Augusta wasn’t certain what Miss Shrope’s connection was with Muriel’s husband or why it should cause her to feel ill at ease. Had there been some hint of scandal associated with them?
“She’s told me everything.” Miss Shrope’s soft confession was nearly inaudible, as well as cryptic.
“Everything?” Augusta kept her gaze focused on the newcomer, knowing she could not be telling the truth. Muriel was the most cautious of the siblings and would certainly not confide in a stranger.
“About what you have in mind for His Grace.” Miss Shrope glanced about once again. “Muriel asked me to make myself known to her siblings and be of aid if I felt I could.”
“And do you”—Augusta felt compelled to inquire—“feel as if you could, that is?”
“Oh, yes,” she continued, wide-eyed. “I have already introduced Lord Brent to Miss Davies-Holmes, whose mother, Lady Davies-Holmes, is so very agreeable.”
“Is she?” Lady Davies-Holmes was not known to Augusta. She thought it might be prudent to seek out an introduction.
“Miss Tabbitha Davies-Holmes, you must understand, is not one who is greatly accomplished, or has any type of exceptional beauty or wealth, or family connections, although theirs is a respected name.”
“I see.” Could it be that Freddie’s contenders were actually Muriel’s passed on by Miss Shrope? It could very well be. Muriel must not have thought their brother capable of finding a suitable bride for their father.
“Tabbitha’s mother is most agreeable and quite a conversationalist. She is particularly well-read on a variety of subjects, but she is not outspoken and keeps her opinions to herself. An overall superior choice, if I may say so.”
“I beg your pardon, ladies.” A tall, dark-haired, handsome gentleman made a gracious bow before them. “I wish to pay my respects.”
“Lord Fieldstone, we meet again!” Augusta recalled his lordship very well. This gentleman had been one of the top contenders on her suitor list many years ago.
“I must admit I am much surprised to see you here, Lady Augusta.” He bowed over her hand and then Miss Shrope’s, intoning his gratification at seeing her again. As she recalled, he had always been on the more serious side.
“I am delighted you have sought me out.” Augusta thought him as charming and handsome as ever.
“If you will recall, you promised me a dance next we met.” He pulled his attention from Miss Shrope and met Augusta’s gaze.
“I thought that was to be at Almack’s?” She could have sworn that was what they had promised one another.
“I do not think I will allow that small detail to prevent me from seeking my prize. It has been many years, you must own. Far too long to expect me to adhere to such limitations. Come now, my lady.” He offered her his arm. “It is not as if dancing would cause a scandal.”
“Of course, sir.” What surprised Augusta was that he had remembered at all. He’d made her that promise five years ago. She accepted his escort and placed her gloved hand upon his sleeve.
“I beg you excuse us, Miss Shrope.” The edges of his mouth lifted in a hint of a smile.
“Of course, your lordship.” She cast her gaze downward, displaying the attractive fan of her eyelashes upon her cheek, and curtsied.
He led Augusta toward the dance floor and stole a look at her companion. As Augusta recalled, she had only seen Viscount Fieldstone smile once before. The small grin he currently displayed, she would be willing to wager, was not one meant for her.
The floral display in Mrs. Raley’s hair, as it turned out, contained some hothouse flower that emitted a delicate fragrance. Lilac, if Edward were not mistaken. Moving about the perimeter of the room consigned to traffic that moved in a counterclockwise motion had brought the scent to his attention.
“I thank you, Your Grace,” she said with a touch of softness in her voice.
“I can’t imagine why you would thank me. I have done nothing except have the good fortune of your company.”
“You really are too kind,” she demurred. “You see…Lady Kimball’s husband Sir William is—was—a friend of my husband’s. She has taken it upon herself to draw me out of my townhouse and encouraged me to circulate.”
“And so you should. You have observed the rules for mourning long enough. Life continues beyond the walls of your townhouse. I am glad you have joined us. You will be too, once you become accustomed.” He glanced at his companion. Mrs. Raley seemed to brighten after his comment.
