The Most Eligible Lord in London

by Ella Quinn

  “I saw Miss Hanson and Miss Tice, and I decided I was safer in your company.” She half-expected he was joking, but the dimple did not appear in the strong, lean planes of his face, and his eyes were not twinkling.

  “I see.” She let him take her hand and kiss it. His lips touched the thin kid of her gloves, and she could have sworn they burned through to her skin. Why did he affect her like this? “Were you able to find another gentleman for Miss Tice?”

  The dimple came out as the corners of his lips rose. “I did. I found two. One to the north of Turner’s estate and one to the west. But only Mr. Fitzwalter is in Town. He is the heir to Lord Fitzwalter.”

  Adeline had never heard of the man, but that did not mean much. “Is he here this evening?”

  “At this ball?” Lord Littleton shook his head and appeared regretful. “No. Although I have it on good authority that he will be at Lady Wall’s entertainment.”

  “Let us hope he and Miss Tice take a liking to each other.” Then Adeline would only have to worry about Miss Hanson.

  “I’m not at all sure it matters to Miss Tice who she weds.” His voice was drier than dust. “As long she resides close to her friend.”

  “I believe you are correct.” Adeline felt her nose wrinkling and rubbed it. “Still, one can be optimistic about the matter. After all, she will have to live with whoever she marries and not Miss Martindale.”

  “Well said,” Lord Littleton drawled. “If only he’d done something horrible to me, I wouldn’t feel bad at all about sacrificing him. But needs must, and it will not hurt him to attend a few”—he seemed at a loss for words—“more sedate entertainments.”

  “Now we just have to find someone for Miss Hanson.” Adeline thought back, trying to remember with whom the lady had recently danced. One gentleman stood out, but she did not think she could recommend him even to a lady as coldhearted as Miss Hanson. Oh, well. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. “What do you think of Lord Lytton?”

  “Not much.” The distain on Littleton’s face took her aback. “Aside from that, he’d never marry the daughter of a Cit.”

  “Are you certain?” Many gentlemen felt the same, but it did not make sense. “He has danced with her more than once.” Unlike ladies, gentlemen did not have to dance with a lady.

  He shook his head. “I don’t know why he has, but he is too puffed up in his own consequence to marry her.”

  “Well, bother.” Adeline scanned the room for other likely prospects. “We will have to think of someone else.”

  “I have no doubt her father wants to buy her a title. From what I understand, he was surprised that when he married so far above his station it did not provide him the entrance into Polite Society he wanted.”

  “I do not understand why he thought it would.” That was it. Adeline was going to stop trying to make sense of what people did. “Was she ostracized?” That is what usually happened when the daughter of a peer married out of her social class.

  “No. Her father didn’t have a feather to fly with, and she did not take during her two Seasons, as her family wished. I don’t know exactly how the marriage was arranged, but I believe it had something to do with a friend of the earl’s who knew Hanson. To make a long story short, they wed, and her family benefited greatly. Lady Cornelia’s younger sisters were able to marry well, and esteemed her for their good fortune. Despite everything, the marriage turned out well. Miss Hanson is a considerable heiress as well, having a large dowry.”

  That explained why the lady was accepted by Polite Society. Not for her money, of course, but her family connections. But what a font of information Littleton was. “How do you know all this?”

  His eyes twinkled and he grinned. “My mother.”

  “How very helpful.” He placed Adeline’s hand on his arm and moved her a little away from her circle . . . actually, their circle. He knew and was accepted by all the gentlemen. “My mother could recite the history of a bill being presented to the Lords, but has no real interest in other matters.” Such as marital prospects. Though Mama would discover all she needed to know if anyone asked for Adeline’s hand.

  “It is satisfying to be able to have one’s questions answered.” He’d moved closer to her, and warmth radiated from his large body. “My interest in bloodlines and other matters tend to be limited to animal husbandry.”

  “I find the subject of”—the pulse at the base of Adeline’s throat beat a rapid tattoo, and a charming blush rose in her cheeks—“things to do with plants and animals interesting.”

