The Most Eligible Lord in London

by Ella Quinn

  “He has never liked Lord Anglesey, but could not say why.” He must be a very good judge of character to have known there was something wrong with the scoundrel. “In any event, Lord Littleton saw Lord Anglesey take me into the woods, and got to us shortly after we arrived at a fountain—that, by the way, is beautiful—and Maximus put himself between Lord Anglesey and me. Then Lady Riverton and Lady Holloway came from another path. I think Lady Holloway knew what Anglesey was going to do. Lord Littleton told everyone what he had discovered from Lady Harrington in Paris, and I hit Lord Anglesey.”

  Georgie tilted her head and stared at Adeline. “You slapped him?”

  Pressing her lips together, Adeline shook her head. “No. I punched him in the nose. I think it is broken.”

  Her friend held the handkerchief to her mouth and went into silent whoops. “W-w-well d-d-done!”

  “Thank you.” She was proud of herself for taking that particular matter into her own hands. After everything that had happened, it made her feel powerful. “My hand hurts, and it is probably bruised, but it was worth it.”

  “I should say so. What did Lord Littleton say?”

  Now that she thought about it, his reaction had been gratifying. “He said it was well done.”

  And a little later he’d kissed her. But that was something Adeline would keep to herself.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  When Frits arrived home from the garden party, he immediately sent a letter to Lord Watford requesting a meeting. Then waited, and waited, and waited, and waited.

  Blast the man.

  On the fourth day, Frits strode into his secretary’s office. “What is going on in the Lords today?”

  Roberts stared at Frits as if he had transformed into someone or something unrecognizable. “The Lords?”

  He would’ve thought the man was making a May-game of him, but for the fact that his secretary’s mouth gaped open. “I’d like an answer sometime this century.”

  The mouth snapped shut. “Right away, my lord.” He shuffled through some papers and pulled one out. “There is a vote this afternoon at three o’clock.”

  That most likely meant there would be meetings before the vote. “If anyone needs me, I’ll be at Whitehall.”

  “Yes, my lord.” Roberts’s disbelieving tone followed Frits out of the office.

  He chuckled to himself. There was no way his secretary could keep this a secret. Soon, most of his senior staff would be wondering if their world had tilted upside down.

  Not wishing to wait in the house for his carriage to be readied, he walked out the back door, across the lawn to the stables, and barked, “Have my town coach readied.”

  In much less time than it would have taken to have sent the order, he was on his way to Whitehall. However, once there, he had a devil of a time hunting down Lord Watford. Frits finally caught up to his lordship in close conversation with another gentleman as they strode down a corridor.

  “Lord Watford.”

  His hopefully soon-to-be-father-in-law glanced at Frits and blinked. “Littleton, are you here for the vote? We could use you.”

  “I actually need a few moments of your time.” His lordship turned back to the other man, about to dismiss Frits. “But I’m happy to vote for anything you want as long as I can speak with you.”

  “I’ll join you in a moment,” Watford said to the other gentleman. He looked at Frits. “Come with me.” They entered a small closet. “What can I do for you?”

  Frits let out a breath. “I sent you a letter asking for an appointment. I wish to marry Lady Adeline.”

  “Talk to me after the vote.” Watford strode out of the room.

  Bollocks!

  That was one way to ensure Frits stayed for the vote. He pulled out his pocket watch. Over an hour to go, and he didn’t even know what to do until then.

  “Littleton, what are you doing here?” Turley clapped Frits on the back.

  He glanced around, but didn’t see anyone in the corridor. “I came to ask Lord Watford for permission to marry Lady Adeline, but he wants me to vote on something before he will give me an answer.”

  His friend’s laugh started deep in his stomach. “I wondered what it would take to get you here.”

  “What is the bill?” If he was going to support something or not, he should know what he was doing.