“I own I do not know a single guest in attendance.” She clung to his arm while glancing about.
“It will take time, dear lady. You cannot know the whole of London in a single day, nor even an evening.” The Duke patted her gloved hand. “I encourage you to be brave and make your best effort.”
“Yes, of course, I shall. I daresay Lady Kimball was correct, attending a party or two might be just the thing for me.”
“I must confess that Lady Kimball is usually right, but do not tell her I said so,” Edward admitted. “I shall never hear the end of it. She’ll insist I live my life by her direction, and that I cannot allow.”
“Oh, no. That would not do at all. She would not dare dictate to you, would she?” Mrs. Raley’s alarm seemed heartfelt.
“I cannot say if she would, but I daresay she might.” He laughed, making light of the topic to make his companion feel at ease. Edward found it easy to feign interest with Mrs. Raley. No, he need not pretend to enjoy her company; he genuinely did so.
Augusta stood at the head of the line, being one half of the out couple, waiting her time to return to the dance. She took this opportunity to search the guests for sight of her brother or her father.
There was Freddie in his evening dress, displaying his best manners while standing with a young lady. But Augusta knew it was the girl’s mother where his true interest lay. And not far from Freddie was Papa, taking a turn about the room with the young widow Mrs. Raley.
Oh, how they smiled and laughed! By Mrs. Raley’s expression, she appeared to be enjoying herself, and even more unbearably, Papa seemed to take pleasure in her company as well.
Augusta could not like that. Aunt Mary had quickly found someone with whom to tempt His Grace. It had been only a few days since her aunt had come up with the idea of finding the Duke a bride. There was nothing at the moment Augusta could do to discourage them, but her aunts did not know better than she. Augusta wished to be the one to find her father’s new wife.
“My lady, my lady!” It was not her dancing partner but another gentleman who called out to bring Augusta out of her reverie.
“I beg your pardon,” she returned and looked toward Lord Fieldstone, who, gazing into the crowd of guests, also seemed to be woolgathering during their dancing respite. “We begin again, my lord Fieldstone!”
It took him a moment to regain his senses. “My apologies.” He stepped back in line, faced Augusta, and resumed dancing.
What was he about? Augusta had never seen him behave in such a capricious manner. The Viscount was normally very attentive. She shared with him only one dance, and after that it did not matter.
There was, however, her father she needed to consider. In the interim, when the gentlemen stepped away, leaving the ladies idle for a half measure, she glimpsed her parent, who still appeared to be enjoying his company.
Not to worry, Augusta told herself, raising her right arm to form a star with the three other ladies. When Papa discovered exactly who Mrs. Raley was, he’d run.
“May I ask you a personal question?” Edward had managed to corner his son after Frederick had completed his dance with Miss Davies-Holmes and left her company.
“Personal, you say?” Frederick glanced over his father’s shoulder, apparently unable to tear his gaze from the young lady who stood with her mother across the room.
“I did, indeed.” Edward gazed at his son with such intensity and remained quiet until Frederick focused on none but his father.
“What is it?” The corner of Fred
erick’s eyes crinkled in question. “You may ask me anything, of course.”
“I do not wish to come across as indelicate, but may I ask what the true reason is for your acquaintance with Miss Davies-Holmes?”
“What other reason can I have except the pleasure of her company?” This was said with genuine earnestness as far as the Duke could tell.
“And what is it about Miss Davies-Holmes that you find so pleasurable?” The Duke had never detected a smattering of interest between the two. There were no verbal exchanges, no smiles, no laughter. Edward doubted if Frederick even gazed upon the girl while in her company.
“Well…” Frederick paused. “To be honest, it is not precisely Miss Davies-Holmes who holds my interest but her mother.”
“Lady Davies-Holmes?” Edward had no words to express his shock. He finally said, “Are you quite mad?”
“Mad? No.” Frederick appeared affronted by Edward’s reaction. “You misunderstand.”
