“About Lord Sommers?” Samantha asked, her teasing grin making it clear to her best friend that she really meant Lady Evangeline.
Julia gave a smirk. “He is rather handsome, which makes me wonder why I haven’t noticed him before,” she commented, taking a seat in the coach. Samantha settled in next to her, the two facing the direction of travel. Although Julia wasn’t always allowed to take the town coach on her occasional visits to Rosemount House – Harrington House was only a few blocks south in Park Lane, and she could have easily walked – she had done so today so she could collect Lady Samantha from her uncle’s house just a few more blocks down Park Lane.
“He is, but ...” Samantha paused and let out a sigh. “He’s only a baron,” she said with a teasing grin, making it evident that she would have no qualms about considering a baron for a husband. Given her tenuous place in the ton – her uncle was an earl and her mother had been the daughter of an earl, but her father had never been a titled gentleman – Samantha never thought to marry above her station. Given Matthew Fitzsimmons’ advanced age, it was likely his son, Charles Fitzsimmons, Viscount Reardon, would inherit the earldom. Once that happened, and if she wasn’t yet married, Samantha wondered what might happen to her. She and Reardon were cordial with one another, but Samantha had no reason to expect him to house her, let alone provide an allowance to pay for her gowns and such. She would be at the mercy of whatever plans her uncle might have made with respect to his estate.
Julia nodded, understanding her friend’s comment about Lord Sommers being a baron. “I would like to believe I’ll be open to advances from men of any title, but I often wonder if my mother would allow me to marry a man who was less than an earl’s son.”
Samantha smiled. “I cannot imagine a match less than a marquess for you,” she countered playfully.
“Oh, please no,” Julia countered, thinking the higher rank would require far more decorum than she was willing to exhibit. No, a title of ‘countess’ would be just fine.
“So, is Lord Sommers good enough for our Evangeline?” Samantha wondered, getting back to the matter at hand.
Julia took a breath and sighed. “I find myself hoping so. Do you think he’ll propose marriage?”
Shrugging, Samantha considered the situation. “They’ve been seen in public, although apparently not by anyone who thought it scandalous, or we would have heard something by now. Which means he doesn’t have to ask for her hand, out of a sense of honor or anything,” she added carefully.
“But, we saw them,” Julia argued. “Couldn’t we insist he do the honorable thing?” she wondered, thinking they could force the baron to propose by sending the man a note claiming he had been spotted in the company of an unmarried lady.
Samantha snorted. “Be careful, Julia. You sound as if you want to create a scandal where none exists,” she warned with an arched eyebrow.
“Well, if it gets Evangeline an offer of marriage ...”
“And Lord Everly hasn’t yet returned from his trip,” Samantha continued, interrupting her friend. “Any honorable gentleman would ask permission of her protector before courting a woman.”
Julia didn’t bring up the obvious – what if Lord Sommers wasn’t an honorable man? What if he was merely spending time with Evangeline in the guise of reading the book in the hopes of stealing a kiss or two? What if he had already compromised Evangeline?
Perhaps the two had already done scandalous things with one another!
The thought had her hoping that were the case – for Evangeline to finally have a suitor would mean hope for the two of them. “We’ll be next, you know,” Julia said suddenly, turning to regard Samantha with a look that suggested she was either panicked or relieved.
“Whatever do you mean?” Samantha asked, her brows furrowing.
“To marry,” Julia replied, as if it were obvious. “Our godfather takes an interest in these matters, you must know, even if our own fathers – uncles –,” she corrected herself, “Don’t seem to.”
Samantha straightened in the squabs. “I don’t think my uncle has taken an interest because I haven’t exactly given him a reason to,” she argued with a shake of her head. She never discussed possible suitors in the presence of her uncle, nor did she mention anyone she had danced with at balls if she happened to attend when Lord and Lady Chamberlain did not. “And your father won’t because he doesn’t want to have to come up with your dowry.” This last was said with a huge grin and a chuckle, but Julia merely shook her head, knowing her friend was teasing.
“It’s not funny, Sam,” she said with a look of annoyance.
“I apologize,” Samantha offered. “Even though I know I speak the truth.”
Julia shrugged, still thinking of their mutual friend. “Do you think Evangeline wants to wed Lord Sommers?” she wondered, returning to the subject at hand. “She kept referring to the book they were reading, as if that were the only reason they were spending time together. Can that be all there is to it?”
Samantha cocked her head to one side and regarded Julia for a moment before she replied, “Maybe. But I do believe she wants to wed the man. They’re well suited. He’s a friend of Everly’s. And he’s certainly tall enough for her,” she added mischievously.
Julia resisted the urge to snort. “So, if it looks as if our Evangeline needs a bit of help in the scandal department? In order to ensure a proposal? What will we do?” she asked, her expression suggesting she was already plotting scenarios that could force a gentleman to propose.
“Nothing!” Samantha replied, her eyes widening. After a pause, she added, “Or, at least, very little.” She quieted as she thought about her own scenarios to ensure Lady Evangeline received an offer of marriage.
Giggling, Julia finally turned her attention to the coach window. “Oh, dear,” she murmured suddenly. “We’re not moving.”