  “The government is attempting to indemnify the actions of ministers concerning anything they might have done regarding the West Indies. We are opposed, based on the theory that if they did what they were supposed to do, they don’t need indemnification. The issue has been ongoing for a few months. You will be expected to vote against the bill.”

  That sounded fair. “I don’t have a problem with that.”

  “Good man. What are you doing now?” A door opened, and several peers entered the corridor.

  “I have absolutely no idea. The last time I was here was when I took my seat.”

  “You might as well stay with me.” Turley shrugged. “I can show you where to sit.”

  That sounded like a good idea. “Very well.”

  Frits followed his friend around, doing relatively nothing that he could see, until it was time to enter the chambers. Then, at the last minute, the vote was canceled. “Does this happen often?”

  “Yes.” Turley nodded. “If the government doesn’t think they have enough votes to pass the bill, they’ll cancel it.”

  Frits glanced around. “I must find Lord Watford. I wrote to him four days ago.”

  “I’d be surprised if he’s even had time to read your letter.” Turley looked around. “I’ll help you find him.”

  But when they finally discovered where the man was, he looked harried and begged off. “I don’t have time now, but if you can come by Watford House early tomorrow morning before I leave, I shall make time for you.”

  Frits didn’t know what to think. Did his lordship not care if his daughter married? He also did not want Adeline to know he was speaking to her father, and early morning was problematic. That was when she walked Maximus. “Would it be possible for you to stop by Littleton House on your way here?”

  “Yes. I can do that.” Lord Watford waved to another peer, who was waiting for him. “I’ll be by at half past nine.”

  Frits took a step back and bowed. “Thank you, my lord.”

  As his lordship strode off, Turley asked, “Would you like to stay and see how things work?”

  As far as Frits was concerned, this place was a madhouse. Cats in heat were easier to manage and made more sense. “No, thank you. I must be going. I left my coachman walking the horses almost two hours ago.”

  “All right. I’ll see you tomorrow evening, if not before.”

  Tomorrow evening was Adeline’s come out ball. He hoped to have an answer from her father before then.

  The next morning, not knowing what Lord Watford liked, Frits had coffee and tea ready, as well as the makings of a substantial breakfast. His lordship was punctual and was shown into the breakfast room.

  He waved the man to a chair. “Coffee or tea?”

  “Coffee, please.” Lord Watford surveyed the room, which was one of the reasons Frits had met him here. It was one of the most pleasant rooms in the house. He handed his lordship the cup of coffee. “Thank you.”

  Frits poured a cup of tea for himself. “Would you like anything to eat?”

  “No, thank you. I’ve already broken my fast.” He pointed at the coffee. “My wife won’t allow coffee in the house. She says it makes everything smell.”

  Frits didn’t care one way or the other. Adeline could do as she wished after she took over the household. “I hope you enjoy it.” He waited for his lordship to begin the conversation, but after a few seconds, decided the man was waiting for him. “I would like to ask your permission to marry Lady Adeline. I believe we have a great deal in common.” Including their lack of interest in politics and Town. “And I think I could give her the life she wants and deserves.”

  W
atford poured another cup of coffee. “Do you love her?”

  Frits wanted brandy. That was the last question he’d expected to receive, and he had managed to avoid thinking about that particular emotion. Then he remembered the kiss, and how it had changed everything he knew about kissing. “If I am not already in love with her, I am very close.”

  “An honest answer.” Lord Watford regarded Frits. “That is refreshing. My wife, who has spent much more time thinking about this issue than have I, thinks the match would be a good one for both of you. I shall bow to her expertise. But the person you must convince is my daughter.” His lordship finished his coffee and rose. “I wish you good luck. I must be off.”

  Frits walked his lordship to the door. He should be relieved and happy that he had permission to convince Adeline. But he still had the sword of Damocles in the form of Lady Dorie hanging over his efforts to wed his lady. On the other hand, Exeter’s plan for Lady Dorie this evening might be just what Frits needed to move his own courtship along.

