”
“Nevertheless.” Dorie raised her chin and one brow. Her voice was as commanding as her mother’s. “That is what we require at the moment.”
He was glad he’d brought her with him.
“I am happy to say I can be of help. I have a young man here who deserves more responsibility. He is the nephew of one of my long-term bookkeepers and has been well trained. He is also one of the most honest men I have ever met.”
“May we interview him?” Alex hoped that his luck in hiring the first person he talked to would hold.
“Naturally, I must ask him if he is interested in the position…”
When Rundell stopped, Alex said, “He would be in charge of all the marquisate’s accounts.”
The man bowed. “Please excuse me for a moment.”
“We should go somewhere else for the other bookkeeper,” Dorie whispered.
“Possibly a bank?” Alex could deal with that.
“An excellent idea.” Her hand moved toward his, but before she touched him she placed it back in her lap.
That was the closest she had come to touching him when it wasn’t necessary.
“My lord, my lady.” Rundell came back into the room followed by a man who looked to be in his late twenties. “May I introduce Mr. Robbins?”
Alex and Dorie both inclined their heads and he said, “A pleasure, Mr. Robbins.”
“Likewise.” The man bowed. “I am aware of the great honor in being recommended for the position”—he was going to turn them down—“I just have a few questions.”
Thank the Fates! “Naturally.”
Robbins asked about the scope of the position, how many estates there were, whom he would be overseeing, if anyone, and to whom he would report. When told he’d work directly for Alex, the man nodded. “In that case, I will need to give notice here.” He glanced at Rundell.
“You will be difficult to replace, but I believe his lordship requires you sooner rather than later.” Rundell looked at Alex. “Would one week suffice?”
“It would.” He stood and to Robbins’s shock, shook his hand. “I look forward to your arrival.”
“As do I, my lord.” He bowed. “My lady. I look forward to working for you.”
It struck Alex that his new bookkeeper obviously thought Dorie would shortly be Alex’s wife. Yet if she thought there was anything odd about the man’s statement, nothing in her reaction betrayed it.
By the time they reentered the shop, several more customers had entered, a few of them looked directly at him and Dorie, and one woman whispered to her friend. But, again, she didn’t appear to realize that there were those who thought they would soon marry. Alex held back a laugh. If this got out, the ton wouldn’t know if it was coming or going. According to his friends, and the lady’s brother, wagering in the clubs was heavily on Miss Chatham. Little did they know that the second Dursley arrived, Miss Chatham would belong to another gentleman.
Alex held his arm out to Dorie, and decided to fan the fires. “Would you like to look at the jewelry now?”
“Yes.” She glanced at him with a broad smile on her enticing lips. “I would love to.”
“Come then. We can both see what is available.” He, though, would pay close
attention to what Dorie liked.
“That went well.” She spoke in a low voice.
“Yes, it did. Thanks to you and your clever idea.” He could not have done it without her. But how do I convince her we are the perfect pair? That she is the only lady for me?
A merry look sparkled in her hazel eyes. “What a lovely compliment, my lord.”
Alex guided her over to the glass-topped counters displaying an almost endless array of gems, settings, and finished jewelry. “I would like to buy something for you.”
She looked at him like he had run mad. “You should know that you cannot.”
He did know the rules, but …Dorie wandered to the counter of necklaces. “Do you like any of them?”
“My lord!” She glared at him. “If you must give me something promise me that you will marry because you want to, not because you think you have to.”
Gazing into her green-flecked amber eyes, he almost smiled at the frustration there. “I shall give you my word that I will marry the woman with whom I wish to spend the rest of my life.”
Dorie’s breath caught as Exeter’s green eyes darkened as he stared down at her, capturing her eyes with his and refusing to let go. For a moment, she could believe he cared about her, then the door opened and several ladies walked in, breaking the spell. “Thank you.” One of the women glanced at them. Good Lord! What will people think? She surreptitiously glanced at the crowded showroom. Two ladies had smug smiles on their faces, and she knew exactly what they thought. In less than a day it would be all around that she and Exeter were betrothed. This was not good. “We should go.”
Instead of lifting her into the phaeton, he very properly handed her in. She tried not to miss the feel of his hands on her waist, but it was no use. She did miss it. Tears pricked her eyes as she realized this would be their last morning together. He knew all she could teach him.
“I have had my secretary write to each of my estates and request reports. I would appreciate it if you could look at the information with me when it arrives.”
Dorie grabbed on to the thin thread he offered. “I would be happy to.”
He nodded. “After the Season, I must visit them.” She had to stop due to two slow-moving drays. “I believe I’ll go without giving them notice.”
What a horrible idea. “I cannot recommend you do that. It will upset your servants.”
“But if I tell them I am coming, I won’t be able to get a good idea of the true state of the property.”
“Hmmm. There must be another way. Have you ever been to any of your estates other than your seat?”
“Only the one in Suffolk.” He glanced at her at the same time she looked at him. Dorie felt as if she had been caught staring at him and focused on the wagons in front of them. “But one cannot properly call that an estate. It is a minor property with just a few tenants. The house, though, is wonderful. It is situated a few miles from Great Yarmouth and has a view over the North Sea.” He was silent for a few moments. “We spent a month there each summer when I was young. Before Phillida was born.”
Dorie wondered what had happed to change their habit. “It sounds lovely.”
“It is, or was. I hope it has not been allowed to deteriorate. Properties by the sea require a great deal of upkeep.”