It was Samantha’s turn to giggle. “That’s because you never told the driver where to take us,” she whispered. Reaching up with her parasol, Samantha knocked on the trap door above. When the driver opened the door and peered down, she said, “Back to Fitzsimmons Manor, please.”
The driver nodded and closed the door.
In a moment, the Harrington coach pulled away from the Rosemount House drive, its occupants deep in thought about courting, scandalous liaisons, and possibly randy barons.
Chapter 39
Gray Skies, Rain and Tea
With the gray skies and pouring rain, Evangeline feared Lord Sommers would forego their morning read, but just a few minutes after the appointed hour for their sixth day of reading The Story of a Baron, the baron appeared in the Rosemount House vestibule. His cape coat was drenched, as was his beaver, but his smile upon his arrival at the threshold of the library had Evangeline’s heart skipping a beat.
“You came!” she said with a brilliant smile, unable to keep the surprise out of her voice. “You might have caught your death in this downpour,” she added, a bit of worry showing with her furrowed eyebrows.
Jeffrey returned the smile, heartened to hear her concern for his welfare. He was also happy to see Evangeline dressed in a bright apple green gown, her smile chasing away the gloom. “Of course, my lady,” he replied as he took a bow and hurried to kiss the back of her hand.
“Would you like tea? Or something stronger, perhaps?” she offered, trying to ignore the shiver that passed through her body as the baron kissed her hand.
“Tea, please, as I find myself a bit chilled. I cannot recall having two springs in a row where it’s been this cold,” he commented as they moved to the leather couch. He was surprised to find the tea service already on the low table. “Did you have a caller this morning?” he wondered, glad they were meeting in the library instead of the parlor.
Evangeline shook her head. “No, but I wanted to be sure the tea was ready to serve if
you did come, seeing as how cold and wet it is out there,” she remarked. She took her usual seat in the couch and leaned over to pour tea. “And it’s warmer here in the library.”
Jeffrey joined her on the couch then, touched that she thought to have a warm drink ready for him. “Thank you,” he said as he leaned over and kissed her cheek.
Stilling herself, Evangeline finished pouring a cup of tea for herself and finally gave him a nod. Unable to hide her blush, she allowed a grin. “You’re welcome. Should we begin?”
Tempted to kiss her again, Jeffrey realized he could not – the damned butler was watching from the library door. “Yes, let’s,” he agreed.
Chapter 40
Chapter Twelve: The Business of Being a Baron
With a good deal of trepidation, Matthew stood before the largest piece of furniture in the library. The mahogany behemoth had been a gift to his father from his mother. She had arranged for its construction with the words, “It must have a large surface and enough drawers to hold the business of being a baron.”
Well, the furniture maker had not disappointed. With ten drawers and a smooth surface nearly the size of the library door, the desk had been the sixth Baron Ballantine’s pride and not-so-joy. The lack of joy, of course, was due to the lack of funds associated with the barony. Now that he had inherited the desk – and everything else in Ballantine Place – Matthew understood his father’s take on the mahogany monstrosity.
Despite the library being his favorite room in the entire house, this one piece of furniture nearly ruined it for him. And all because several invoices had multiplied into too many, so many, in fact, that there was little space left on the desktop. Now that he had his winnings from the card game at the ball, Matthew decided it was time to see to some payments.
He ran his fingers through his hair before taking the large chair on the other side of the desk. If he could have afforded the expense upon inheriting the barony, he would have hired a secretary to do the monthly bills. Seeing to the financial requirements was his least favorite responsibility of being a baron, for it reminded him of how very close he was to insolvency. The sooner he married and secured a dowry, the sooner the barony would be safe.
Marry her within the month and I’ll double the dowry.
He would speak with Geraldine on the morrow, he decided.
Chapter 41
A Death in the Ton
“Is it like this for the Sommers’ barony?” Evangeline suddenly asked, her brows furrowing with concern. “I know last year was particularly difficult for the entire country,” she added as she turned to regard the baron, referring to the Year Without a Summer. The incessant rain and cold temperatures meant little in the way of crops, near famine for part of the country and a huge loss in livestock.
Jeffrey stilled himself, not sure how to respond. His barony was in a far better financial situation than the one he had described in the book, but if the coming summer was as bad as last year, the Sommers barony would be on the brink of insolvency. “It was,” he agreed. “For those who depended on agriculture for their livelihood,” he added. “However, I have the benefit of owning a coal mine and a farm with a herd of sheep that survived the year,” he explained. “And a contract for the wool, of course,” not considering Evangeline might be ignorant of the textile business in England.
Evangeline nodded her understanding. “I’ve no idea what my brother’s investments involve,” she said, her attention suddenly on the library’s windows. “I suppose I should ask, seeing as how he’ll probably arrange another expedition just as soon as he’s home.”
Jeffrey suppressed the urge to react. “Do you think he’ll arrive today?” he wondered, trying his best to keep his tone conversational.
“Today, perhaps tomorrow,” she answered with a shrug.
Jeffrey felt a bit of panic set in. “Milady,” he started to say.
“You really should called me ‘Evangeline’,” the mistress of the house replied, one of her hands suddenly brushing his coat sleeve. “I insist.”
