The Most Eligible Lord in London

by Ella Quinn

  “Nothin’ to,” Humphries assured her. “Jes’ tell him ta heel, and he’ll stay right by yer side.”

  “Maximus, heel.” Much to her surprise and pleasure, the dog straightened and stood by her side just as he was supposed to. “What a good boy you are.”

  By the time they reached the Park, Adeline had got used to having the Great Dane next to her. What would it be like to have one with her all the time? That reminded her of the carriage his owner was having built. “Will you like to ride in a curricle?”

  The footman barked a rough laugh. “There’s no swither he’ll like being with his lordship. The question is, what’ll happen when he sees somethin’ he wants.” Humphries looked around. “Ye might want me to take him, my lady. There’s plenty of squirrels hereabouts, and he’ll fair pull ye off yer feet if he decides to take off after one.”

  It didn’t take her long to work out why Maximus was so interested in the squirrels. Humphries whispered something in the dog’s ear, and his head perked up. As soon as a squirrel ran across the lawn, the footman dropped the lead, and the dog bounded after it.

  The smaller animal darted toward the nearest tree and dashed up it, stopping to chatter down at Maximus when he reached the first branch. “What will he do if he catches it?”

  “Ain’t no way he’s goin’ to catch that squirrel, or any other. He just likes to chase ’em.” Humphries rubbed his chin. “If he did catch one, he’d probably try to lick it.”

  “Because he would want to taste the squirrel?” She did not wish to see the poor little thing eaten alive.

  “Nah. To make sure it was all right. Ain’t no dog as gentle as him. He’s nothin’ more than a big baby.”

  Tail wagging, Maximus pranced back to them, looking like he was grinning and clearly expecting praise.

  “Did you make a good job of it?” Adeline stroked his head, as he wanted her to do. Then another squirrel appeared, and he was off again. “What do you do if there are small children around?”

  Humphries raised his hand to his head, seemed to realize that he wore a hat and a wig, then dropped the appendage. “Normally, we’re out too early for ’em. But if it did happen, I’d have to take him away. He’d try to lick the little ones, and the nursemaid’d go off screaming that the dog was tryin’ to eat her charge.” He shook his head dolefully. “Causes a lot o’ trouble, it does.”

  Adeline had never seen a footman act as Humphries did. “You’re not really a footman, are you?”

  “Me? Nah. I’m a groom.” He glanced down at his livery in disgust. “Problem is that none of these fine London footmen can handle Maximus. He plays his tricks on them and gets away. Thinks it a good joke to keep them running after him. It’s a game for him, ye see. I call it chase me, chase, ye fool, ye fool.” He sighed. “But her ladyship says that whoever walks him has to be in livery. So, here I am.”

  “I’m surprised that Lord Littleton doesn’t countermand her.” Humphries narrowed one eye, and she realized that he might not know the word. “That he does not tell her he is in charge.”

  The servant brightened with comprehension. “Not a chance. Littleton men are smarter than that, my lady. Unlike some I could tell ye about,” Humphries said darkly, and Adeline wondered to whom he was referring. “They know keepin’ their women happy is what keeps a man happy. That’s what the old lord used to say. ’Course ye’ve got ta marry the right woman in the first place.”

  That was a very forward way of thinking. “His lordship’s father?”

  “Nah, my lady. His grandsire. Me da says it’s been said as long as the Littletons have been around.”

  Maximus came back again, and Humphries decreed it was time to return to their respective homes. Once again, she was handed the lead.

  Having warmed to the subject of the family, his tongue ran on fiddlesticks. “Take last year. We went home real fast-like after his lordship almost made a terrible wilsomeness about a lady”—she’d never heard of the word, but imagined it meant a mistake where he was from—“Nothin’ against her. I saw her a few times. Right pretty she was, and a real high lady”—he glanced at Adeline—“not that you ain’t. Yer just as fine as she was. Meybe even better.”

  “No offense taken,” she assured him, wanting Humphries to continue.