  * * *

  Four days after the disastrous garden party, Crispin was still suffering from the broken nose Lady Adeline had given him. Thankfully, Jean and Sarah had said they would not discuss what had occurred; to do so would only harm Lady Adeline. Yet, Sarah had warned him that if she saw him without his wife, she would give him the cut direct. In other words, even if he hadn’t had a broken nose, he could not show his face in Polite Society.

  Perdition!

  It still seemed impossible that he had a wife and a son. Crispin wasn’t sure he wanted either of them. What the devil was he going to do with her when she did arrive? Her French had been excellent, but her English was almost nonexistent. He didn’t even know if he’d recognize her.

  His father’s butler knocked on Crispin’s bedchamber door. “My lord, her ladyship has arrived. She expects to see you in her parlor in an hour.”

  “Thank you.” He’d been putting off writing his father about the discovery that he had a wife. And an heir. Now he’d have to explain how it came about to his mother, who had always been much sterner than his father.

  An uncomfortable prickling sensation slithered down his spine. As if spiders were attacking him.

  Dear God, she knew.

  But how could she know, and how had she arrived so quickly?

  He shook himself to get rid of the feeling, but it clung to him and wouldn’t let go. He needed time to organize his thoughts, and an hour was not nearly long enough. Then again, she had never believed the stories he’d crafted to get himself out of trouble. His mother had always seen right through them, as if she’d witnessed him doing whatever it was he’d tried to deny.

  “My lord.” His valet held the door open as footmen rolled in a bathtub. “I think the dark blue jacket and breeches.”

  She must be furious. “How bad is it?”

  “According to her maid, she is in rare form. They barely stopped to rest on the way here.”

  When he knocked on the door of his mother’s parlor, her companion opened the door, inclining her head as he entered. His mother was seated behind an elegant, curved burl desk.

  “Mama.” He bowed. “I see you are in good health.”

  He sauntered forward, and as he reached one of the two delicate chairs and began to sit, she raised one blond brow. “Remain standing, Anglesey. You will not be here long.”

  This was going to be every bit as unpleasant as Crispin had feared.

  “You have disgraced this family. Unfortunately, I am not in the least surprised.” He winced and braced himself for the rest. “Over the years, I have argued to no avail against the lack of discipline your father allowed. He was certain you would grow out of your fecklessness. Although how he could have thought that when no one was allowed to say you nay, I have never understood.” Her gaze met his. “I see someone took issue with your behavior.” He bit his lip and resisted touching his nose. “Good for them. You have two choices.” She held up one finger. “You can go with me to meet your wife and son in Dover, and attempt to be the husband, the man, you should be. If she will have you, that is. From there, we will travel immediately to Normanby, where you will be examined by our doctor to ensure you have not contracted the pox.” For the first time he felt a surge of anger, but forced himself to remain outwardly calm. She held up a second finger. “Or you may return to the Continent.” He was about to pounce on that choice when her eyes hardened. “You will be provided an allowance that is sufficient for your needs until you come into the title. But do not think you will be allowed to run amuck once you are in Normanby. You will have a trustee who will approve all your expenditures.”

  That could not be possible. “For how long?”

  “For the rest of your life.” Rising, she went to the door. “You have until tomorrow morning to make your decision. If you wish to return to the Continent, you will depart immediately.”

  For a few moments, Crispin couldn’t move, and when he turned he found himself alone. Alone to make the choice that would set the course for the rest of his life.

  He walked slowly back to his chamber. Neither option was one he ever thought he would have to choose. One path would allow him all the freedom he wanted, but even though he’d eventually come into the title, it would be hollow. And he had seen what happened to gentlemen who had “funds sufficient” for their needs. It was never enough. The other path was a life he’d never thought to have or to want. But remaining and taking up his duties was the only way to . . . what? Be reconciled with his family, claim his rightful place? Could he do it? Did he want to do that?