Jeffrey swallowed. “Then you should call me ‘Jeffrey’,” he countered, his breaths still a bit short. “You’re saying he could walk in on us at any moment,” he added nervously.
Evangeline shook her head but then reconsidered. Harry Tennison really could arrive at any moment. “I suppose,” she replied simply.”
“Milady?” a baritone voice sounded from the doorway.
Evangeline turned to find the butler, Jones, standing on the threshold.
“Yes, Jones?” she responded, standing so that she could turn to regard the butler. Jeffrey stood as well, curious as to the reason for the butler’s interruption. He was quite sure the man had been standing just outside the door the entire time Jeffrey had been in the library.
“A caddy just delivered word that Lord Norwick has perished.”
Evangeline stared at Jones for several seconds, his words penetrating her brain but not quite making sense.
Seeing her distress and feeling a bit on his own behalf, Jeffrey reached for one of her hands. “Did the caddy say what happened to Lord Norwick?” he asked of the butler, stunned at the news that David Fitzwilliam, Earl of Norwick, had died. The man was in his mid-forties, true, but dead? “How ... how did he die?” he asked, knowing Evangeline wouldn’t put voice to her own curiosity.
The butler afforded him the courtesy of a nod. “The caddy said he witnessed the accident in Oxford Street. Apparently, Lord Norwick was thrown from his horse and broke his neck when he hit the pavement below,” Jones explained, suddenly uncomfortable when Lady Evangeline clamped a hand over her mouth, her shock quite evident in her widened eyes.
Jeffrey wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his chest. “He was an expert horseman,” he argued with a shake of his head, addressing his comment to the butler.
Evangeline sucked in an unsteady breath. “Lady Norwick,” Evangeline whispered in despair. “She’ll be heartbroken.” Tears filled her eyes. “She loved Lord Norwick.” And she’s with child.
Jeffrey turned his attention to Evangeline, stunned at the sight of her tears. He pulled a handkerchief from his waistcoat pocket. “Evangeline,” he whispered, offering the square of fabric.
Instead of taking the proffered handkerchief, Evangeline shook her head before burying it in the small of his shoulder. The scent of honeysuckle wafted past Jeffrey’s nostrils, reminding him of the last time he had held her so intimately in the parlor. She was acquainted with the earl’s wife, he remembered from their discussion the day before.
Lady Norwick was now a widow.
Christ! Norwick was one of the few in the ton who actually loved his wife, who had given up his ownership of a celebrated brothel, given up who knew how many mistresses, and given up any hint of a scandalous life in order to marry Lady Clarinda Brotherly, an earl’s daughter.
The woman would be inconsolable.
Since she hadn’t yet given birth to an heir, he could only hope she was with child. Although, if she was not, Norwick did have a twin brother, Daniel Fitzwilliam, who could step in and assume the earldom.
Jones cleared his throat, obviously distressed at seeing the baron holding the earl’s sister as if they were betrothed. Jeffrey let go his hold, although Evangeline remained with her head against his shoulder. “Lilies,” she said suddenly. “Jones, please see to a delivery of lilies to Norwick House,” she ordered suddenly. She raised her head to regard the baron. “I need to pay a call on Lady Clarinda tomorrow morning,” she said. “Perhaps we can meet to read the day after?” she questioned, her voice suddenly quiet.
Given the news they’d just been given, Jeffrey was surprised at Evangeline’s offer. “I look forward to it,” he said quietly, not wanting the butler to overhear him.
“As do I,” Evangeline admitted in a whisper. Her entire day was a
rranged around when she could sit with the baron and read the book. What would she do with herself when they finished it? A sense of loss settled over her as she left her head resting against his shoulder.
Jeffrey felt a sense of excitement at her words. His entire schedule was built around when he and Lady Evangeline could meet to read the damned book. But there were only a few chapters left – what would he do when they were finished? He couldn’t imagine a day without Evangeline in it.
Christ! If the damned butler hadn’t been standing there staring at them, Jeffrey thought he would have kissed her right then and there, kissed her and perhaps even proposed marriage – on the condition that her brother would allow him to, of course.
In the meantime, he realized he really should take his leave of Rosemount House before the butler had him bodily removed – or worse. “I will call upon you the day after tomorrow,” he said, raising his voice so Jones could hear. He lifted one of her hands to his lips and kissed the back of it. “Please, give Lady Norwick my condolences and your brother my greetings.”
Evangeline looked crestfallen as she watched the baron bow and leave the library. Having lost her ability to stand on her own, she settled back onto the leather couch, dropped her head into her hands, and wept.
Chapter 42
The Earl of Everly Returns
Harry Tennison, Earl of Everly, stepped down from the hackney and glanced up and down Park Lane before he regarded Rosemount House. Despite being gone for nearly six months, he felt a bit of satisfaction as he took in the clean, white exterior. The glass in the neat row of windows across the front gleamed as if it had been cleaned only that morning. The two columns holding up the portico above the front door were straight and appeared free of soot. The front door, a deep garnet, sported a polished lion’s head knocker.
The Story of a Baron (The Sisters of the Aristocracy) Page 21