  He looked at her again, as if to assure himself that he hadn’t insulted her and nodded. “She weren’t the right one for a Littleton man. I coulda told him that. But a man’s got ta find out on his own.”

  Adeline’s pulse quickened. Was she about to learn the whole story about what had happened between Lord Littleton and Dorie from his lordship’s point of view? “Why was that?”

  Humphries looked pointedly at the dog. “Well, for one thing, she was never interested in Max, here. And every time his lordship started telling her about the estate, she’d talk about somethin’ happening in the Lords.” That sounded exactly like Dorie. “She made sure he knew she liked it here in London, a lot. Talked about how her da and ma spent most a their time in Town, and she wanted that too. Always tryin’ ta get him to those parties where they talk politics, and askin’ him what happened at the Lords that day. Not that his lordship knew.” Humphries tapped his nose. “I heard it all sitting on the back of the curricle, so’s if she wanted to get down and walk, his lordship didn’t have ta worry about the horses.” They rounded the corner into the square. “If you ask me, he shoulda paid more mind to what she was saying early on. Took him too long to make out that she weren’t the right lid for his pot.”

  Adeline held back her laughter. What a way to put it. “Thank you, Humphries.”

  Again, he reached up for his cap before remembering to bow. Poor man. “Will we see ye tomorrow, my lady?”

  “You will. I had an excellent time walking with you and Maximus.” Until then, Adeline had a great deal of thinking to do. Fortunately, she was going shopping with her friends today. Perhaps she could discover more about Littleton and Dorie’s ill-fated courtship. Adeline wanted to feel at least a little better about liking him. Not that he could ever be anything more than an acquaintance. But maybe what he had done was not all that bad. If Dorie had not been in love with him . . . Adeline stifled a sigh and wished he was not as charming as he was handsome.

  Chapter Fifteen

  A few days later, Frits lounged in a chair and stared at his wine. He’d only ordered it because it was too early for brandy, and one did not drink ale at Brooks’s. He was certain that Max would bring her closer to him, but that plan had failed. Not only that, she was spending too much time with Anglesey. She had even danced the supper set with him last night. Frits needed to decide how to proceed with Adeline.

  When Humphries had returned from the walk the first day, he’d told Frits how well she’d handled Maximus this morning. He wished he’d been there to see her. Unfortunately, he didn’t see how her walking his dog, and going for carriage rides with him, or even standing up with her for one, and only one, set at every ball was helping her form an attachment to him.

  “Mind if I join you?” Exeter asked.

  Frits pushed out a chair with his foot. “Not at all.”

  Exeter hailed a waiter and pointed to the bottle of claret on the table. “I wasn’t sure. You look to be in a brown study.”

  “I’m trying to figure out how to get a lady to trust me.” Yet again, Frits considered how different Adeline was from the other ladies he’d known. She was special, and she affected him in ways no woman ever before had. He knew deep in his bones that he needed her in his life. The problem, the only problem as far as he could see, was that he had made a mull of it with Lady Dorie last year.

  “I know the feeling.” Exeter poured a glass of claret from the open bottle. “Sometimes I feel as if I’m treading water and I’ve forgotten how to swim to shore.”

  Sitting up, Frits looked at his friend. “It is exactly like that. In fact, I’ve had almost the exact same thought.” He took a drink from his as-yet-untouched glass. “The question is what to do about
it.”

  His friend had been drumming his fingers on the table, but stopped. “If there was some daring deed I could perform to prove to her I care about her . . .”

  “I’m afraid the days of knights rescuing damsels in distress are just about over.” As were the days of riding into castles and carrying ladies away. Although Adeline probably wouldn’t like that anymore than his several-times-over great-grandmother had. Frits had to stop thinking about that. He tossed off the rest of the glass and poured another. Remembering that Carter-Woods had saved Lady Augusta from that idiot Lord Lancelot, and she’d still left for Europe. Frits grinned. “Sometimes it doesn’t work even when one does save a lady.”

  “Pity.” Exeter poured another glass as well. Fortunately, the next bottle had arrived. “I wanted ale, but when I went to The Bunch of Grapes the barmaids started to flirt, so I left.”