  * * *

  The day before Adeline’s come out ball, Georgie was announced. She strode into Adeline’s parlor. “Lady Normanby has arrived in Town to try to control the scandal her son created.”

  “I wish she would take him back to the country.” Adeline still shivered over the close escape she’d had. If it had not been for Littleton—Lord Littleton. Lately every time she thought about him, which was far too often, she forgot to use his title—she would have been ruined. “Better yet, a dungeon.”

  “You might want to know that it is being put about that he fell and hit his face on the fountain.” Adeline was glad she had told Georgie everything that day. Well, almost everything. She had much more access to gossip than Adeline. “No one knows you were present, and because of the boat incident, no one remembers you being with Lord Littleton, or not being with the main group.”

  “That is helpful.” Adeline had still debated telling her mother what had occurred, but could not take the chance. Wivenly had been furious that Lord Anglesey even danced with her. Her brother had also been angry with himself that he had not seen Lord Anglesey for the bounder he was. Not that she didn’t want the scoundrel punished, but she did not want her name associated with his at all. And there was Littleton. She had not seen him since the party. What was she to make of his kiss?

  “Speaking of Lord Littleton,” Georgie said. “Have you decided whether he interests you?”

  “I think he must. I have been unable to think of much else other than him.” And not for lack of trying. A footman had brought lemonade and biscuits. She took a long drink. “But I am not sure I can trust him, and I do not wish to betray Dorie.”

  “Both of those are valid concerns.” Georgie ate a biscuit and took several sips of lemonade before saying, “I believe you must speak with Dorie. She cannot tell you to trust him. Lord knows she does not. But perhaps you can get a sense of how she would feel if you and he acted on this attraction you have.”

  That would be one fence cleared. “You are right. I must have more information before I can decide what I want to do.”

  “Excellent.” Georgie stood. “Now it’s time for us to go shopping.”

  Shopping? Adeline had completely forgotten. She wondered if she would run into Littleton again. “Give me a few minutes to change.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The next day, Adeline arrived at Huntingdon House as early as was pol
ite. After what had occurred the other day, she was almost sure her feelings toward Littleton had increased. She might even be close to falling in love with him. Yet she had to know from Dorie’s point of view what had happened between the two of them. Then, depending on what Adeline heard from her friend, she would ask him for his side of the story. Hearing it from Humphries was not good enough. At least not for her.

  She was welcomed, bowed to, and led into what looked to be a morning room.

  “My lady, would you care for some tea?” the Huntingdon butler asked.

  “Yes, please.” Tea was helpful for all sorts of things, including passing the time when one wanted to just get on with it.

  Fortunately, the tea tray arrived just before Dorie did.

  “Adeline.” Her friend held out her hands. “Please do not tell me that we made plans and I have forgotten.”

  That was a fair question. Other than for a ball, she had never been here before. “Not at all. There is something I must discuss with you, and I do not wish to do it with our other friends present.”

  Dorie sat next to Adeline on the sofa and poured the tea. “What do you wish to discuss?”

  She took a sip of tea, then set the cup down. “Lord Littleton.” She waited for the expression of shock to pass from Dorie’s face. “I have . . . rather, I am developing feelings for him, and I know he has affection for me. What I do not know is whether I can trust him with my . . . my, er, feelings.”

  Dorie rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I do not know if I can give you that particular answer. What I can tell you is that, after much thought, I have decided he and I would not have made each other happy.”

  That had been clear to Adeline for weeks now. But it did not answer her questions. “What did he do to attach your affections?”

  Dorie smiled a little. “He paid attention to me. We danced and went on carriage rides. He would occasionally send flowers.” Adeline always had fresh flowers from him. Was that simply his way of getting a lady to notice him? “He was so handsome and charming that I was very taken with him.” Dorie stared down at her hands, which were twisted together. “I thought I was in love. Yet lately, I have realized what I felt was infatuation.”