Edward sincerely hoped so. Lady Davies-Holmes was at least twice his son’s age.
“Do you not see how my lady conducts herself?” Frederick placed his hand upon his father’s shoulder, turning him in the direction where Lady Davies-Holmes stood. “Her bearing, her manners, see how easily she converses with those around her? Did you not find that to be so, yourself?”
Edward thought her a pleasant enough woman, an apt conversationalist, a thoughtful companion, to be sure. “And what of Miss Davies-Holmes?”
“That’s it completely, don’t you see?”
“No, Frederick, I do not,” the Duke stated directly.
“Will not Miss Davies-Holmes someday bloom into the generous woman that her mother represents?” Frederick gushed with optimism.
The boy was a thick-headed jackanapes.
Edward closed his eyes and inhaled, willing himself to remain calm and quiet. He did not wish to cause a scene among the many guests. “You have three sisters, none of whom resemble your mother’s temperament in the least. Perhaps in their appearance but not attributes nor abilities.” Edward turned from his son and mumbled, “Daughters resembling their mothers…how could anyone make such an inaccurate assumption?”
“But Lady Davies-Holmes…do you not find her agreeable?”
“My opinion of the lady is irrelevant. Unless your intention is to marry the mother.”
“Me? Oh, no, sir.” Frederick straightened, catching himself after the shock of his father’s pronouncement.
“Very well.” The Duke straightened. There would be no future involvement on his part. As well intentioned as his son was, it occurred to Edward that Frederick might be too young to contemplate marriage. “Let us have no more talk of Miss Davies-Holmes and her mother, shall we? I will consider your—our—association with them to be at an end.”
CHAPTER TEN
The next morning, Edward finished signing the letters he’d drafted the day before and set them aside for the ink to dry. He had gone through the morning invitations, accepting some, declining others, and, with some trepidation, deferred some decisions to Augusta and Frederick.
“The information on the properties you’ve asked for has arrived, Your Grace. I have it for you here.” Abernathy placed a thick packet, bound with string, before him. “If you require further details I recommend sending one of your stewards for a more objective opinion.”
“I’m having second thoughts about a wedding gift for Frederick, Abernathy.” Edward untied the packet and removed the papers, uncurling the mass before pulling them apart for easier perusal.
“Are you, sir?”
“As diligent as Frederick seems to be about marriage, it is apparent to me that his enthusiasm outweighs his ability to choose a bride.” Edward commended his son for confronting the task of duty and responsibility that he would someday inherit. The Duke simply did not believe his son was quite ready.
“Will you refuse consent on his match?”
“I doubt there is to be one.” There was no discerning a preference for a single lady as far as Edward could tell. None Frederick courted at present met with his approval. “Although…I suspect the challenge of running an estate might be an alternate, and perhaps a more fitting, undertaking for him.”
“He would certainly learn responsibility,” Abernathy added. “Or perhaps, a bit of charity, if he had tenants who needed care.”
“Just so.” The slow nod of Edward’s head relayed his approval. Frederick might not be ready for marriage. However, dealing with an estate and managing property could not be a lesson too early for him to learn. He needed a project to focus his attention else he risked the temptation of idleness and vice. Edward focused his attention on the papers before him. “Let us see if we can find something for him, shall we?”
The Duke read the summary regarding the first property. Located near Chulmleigh, Devonshire, Norham Court was a three-story structure, needing some repair, which included a stone entrance portico and a grand entrance hall. There were two principal reception rooms and eleven suites. An oak staircase connected the floors. Original oak paneling and large carved sandstone fireplaces occupied many rooms. The large windows, with many stained-glass insets, overlooked the grounds with two large lakes, parklands, and woodlands.
“This Elizabethan residence seems a bit too old and the castle which they note requires some repair, I would guess, in truth, needs major repair.” Edward placed the remaining pages regarding that property aside. “There’s no need to discourage the lad with a task that might overwhelm him.”