“True.” She loved houses by the sea. “Huntley and Caro’s property is also in Suffolk, but much farther down the coast. He complains frequently about the maintenance.”
“Perhaps I shall go there first.” Exeter’s finely molded lips quirked up.
“I suppose this is our last day of lessons.” She might as well broach the subject now and get it out of the way.
“It can’t be. What I mean is I still have questions. A list of them. To tie everything together.” He was silent as she drove through a narrow space between two coaches going in opposite directions who had decided stop and converse. “And I’ve received another letter from Hatcher.”
Of course. She should have thought of that. “You must do something about him. He will be the bane of your existence if you do not.”
“What I need is to visit Longwood and hire a steward. Not in that order.” She glanced at him as he slid her a sidelong look. “I could use help with that as well.”
“Regarding Hatcher I might be able to assist you. I am afraid my father will have to help find an estate manager.” She pulled up in front of her town house. “I shall see you in the morning.”
Exeter jumped down and before one of the footmen or her groom could get to her, he clasped his large, warm hands around her waist and lifted her down. This time the tingling spread all over her, and Dorie didn’t want him to let go. Worse, she wanted to wrap her arms around him and hold him. What was happening to her?
Exeter released her and offered his arm. “I look forward to our session tomorrow.”
Gingerly, she placed her fingers on his arm and the sensations increased. She must simply refuse to respond. “I as well.”
When they reached the door, he took her hand and kissed it, and she wanted to leap out of her skin. Why was her body not listening? This had to cease. “Until tomorrow.”
“Until then.” He gave a lopsided smile that made her want to melt.
Why did these feelings not occur when Fotheringale touched her? Although, granted he had never touched her as Exeter did. Dorie had put her hand on Fotheringale’s arm, and she had danced with him. There should be some sort of feeling. She had heard it said that it was just as easy to fall in love with a rich man as a poor one. If that was the case, why would it not be equally true that one could choose to fall in love with one particular gentleman over another? She had already decided that she would choose which gentleman she wished. She should be feeling those tingles with Fotheringale. Though to be fair, she was still rather put out with him. But she had not experienced them at all with him. Even before the incident on the river. Dorie was almost certain that what she was experiencing with Exeter was what her mother and Louisa had mentioned. Dorie could not understand what was wrong. Or why her flesh had decided it liked him better than Fotheringale. There was obviously some sort of failure between her physical being and her mind. The difficulty was she did not know what to do about it or how to fix the problem.
“My lady,” Curran said in an insistent tone.
Was something the matter? “What is it?”
“You seemed to be in a trance. I called to you several times.” Curran peered at Dorie as if attempting to discern what had caused her not to respond immediately.
Her friend Augusta did this sort of thing all the time, but Dorie never had. “I was merely attempting to solve a problem.”
“Very well, my lady.” Her maid went to the clothing press. “Your mother wished me to remind you that you are dining with Lord Fotheringale and his mother this evening. Which gown would you like to wear?”
Good heavens. She had forgotten all about that. At least it would give her another opportunity to see if she could feel for him what she did with Exeter. Perhaps if she was in a smaller setting with Fotheringale it would be different. After all, she had spent much more time almost alone with Exeter than she had with the gentleman she thought she wished to marry. That must be the reason her body was not listening to her mind.
“My lady?”
Drat, she’d done it again. “Right. The gown. Select whichever one you think is best.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Alex grinned to himself and his steps were lighter as he strolled back to his town house. Dorie had definitely reacted to him. Now all he had to do was convince her he loved her and she could love him.
Except for the problem of Miss Chatham.
That must be resolved before he could declare himself to Dorie.
He heard piano music as he walked to his study. A jarring note sounded, telling him it was Phillida not Penelope who was playing. Miss Holl
iwell had been a godsend. Or a gift from Dorie. When he had thanked her mother the other evening, Lady Huntingdon had told him it was her daughter’s suggestion. She would have recommended the older governess, but saw the wisdom in Dorie’s argument. He did enjoy arguing with her. As well as talking with her, watching her, dancing with her. What he really wanted to do was kiss her and make her fall apart in his arms.
“My lord?”
Alex glanced up. He hadn’t even greeted his secretary. “Cunningham, I want you to write all my estates and ask for reports regarding the state of the houses and properties as well as anything else you think necessary.” It occurred to him that he didn’t know how many servants and tenants he had at his other estates. “Do we have a list of servants and how many tenants are at the other properties?”
“My lord.” He peered at Alex as if something was not quite right. “I have done all of that and we received the answers. As soon as you wish, I can compile an account.” He wrote something down, then looked up at Alex.
“Ah, yes. Right. Of course you did. Thank you.” Cunningham was still waiting for something. “Do you know yet where Lady Dorie will be this evening?” Most likely Almack’s. It was Wednesday.
His secretary grimaced. “They are dining at Fotheringale House.”
Damn and blast! His hands clenched into fists. Every muscle in Alex’s body wanted to damage something. He didn’t want her spending any more time with the blasted fool. “Thank you. I shall be at Jackson’s.”
“Yes, my lord.” Cunningham turned back to his desk and picked up a piece of paper. “You might want to know the names of the young gentlemen racing on the river. Lady Huntingdon asks if you would like to accompany her when she visits their parents.”
That sounded better than Jackson’s. He might not be able to pound on them, but it would help disperse some of frustration. “I would. When does she wish to depart?”