  He’d ask her to take a stroll with him, but Turley had heard what her brother said to Anglesey. Still, what Frits was about to do would get him in even more trouble if he was discovered. “I probably shouldn’t mention it to you, but I’ve had an offer to breed my Holsteins with a bull from a breed called Friesland out of the Netherlands. The man wants to see if they will produce more milk.”

  Adeline’s neck was long and graceful, and he loved watching it move as she swallowed. “I have not . . . not been encouraged to learn about breeding”—her chest and face became bright rose—“er . . . animals.”

  Or anything else, he’d wager.

  “What the deuce are you discussing?” Wivenly sounded as if he’d like to strangle Frits.

  “Cows.” He and Adeline answered immediately and at the same time.

  “Just cows.” Her tone was soft as she peeked up at him from beneath thick brown lashes.

  Wivenly had a totally incredulous look on his face as he addressed his sister. “Cows?”

  She nodded.

  He fixed his quizzer on Frits. “Cows?”

  “Yes.” Frits knew his innocent look, which got him out of so much trouble, would not work on her brother, so he tried to look businesslike. “Holsteins and a breed called Friesland.”

  Wivenly narrowed his eyes, much like his sister did, but it looked odd through the quizzing glass. “I do not understand why that would make my sister blush like a red rose.”

  “Oh, that had nothing to do with the cows.” Adeline coughed for good measure. “I–I had something caught in my throat, and had trouble catching my breath.” She was a terrible liar.

  Wivenly lowered his quizzer and his brows. “Find something else to discuss.” Then went back to his wife.

  “Oh, dear.” She started to laugh and quickly covered her mouth. “Perhaps we should move on to pigs.”

  Frits couldn’t help it. He barked a laugh so loud that the people near them turned to stare. “Now I’ve done it.”

  Adeline’s shoulders were shaking, her hand was still firmly over her mouth, and she gazed at him, her eyes bright with tears and laughter.

  He strove to bring himself under control, but tears started in his eyes as well. “I don’t doubt my mother will hear about it with her morning tea.”

  She sucked in a large breath and hiccupped. “I cannot stop laughing.”

  “Adeline.” Lady Wivenly cupped Adeline’s elbow. “I believe we should go outside for a few moments. The fresh air will be good for you.”

  Wivenly stood behind his wife. “Cows again?”

  “N-n-n-ooo.” Adeline shook her head. “P-p-pigs.”

  “I’d no idea you had such a strange sense of humor.” He turned to his wife. “See if you can calm her down. Her next dance partner will be here soon.”

  Frits turned to follow her and her sister-in-law, but Wivenly latched onto Frits’s arm. “You remain here.” Her brother closed his eyes as if he were in pain. “I suppose you expect me to believe you were merely discussing farm animals.”

  He was not about to betray Adeline’s trust. “We both like animals.”

  “I think the two of you have lost your minds.” Fortunately, the words were not forcefully said. “She hasn’t laughed like that since she arrived in Town.”

  Neither had he, and it felt good. “I shall strive to keep farm talk out of the ballroom.” From the corner of his eye, he saw his hostess in full sail, heading straight at him. “Ple
ase tell Lady Adeline that I’ll be back soon.”

  Frits glanced around and found Turley standing nearby, talking to a young lady. “Excuse me.” Frits took his friend’s arm. “I must speak with Turley. I’ll return him when I’m done.”

  “What the devil are you doing?” Turley said in a harsh whisper. “I was just making some progress.”

  “Miss Tice is trying to have me dance with her. I need to hide.”

  “Oh, now I understand.” He looked confused. “Where shall we go?”

  “Here.” Frits ducked behind a door and almost ran into a footman, and held out a hand to steady the man. “Excuse me. Is there a parlor that leads off this corridor?”

  “Three doors down.”

  Dragging Turley with him, Frits followed the servant’s directions. Once they were in the room with the door closed, he said, “Both Miss Tice and Miss Hanson are attempting to force me to marry them. So far, I have been successful in not being presented to Miss Hanson and avoiding a hostess asking me to dance with Miss Tice.”

