Noting she did this whenever she was deep in thought tickled him almost as much as his being able to solve the rug problem. “I have several rugs in a storage facility at the port. Perhaps we might find what we need there. They are waiting on one of my ships to transport them to Philadelphia, but as they belong to me already…”
Her eyes widened. “I thought you only transported spices, my lord.”
“Mostly, but I hope to expand more and more. The textiles go over very well in America. You might find some appropriate fabric for drapes in storage as well. I will write to my man at the port and arrange an escort for you if you like. You cannot go there without some protection. The docks are no place for ladies.” A knot formed in his belly, and he wished he hadn’t mentioned his stores. The idea of any harm coming to either of the ladies because of him was unbearable.
“How exciting. I can check with Lady Jane and see if Everton’s can supply an escort. There is no need for you to go to much trouble. I can make time next week to go to the warehouse.” Bright with the idea of a new adventure, her eyes were mesmerizing.
Running his schedule for the following week through his mind, he planned to cancel several appointments to be at the warehouse. He would not have anything unpleasant occur. “I have the guest list for the dinner party if you have time to discuss it.”
She checked the clock in the foyer. “I suppose I have a few minutes before my next appointment, my lord.”
Following her into his study, he was lured by the gentle sway of her hips. Could she know how alluring she was? He guessed the episode with March had damaged her confidence. Fury at March staggered him.
“Are you all right, my lord?” Mrs. Horthorn asked.
Getting himself under control, he forced a smile. “Yes, madam. Thank you.”
“It’s just that you looked as if you might be planning to do someone harm.”
Once again, his easily read facial expressions had betrayed him. “I assure you, I am well. I had a thought and unfortunately have no ability to hide my emotions without an effort.”
Sylvia cocked her head as she sat by his desk. “What was the thought?”
“Miss Dowder,” Mrs. Horthorn admonished. “That is not your business.”
“Of course, you’re right. I apologize.”
“No need.” There was little point in lying, as he was unskilled at it. “I was thinking of Lord March, and how foolish and ungentlemanly he is.”
Her shock registered with wide eyes and bright red cheeks. “I…um…” She drew a long breath. “There is no need for you to be distressed by my past, my lord. Hunter has made his choice, and while not what I had planned for my life, I am quite happy at the Society.”
“I’m glad to hear it, but I still think March should pay for his behavior.” The only question was how to make the blackguard pay.
“You are not responsible for my honor or virtue, Lord Grafton. My parents had their chance to have a say and chose to honor the wishes of a peer. As a new member of the peerage, you might do well to follow their lead.”
He laughed. “Are you worried I will make an enemy of March? No need. Any importance he retains is in his own head. He is not as well liked as his brother was, despite being the more outgoing of the two.”
Sylvia cocked her head. “Is that so? Then perhaps I am better off not married to a man who is scorned by society even if it is behind his back.”
Bowing, Anthony agreed. “You would have made Hunter Gautier tolerable.”
She laughed but stifled it too quickly. “You had better show me that list, my lord.”
Disappointed not to hear more of her laughter, he rounded the desk and pulled the guest list for the dinner party from a pile of papers he’d been sorting through earlier. “Miles Hallsmith is a particular friend of mine. He always makes a party more fun with his quick wit. The Duke and Duchess of Middleton are good friends as well. You will like Millie, and you have much in common.”
Sylvia brightened. “She was an Everton lady. How nice it will be to meet her.”
“I’m glad you think so.” Making her smile sent a jolt of joy through Anthony. “My mother will attend, of course. Shall we invite your parents and your sister?”
A long sigh seemed to weigh her down. “That is very kind of you, my lord. I would love to have my sister come, but Mother can be difficult.”
“I’ll leave it to you to decide then.”
“If you are sure it will not be an imposition, I will extend an invitation.”
“Not at all. Invite anyone you wish.” It was very comfortable planning an evening with Sylvia, but liking his Everton lady was not part of the plan.
“Very good.” She rose and brushed out her skirt. “I will go to your warehouse on Monday then come back in a few days to speak to your cook about the meal.”
Already anticipating seeing her in a few days, he still longed to keep her. “We could talk about it now if you like.”
Her smile was warm and touched her eyes in a way that made him long to hear her thoughts. “I have another appointment this morning, my lord. What is a good time to go to meet with your warehouseman?”
An early riser, he preferred to get as much done in the morning hours as possible. “You might try the same time as you arrived here this morning. The working classes tend to get an early start,” he said, attempting to sound like all the boring peers he’d met since arriving in London.
“I like the morning. The world seems fresh and rejuvenated.” Walking to the front door, she bid him good day.
It was time for him to get to his own work. There was a stack of papers on his desk waiting for his signature, yet he stood at the window and watched as Mrs. Horthorn climbed into the carriage, leaving Sylvia to walk in the opposite direction. Fascinated, he pulled on the coat he’d just removed and followed her at a safe distance.
It was harder to follow once she climbed into a hack, but the busy hours of midday were approaching, and the carriage could not move fast. They entered the business end of town before she stepped out of the carriage and entered a building.