  Frits cracked a laugh. “I did the same thing. I hope someone takes them up on their offers. I don’t want them to feel bad.”

  “It’s strange”—Exeter gazed into the goblet—“how when you only want one woman, no one else will do.”

  “I knew it would happen eventually. I actually thought I was prepared.” Frits drank more of the wine. “But I wasn’t.”

  “I don’t know how any man could be,” Exeter mused. “I wouldn’t have believed it if I’d been told.” Glancing up, he frowned. “How did you know?”

  “My father and grandfather both told me. Littleton men don’t go down easily. It goes back centuries.” Frits couldn’t stop a sigh from escaping. He was glad only his friend was there to hear it. “After learning how all their struggles to avoid falling in love had failed, I decided to just fall on my sword.”

  “I take it that plan didn’t work?”

  “No. I let”—he was about to say “lust,” but considering Exeter was trying to court Lady Dorie, he probably wouldn’t take that very well—“attraction get in the way of good sense.”

  “She is beautiful, isn’t she?” The man had a moonstruck look on his face.

  “She is, but what is more important is that you want the same things in life.” Exeter glanced at Frits as if he did not understand. “You want to be involved in politics, and she wants to be a political hostess. And your political views are the same. That sort of thing.”

  Exeter smiled proudly, as if the lady was already his. “I could see her having Whig parties even if I had not decided to switch parties.”

  “That would have been interesting,” Frits muttered to himself. “Fortunately, you have no need to worry about it.”

  “I thought all of Lady Dorie’s friends were interested in being politically involved.”

  He shook his head. “Not Lady Adeline.” And thank the Lord for that piece of luck. The way he was starting to feel about her, he didn’t think she would be nearly as easy to give up as Lady Dorie had been. And he had no intention of running away from her. “She prefers the country.” And liked stories about pigs and walking his dog. “If only I—never mind.” He’d drive himself mad if he continued to focus on his mistakes. What he needed was a plan. One that was actually feasible. “What are you going to do about Lady Dorie?”

  Exeter leaned forward. “There is a matter with which she can help me, and I am going to use that time to . . . well, not seduce her, as we will be in her family’s house and chaperoned, but make her more aware of me.”

  “In other words, spend more time with her, but not in the Park, where most of the ton is.” Exeter nodded, and Frits was reminded that he needed to ask his mother to plan an outing at Vauxhall. “An excellent idea.”

  “I did try to convince her father to arrange a match, but he refused.”

  Frits covered his mouth so that his laughter wouldn’t be heard all over the club. “I cannot imagine what would happen if anyone attempted to force Lady Dorie into a marriage she did not want. I’m quite sure for all Lady Adeline’s gentle ways, she would be as stubborn as a goat about it.” He drained his glass. “By the way, when is Dursley due back?”

  Exeter was helping Miss Chatham avoid Lytton until the gentleman she wanted to marry, Lord Dursley, returned to England. Exeter scowled. “Not soon enough, which is making my problem with Lady Dorie all the more difficult.”

  “Perhaps not.” Frits recalled how he’d helped Elizabeth Harrington and her husband before they married. “Sometimes it takes another person’s interest to spark a flame that was banked.”

  “I hope you’re right.” They stood at the same time. “I have a carriage ride for which to prepare.”

  “As do I.” And another visit to Gunter’s. Maybe ices were the path to Adeline’s heart.

  Then what Exeter had said struck Frits. So far, he had been lucky that he and Adeline, except for one time, had not been in the Park when Lady Dorie was there. “What time are you going?”

  “Five o’clock. Why”—Exeter glanced at his pocket watch—“Damn. I can’t be late. You know how she is about punctuality.”

  “I’ll try to think of something.” Ices before the ride might work. Yet the best thing was to take her somewhere else.

  “Good luck,” Exeter said in a heartfelt tone as they reached Piccadilly to proceed in separate directions.

  “Thank you,” Frits answered. “I just need to think.” Although, he hadn’t had much success with that.