  Turley clutched his belly and laughed.

  “I do not see what is so funny about any of this.” Frits glanced around the room for a decanter of wine or brandy and found nothing. “And stop laughing so loudly. Someone will hear you and come in.”

  “No need to worry.” Turley smirked. “Like a knight of old, I shall protect you.”

  “Stubble it.” The situation was not at all amusing. Frits wanted to wed Adeline, not some other lady.

  “If you do not require my assistance, I’ll go.” His friend turned toward the door.

  “No!” Frits grabbed Turley’s arm again. “I have to find a way to go back into the ballroom to be with Adeline.”

  “Adeline?” His eyes widened as his brows inched up his forehead.

  “Lady Adeline.” Damn, Frits had known he’d slip up sooner or later. At least he hadn’t done it when her brother was around. That would have been disastrous. “I can’t help thinking of her like that. It’s a pretty name.” And he felt closer to her when he used it. And that was the lamest excuse he’d ever made.

  Turley rolled his eyes. “I suppose you can’t just run home like you’ve done before?”

  “Not this time. I have to avoid those ladies and hope there are no others.” Aside from that, this time was different. It was still aggravating and dangerous, but Adeline was spending more time with him. He’d even made her happy this evening. “I wish Exeter would hurry up and secure Lady Dorie.”

  “What does that have to do with anything? Hasn’t he started to court Miss Chatham?” Turley opened a sideboard and took out two glasses and a decanter of something. Leave it to him to find something suitable to drink.

  “No. Miss Chatham is waiting for the gentleman she wants to marry to return to England. He’s helping her to avoid Lytton until that happens.”

  Turley handed Frits a glass. “It’s truly amazing the things you’re able to discover.”

  “After what happened last year, I feel responsible for Lady Dorie, so I asked him.” Frits drank down half of the glass before he recognized the drink as ratafia. “God, that’s horrible stuff.”

  “Beggars can’t be choosers, and I definitely feel like a beggar. I’ll look to see if there’s anything more palatable.” He turned back to the sideboard. “How long do you plan to hide in here?”

  “Until the next set begins.” Frits held his breath and drained the goblet. “I should be safe after that. Did you find anything else?”

  Turley pulled the stopper out of another bottle and sniffed. “Claret.”

  “Much better.” Frits held out his glass. “While we’re stuck in here, help me think of a way to convince Lady Adeline that she can ignore Lady Dorie’s feelings about me.”

  His friend shook his head. “I have not a clue how you go about doing that.” Turley sipped the wine. “And I’m not sure you would want a lady who would betray a friend.”

  “You have a point.” Frits plopped down on a sofa. “I could be waiting for her for a very long time.” He glanced around the parlor and saw a set of French windows. “They might lead to the terrace.”

  Turley strolled over and pulled back the curtains. “They do. We might do well to reenter the ballroom from there.”

  That was what Frits had been thinking. “We shouldn’t have to wait much longer.”

  Turley opened the window the slightest bit. “Nothing yet.” He closed it again.

  Frits had not heard any music either. As long as they were here, he might as well see if his friend had any ideas. “I need to find a gentleman to dangle in front of Miss Hanson. He should have a title.”

  “Nothing like sacrificing your fellow man,” Turley said with feeling.

  “We must know someone who is at a standstill and needs a rich wife.” How hard could that be? “Her father may be a Cit, but her mother is a lady and well-connected.”

  “Why don’t you ask your mother?” Turley finished his wine and set the glass on the sideboard. “She always knows everything.”

  “I will, but I wish to cast a wider net.” Frits strained to hear whether the music had begun again.

  “Let me ask some discreet questions when I’m at my club or at the Lords.” Turley gave him a long look. “At least you’re consistent.”

  Now what was Turley about? “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You go after a lady with the same single-mindedness as you ran away from one. I must admit that although you danced attendance on Lady Dorie last Season, you did not pursue her as you have Lady Adeline.”