Anthony remained across the street, obscured by the crowd and the shadows of a doorway, until she was safely inside. He crossed the street to the door where she’d disappeared. The sign above read: The Weekly Whisper, Mr. Cole, Editor. The Whisper was a newspaper, but what could Sylvia be doing there? Did she have a secondary assignment from the Everton Domestic Society? He hated the jealousy tugging inside him. He must be losing his mind if he was jealous of his Everton lady spending time with another client. He should walk away and see to the matters of his import company. Miss Dowder would be at the warehouse on Monday, and maybe then he could find out more about her activities.
His feet wouldn’t obey, and he stayed rooted to the spot outside the Whisper’s offices.
An hour later, he wished he’d brought his umbrella along as a light drizzle made him feel more foolish than curious. Then the door opened, and Sylvia stepped onto the street. She carried an umbrella, surveyed the darkening sky and opened it before heading back toward Everton House.
She hadn’t seen him, and it occurred to him to just remain behind and let her walk on. Yet his feet and mouth would not agree to the safer, more English staid response. Anthony fell in step behind her. “I cannot help wondering why a fine lady, such as yourself, would take a hack to this area then spend more than an hour in the office of a newspaper.”
With her eyes wide, she studied him a full beat before blinking. “Are you following me, my lord?”
“I was curious why you didn’t return with Mrs. Horthorn.”
The drizzle became a steady rain.
Dry under her umbrella, she narrowed those sharp blue eyes. “I can’t see how that is any of your business.”
Anthony flagged down a hack. “It is not, but I am still curious.”
The carriage stopp
ed, and he held the door open for her.
Frowning, she stepped in.
He sat across from her.
Those eyes were wide and shocked once again. “It is not proper for you to ride in a carriage alone with me, my lord. I realize you are American, but you must know that.”
He called up to the hack to take them to his townhouse on Grosvenor Street. “Don’t you find all these rules tedious, Miss Dowder?”
Amusement danced behind her eyes and she smiled. “That is not the point, my lord. They are still the rules by which we live.”
“Like the fact that I must call you Miss Dowder and you call me my lord. Wouldn’t it be simper if you called me Anthony and you granted me permission to call you Sylvia? Wouldn’t that be the beginning of a friendship.”
She patted her hair into place and tucked a wavy piece behind her ear. “We are not friends, my lord. You are the Earl of Grafton, and I am in your employ. I will do what you have paid the Everton Domestic Society for. Then we shall part ways and probably never see each other again. In fact, once our business is complete, the only time you will see this face is when you meet my sister, Serena, at a ball or event.”
He forced the muscle in his jaw to relax. It always tightened and ticked when he became annoyed. “I think in order to be the hostess for my parties and whatnot, you and I will have to form some kind of friendship.”
Her smile returned. “Perhaps, but I think my lord and Miss Dowder will have to do for now.”
“Then perhaps you would tell me what you were doing for over an hour in that office.”
The carriage crawled through the wet, busy streets, and Sylvia gazed out the window. A few moments went by, and Anthony worried how far he could push her before she asked for someone else to take his assignment. Not that it should matter to him which Everton lady played hostess or redecorated his home. Still, he hated the idea of another lady or being set aside by Sylvia. He too watched out the window.
“If I tell you, you must promise to keep it to yourself, and I will require one of your secrets that I will keep.” She peered directly in his eyes.
A bubble of excitement spread through him. “I agree. In fact, I will tell you my secret first.”
She nodded. “What is your secret?”
“I do not want to be an earl. I have never sought to join the ranks of English peers, and I hate that it was thrust upon me. If I could, I would give the title over to my cousin Lavender, but I’m told that a woman cannot carry the title. I tried to refuse it, but my aunt Daphne was appalled at the idea that I would let our family title revert to the crown or go to some distant cousin no one had ever met. I love my aunt and could not disappoint her, so here we are. I told only my momma. My aunt assumes I came to my senses and am happy with my new designation, when in truth, I hate it. Though I’ll admit, the attention in ballrooms is very nice.” Power and title were everything to these English.
“I sympathize, my lord, but you said as much at Everton House, so it is not really a secret. At least, not to me.”
She was right; he had disclosed more at their meeting than he had to the people closest to him in six months. The way she looked at him or perhaps the sweet tone of her voice pulled information from him. “Here is something no one knows. I am going to live in Italy. I’m not sure when I will leave or how long I will live there. I think I may stay forever and make wine.”
She stared at him. “You would run away?”
Of course, she couldn’t understand. No one in all of England could fathom his desire to escape and live his own life. “I would follow my own path. In the meantime, I have secured the title for my nephew or a son of my own, should I ever have one. I will hire a steward to see to my tenants and holdings here.”
Her gaze never wavered from his. “Now, that is a big secret. You do not want the thing that most men will envy you for. But won’t you miss your family and the friends you have made here in the last few years?”
“Of course. I’m not heartless. I have not left yet because I love my family, and I have been tempted to jump on the next transport several times. I preferred enjoying London when no one paid me any attention and my responsibilities were not so grand. Enough about me. Now tell me your secret.”