“Your interpretation is most insightful, sir.” Abernathy eased himself into a chair near the small table where he kept his satchel and sorted through the many papers that lay within.
Edward continued to the next property, which was located near Millfield, Staffordshire. Bamber Park was a Jacobean stone-built country house with three reception rooms, five principal bedrooms, five second-floor bedrooms, manicured gardens, and paddocks, and it sat on fifty-three acres in a remote area.
“This is a bit too small and too isolated for what I’m thinking.” Edward tapped the page with his finger. He would like Frederick’s estate to be more than just a residence on a plot of land. All information regarding the Staffordshire property was set aside.
The final property was located near Huddlesford, Cumberland. Edward approved of the location, far from Faraday Hall in Essex.
Penshaw Manor House, built a scant hundred years earlier, was agricultural with multiple farm buildings and sported an estate with twenty-three cottages. The house had nine suites with the majority of principal rooms facing south overlooking the valley below. The entire estate extended approximately 864 acres, compromised of farmlands, woodlands, formal gardens on the estate grounds, and seven outbuildings.
Edward rubbed his jaw in contemplation. He liked the sound of this property. “Let us send Mr. Kittredge to investigate Penshaw Manor and the surrounding area for an unbiased opinion, shall we?”
“It’s an excellent idea, Your Grace.” Abernathy wrote upon his notepad. “I shall have your steward dispatched at once. Is there anything else you need this morning, sir?”
“Yes, there is.” Edward paused. There was one last item he had been curious about. He took up a pencil and pulled a sheet of paper to sketch a map. After labeling a few surrounding streets, he indicated the townhouse he had visited with a large X and handed it to his man. “Would you discover who owns this residence?”
Abernathy’s dark brows rose over his widening eyes as he regarded the map. “As you wish, Your Grace.”
“Thank you. That will be all.” Edward leaned back in his chair, feeling a bit uncomfortable with this last step he’d taken. This wasn’t exactly spying on the residence where he met the lady gardener. He merely wished to sate his curiosity as to who lived at that address.
There was nothing for it. Louise had accepted Lady Augusta’s invitation for tea that afternoon. She could not refuse at the last minute, especially after her friend was kind enough to send a
carriage to convey her to Worth House.
Stepping inside the Duke of Faraday’s London abode, Louise’s expectations fell by the wayside, as the establishment was far grander than she could ever imagine.
“Lady Vernon!” Augusta greeted her with outstretched, welcoming arms. “How very good it is to see you.”
“It truly has been an age.” Their reunion was genuinely heartfelt. Louise’s emotions wavered from joy at seeing Augusta to dread that increased with every passing minute in anticipation of her father’s unexpected arrival.
“It is so very good to see you. Please, come in and let us be seated.” Augusta drew Louise by her arm to the front parlor.
“Look at you, you are a married woman.” Louise could hardly believe she was in Augusta’s company once again. She appeared healthy and content with her new life.
“Of some years, now.” Augusta eased onto the striped sofa, guiding her friend to sit by her side.
“And you are a mother. How are Sarah and Michael?” Naturally she had not brought her children to Town with her.
“They are well. Their father and I adore them.” Augusta’s entire demeanor told of her happy home life. “And how are you going along?”
“Splendidly.” Louise was past marriage and children. “I have my friends, my book club, my garden.”
“Your garden!” A breathtaking smile blossomed on Augusta’s face. “You must promise that you will have me visit. I recall the most wonderful sight of the blooms and intoxicating fragrances.”
“I’m afraid you will be sorely disappointed.”
“Why is that?”
“The weather is not cooperating, I fear. There are no flowers.”
“None at all?” Augusta’s brows drew together in disbelief.
“Not a one. Not even a hint of a bud.” Louise vividly recalled the day Augusta came into her garden. The astonishment on her face on finding a place in the city that harbored greenery that rivaled some houses in the country.
“I cannot even imagine your once-lush garden in such a state.”
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