  “Thank you.” Frits heard the faint sound of music. “I think the next set has begun.” Maybe this time he could remain with Adeline the rest of the evening.

  Chapter Nineteen

  When Adeline came back into the ballroom, she glanced around for Littleton and did not see him. Surely he had not gone off by himself. He might be a rake, but that did not mean he was stupid. “Where did Lord Littleton go?”

  Her brother lifted his quizzing glass to his eye, seemed to change his mind, and dropped it. “He grabbed Turley and left. Something about not wanting to meet Miss Tice.”

  “Oh, that’s good, then.” Adeline let out the breath she was holding. She was glad he had taken a friend with him.

  Her brother fixed her with a hard stare. “Adeline, what exactly is going on?”

  She debated telling Will. If anyone had knowledge of what Littleton should do, he would. Before tonight, she would not have thought to confide in him, but that had changed. “There are two ladies attempting to make him marry them. Do you have any advice you can give him?”

  “I wish I did. I left England, but that won’t work for most gentlemen.” Her brother heaved a heartfelt sigh. “I’ll tell you, young ladies can be the very dev—persistent.”

  “So I have noticed.” The prelude for the next set began, and her dance partner approached and bowed.

  When she returned to her family after the dance, she was pleased to see Littleton was present; unfortunately, so was Lord Anglesey. Adeline hoped they would not snipe at each other again.

  “Lady Adeline.” He swept her a bow. “I am here to request the supper dance at tomorrow evening’s ball.”

  “Sorry, Anglesey,” Littleton said. “She has promised that set to me.”

  Adeline ground her back teeth. She was going to murder Littleton. Smiling warmly at Lord Anglesey, she said, “Perhaps the quadrille, my lord.”

  “I would be honored.” He glared at Littleton. “My lady, are you free for a ride in the Park?”

  “Not tomorrow. I have plans.” That was the truth. She was walking with Georgie and the others.

  “The next day?” Lord Anglesey’s eyes narrowed at Littleton.

  She was glad she did not have to accept Littleton’s request for a ride, yet she could not like the way his lordship was making this a contest. “Yes, I am available.”

  “Thank you.” He bowed again and took himself off.

  For Littleton’
s part, he scowled at Lord Anglesey’s back. What was between the two of them?

  “I don’t like him,” Littleton said, as if he could read her mind.

  “Do you know of anything against him?” Adeline held her breath. Surely there was nothing wrong with Lord Anglesey. He was younger than some of the other gentlemen and had not been on the Town very long, but that must be to his benefit. He would have been less likely to engage in bad behavior than the gentleman standing before her had. In fact, he was perfectly charming, and he was so very handsome, with his Byronic looks and golden hair.

  Littleton shook his head. “No.”

  “Well, then.” Adeline stifled her sigh of relief. She had been correct. There was no reason she should not look to Lord Anglesey as a possible mate. “I have no excuse not to stand up with him or ride with him.”

  He inclined his head, as if to acknowledge the truth of her statement. “I’ve asked Lord Turley to help me find a husband for Miss Hanson.”

  Will glanced sharply at Littleton. “Well done. That was one thing I never thought to do.”

  The longer this went on, the more sympathy Adeline had for her brother. “I agree. That is an excellent idea. What traits did you tell him to look for?” He explained what he and Lord Turley had discussed. “Do not limit it only to gentlemen looking for a wealthy wife. One of the reasons she is interested in you is that you are so well set up.”

  “I’ll keep an ear out as well,” her brother volunteered, surprising her yet again.

  “Thank you.” For years, even after Will had married, she’d believed he was a rogue. Not that she thought he was unfaithful to his wife, but she had the idea that he was a here and therian. To be wrong not only pleased her, but made her wonder if she was mistaken about another gentleman. After all, if Adeline had misjudged her own brother—whom she had known all her life—could not a lady with less knowledge of a gentleman be mistaken as well? What would be the best way to discover the truth of the matter? No one discussed the things gentlemen got up to with unmarried young ladies. She slid a glance at her brother. If she asked, would he tell her?