She drew a long breath that pushed her small breasts up near the edge of her dress. “I write a weekly article about the goings-on at balls and in parlors for the Weekly Whisper.”
“You write gossip in the paper?”
“Only harmless gossip. Though occasionally I right a wrong when someone deserves it.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she dared him to contradict her.
“What is the name of your column?”
“Merryweather Mirth by Mable Tattler.”
“You wrote that bit about old Henry Cornwash falling in his pudding at the Harbinger dinner party. I laughed for half an hour when I read that. Henry can’t hold his brandy.”
“And he’s a nasty drunk who embarrassed little Emily Marsden and made her cry that same night.” Her cheeks pinked as she justified her attack.
“So, you avenge the downtrodden?” He’d never met a lady who had employment before, and now it seemed that Sylvia Dowder had not one job but two. She was fascinating.
Frowning, she turned back to the weather. “I do what I can, my lord. I think that is enough secrets for one day. Don’t you?”
He leaned back against the cushion. They had made their way out of the busy section of town and now rolled freely toward his townhouse. “I suppose we must leave some for another day.”
The carriage slowed to a stop, and she glared at him. “What makes you think I will share any more of my secrets with you?”
Stepping down, Anthony considered her question. He turned back and said, “It seems to me you and I both needed a confidant, Miss Dowder. I predict that when you see how well I keep this secret of yours, you will be happy for someone to talk to. I further predict that in a short time you will be calling me by my Christian name.”
She crossed her arms and frowned but made no comment.
Once the door was closed, he gave the driver directions to Everton House and watched until it rounded the corner. He would be behind on his work for the day, but somehow it had been worth it. Sylvia Dowder, Everton lady, intrigued him, and his curiosity had to be satisfied. He never dreamed she would be going to her second place of employment. It was an idle curiosity and nothing more, but it had been fun to exchange secrets. What other news did Sylvia Dowder hold close to her breast? It was none of his business. She was right that once their business was complete, she would move on to another assignment and it was unlikely they would meet often or at all. Still, he enjoyed her wit, and the way her mind worked when they had met before she joined Everton’s.
Deciding the next few months would be fun rather than a chore, he left his coat and headed to his office. A fire in the hearth helped him shake off the cool rain.
Only the day before, he’d been dreading the entire process of showing himself to his contemporaries as a new earl, and now, it would be a laugh. His gray day turned around by a pair of blue eyes and a wicked smile. Sylvia Dowder had changed his perspective. What else would she change before they parted ways?
Chapter 3
Every Tuesday Sylvia did her daughterly duty and went to tea at her parents’ townhouse. Anthony was right about one thing, it was better to have told someone her secret than to keep it bottled up. For her entire life, she had enjoyed keeping secrets with her twin. Now it was difficult to keep that relationship the same. She loved her sister, but their lives were taking different directions and it was harder to relate. When they had been young and looking for husbands together, it had all been a laugh. Those days were gone.
She climbed the stairs to the townhouse where she had come out to society and spent many seasons. Before she could strike the knocker, Elijah, the butler, opened the door. “Good d
ay, Miss Sylvia. Your mother and sister are already in the parlor.”
With a smile, she stifled a sigh. “Thank you, Elijah. I hope you are well.”
“Tolerably, miss.” He never smiled, but she saw the amusement behind those gray eyes.
“Are all the servants in good health?” There were some people and things she missed about living at home. She rarely heard about the staff and missed many of them.
“Mary, the under-maid, was down with a cold last week, but has recovered. Everyone else is in good health and spirits. They wanted to line up to greet you today, but the lady of the house said it was unseemly to do so in this case.”
Mother didn’t want any attention taken away from Serena. Sylvia could understand that. Her sister should get her due after all the years taken up with Sylvia’s courting and wedding nonsense. And since it all came to nothing but scandal, it was time Serena was put forward. “I would have loved to see everyone, but Mother is right. There is no need to make a fuss.”
There was almost a frown before he righted his expression to the benign butler she’d grown up with. “As you say, miss.”
Sylvia walked with Elijah to the parlor door, which he opened. “Enjoy your visit, Miss Sylvia.”
“Thank you.”
Mother and Serena turned from their conversation when she entered. Mother frowned.
Jumping up from her seat, Serena grinned brightly before running over and dragging Sylvia into her arms. She was a vision in a pale-yellow dress with lace on both the sleeves and neckline. “Oh, Sylvie, how I have missed you. You look just the same.”
“You look lovely, Serena. Is that a new dress?” Hugging her twin was like lifting a heavy weight from her shoulders. Everything inside Sylvia eased as if she were home.
“Mother and I have been to the modiste and ordered all new dresses and gowns for my season.”
“Enough, Serena. There is no need to run about like a common girl. We do not kiss and hug like farmers. Where are your manners?” Mother’s sharp reprimand cut through the joy.
“It is only family here, Mother.” Sylvia should have kept quiet, but her mother’s constant need for propriety forced her hand.
A Lady's Virture Page 3