  By the time he reached his house, he’d come up with an idea. He’d received the plan for his new curricle several days ago, and he was overdue for a trip to the carriage maker. Perhaps Adeline would like to come with him. But first he’d ask his mother if there was anything improper with his scheme.

  “Creswell.” Frits handed his hat, cane, and gloves to his butler. “Is her ladyship in?”

  “She returned a few minutes ago, my lord. I believe she is in the morning room.”

  Frits headed to the back of the house. His mother was seated at a small cherrywood table, writing. “Mama?”

  “Give me a moment.” She sanded the paper and sealed it. “What can I do for you?”

  “First, tell me if there is any impropriety in my taking Lady Adeline to the carriage maker in Long Acre instead of the Park, and second, tell me if you can arrange a party to Vauxhall.”

  She pursed her lips in thought, then shook her head. “I cannot think of anything wrong with a trip to Long Acre, provided she agrees to go. As for Vauxhall, I believe that would be a splendid idea. I shall look into booking a box early next week.”

  “Before her come out ball?”

  “Yes. Her mother thinks she is nervous about it. This and the theater will be just what is needed to take her mind off the ball.”

  Frits didn’t like the sound of that. He did not want her to be worried about anything. “I didn’t know Lady Adeline was concerned about it.”

  Mama lifted one shoulder. “It is probably only normal apprehension. Still, the theater and Vauxhall will be pleasant diversions.”

  He hoped that was all it was. “What sorts of things could disquiet her?”

  “Oh.” She blinked, as if surprised by the question. “Any number of things. Who will lead her out for her first dance, for example.”

  “Who would normally lead her out?” He didn’t think she would accept his offer to do it. Aside from that, he wanted the supper dance. That would give him more time with her.

  “Most likely her father or brother.”

  If that was what usually occurred, he didn’t understand why Lady Adeline should be concerned about it. Then again, it was only his mother’s speculation. He’d ask her this afternoon, if all went well. “Thank you for your help.”

  “Anytime, dear.”

  All he had to do now was find the right way to ask her if she would like to see how his new curricle was progressing. And pray. He’d been doing a lot of that lately.

  * * *

  Adeline rode with Georgie in her family’s town coach to meet Augusta, Henrietta, and Dorie at Hatchards. That was their favorite starting place for a shopping trip. T
he carriages would wait until they had selected their books, take the tomes to their respective houses, and meet them at Pantheon Bazaar.

  She had started to greet her friends when Dorie said to Henrietta, “I would like it if I could walk with you and Augusta today, but I am committed to drive with Exeter.”

  The blood rushed to Adeline’s feet, and she wished she had not agreed to go for a carriage ride with Littleton. Was there another place they could go? Perhaps he would agree to a ride in Green Park. Unfortunately, she did not even know if one did ride in Green Park. The only thing she knew about the place was that they had cows and one could purchase cups of fresh milk there.

  Georgie linked arms with Adeline, tugging her into the store. Her mind had gone almost totally blank, and she had forgotten she was standing on the pavement. If she had not already ordered the books she wanted, she was certain she would not have remembered which ones she wanted.

  “I gather you are promised to ride with Lord Littleton today?” Georgie whispered.

  “Yes.” Adeline’s throat was so tight, she could barely get the word out.

  “It is not the end of the world.”

  “Can one go for a carriage ride in Green Park?” She kept her tone low so that no one else could hear them.

  “I do not believe so. It would disturb the people strolling in the park.”

  Well, drat. “I could become ill.”

  “Then you would not be able to attend Henrietta’s come out ball this evening.”

  “That’s tonight?” How could Adeline have forgotten?

  Raising her brows, Georgie nodded.

  “I shall have to think of something else.” If only Anglesey had asked her for a carriage ride today before Littleton did. But he seemed to have become more beforehand in his invitations. Or perhaps Lord Anglesey was tardy in his requests.

  “I am sure all will be well.” Georgie smiled. “Come; my sister-in-law asked if I could find a book on roses for her. I think they are upstairs in the back.”