The Most Eligible Bride in London, page 8
The door to the room opened and closed. Perhaps he should have stayed away for another four years. But it was time he faced up to his misdeeds. At least now he knew he could live, and live well, in the country. In fact, he preferred it to Town. If only he hadn’t met Miss Stern, he’d probably flee back to Ouse Tower.
Padraig, who had been lying between the tub and the fireplace, shoved his head into Nate’s hand and, recognizing the command, he started stroking the dog. There was one being who didn’t care what had happened before. But he had to find a way to move past what he’d done and make amends to those he had harmed. And, possibly, gain permission to meet Miss Stern. The question was how.
* * *
Henrietta slid off her horse before the groom could help her down and dashed to the front door. Her small, round hat adorned with a long feather was most likely ruined. Her boots were fairly dry, but her habit was drenched.
The door opened as she approached, and Parkin grimaced as he bowed. “Is it worse than I think it is?”
“No, Miss Henrietta. There is just the matter of the red feather leaving some of its dye on your face.”
Lovely. She hoped it came off her as easily as it had come off the feather. She pulled out the hat-pin and removed the bonnet only to have red dye on her fingers as well. The hat, made of cork, looked as if it was still in good shape, but only time would tell. “I’m going to change.”
“Yes, miss.” He gazed pointedly down at the floor. For the first time she understood why Merton wished his butler was more stoic. She had not needed to know a puddle was forming at her feet.
Taking the stairs as quickly as she could, she rushed to her chamber. “Spyer, I am a mess.”
“That’s not surprising in the least. As soon as it started to rain I pulled out the tub and sent for hot water. Let’s get you out of those clothes.”
Henrietta held up the hat. “Do you think it can be saved?”
“Not the feather.” Her maid took the bonnet. “Go wash your hands and face. I hope it comes off.”
She went behind the screen and grabbed the soap. It took a little scrubbing, but soon the red dye was gone. By the time she was done, hot water was in the bathtub and she was starting to shiver. Spyer had Henrietta undressed in almost no time and into the hot water.
“I hope you don’t take a chill.”
“We almost made it. It only started to pour when we reached the entrance to the square.”
Spyer’s tightly closed lips indicated that she was not impressed. “Next time—and I assume there will be a next time—try to pay a little more attention to the weather.”
“I will. I hope I did not ruin my habit.” It was her favorite one.
“I’ll do what I can.” Her maid’s tone was not promising.
“Thank you.” It was not fashionable to thank servants, even senior staff, but her mother, the daughter of a duchess, maintained that being kind and respectful to servants prompted them to give better service, and she liked thanking people for their work. Everyone should be appreciated for doing a good job. Henrietta sank into the warm water.
“You’re welcome, Miss Henrietta. You know I will always do my best for you.”
“I do know it”—she smiled to herself—“and I do not know what I would do without you.”
“Well, pray God we never find out.” Her maid gave a rare sniff.
She really could not complain. The only time Spyer was put out was when she thought Henrietta had endangered her health. Coming back cold and wet was high on the list of things being dangerous to one’s health. “I will not tell you there is no need to be concerned. Although I do think that I was able to get warm before any damage was done.”
Two buckets of hot water later, Henrietta’s skin was a rosy shade of pink. Standing, she stepped into a warm towel. She would be fine. But she did worry about Dorie. Although she was surely receiving the same treatment as Henrietta. Shortly after her hair was dried and pinned up, she dressed in a light, woolen day dress and went down to the breakfast room.
CHAPTER NINE
When Henrietta arrived for breakfast, only Merton was there. “Is Dotty not feeling well?”
He finished chewing and swallowed. “It’s the baby again. I suggested she take her breakfast in her chamber, and she agreed.” He pulled a face. “Unfortunately, I was unsuccessful at convincing her she should remain in bed for the rest of the day.”
Poor Merton. He so much wanted to protect Dotty, and she would only allow a certain amount of coddling. “I’m sure she will be fine. This baby seems very different from the first one. Do you think it’s a sign of a boy?”
“It could be, but that means nothing to me if she is not well.” He picked up a piece of toast and frowned.
“Is there anyone you could ask?” Maybe being around one of his friends who had gone through this would help him.
He stared at Henrietta as if she were an aberration. “That’s an excellent idea. Kenilworth and Rothwell will be in Town soon. I’ll visit them when they arrive.” He frowned again. “I am right that Louisa had a boy, am I not?”
“Yes.” Henrietta hid her smile. “In December.”
“I thought Thea had mentioned it. It’s the off year when I have trouble keeping track of everyone.”
That confused Henrietta until she remembered that every other year Louisa and the Worthington family spent Christmas together, and last year everyone remained at their own homes. Dotty and Merton joined in the rota because the gathering was always at Stanwood House, Grace Worthington’s family home, which was close to Dotty and Henrietta’s family. But Henrietta wondered if they would go there this year; Charlie, Earl of Stanwood, would still be on his Grand Tour. She gave herself a shake. Her close and extended family was growing by the year. Not a month ago, her friend, Adeline Littleton, had given birth to twins, a boy and a girl. Dorie had a baby, and Georgie would have one this year. Of the five of them, only Henrietta and Augusta were not filling their nurseries. But at least Augusta was married.
Henrietta nibbled on a piece of toast. Stupidly, she had not thought it would affect her that her friends were all married, but she was definitely starting to feel left out. Of course, none of them purposely spent less time with her, but they had their own families. Had she been too hasty in rejecting the offers she received last Season? She speared a piece of her baked egg. No, none of them had been the right gentleman. And marrying simply to wed and have a family was not the answer. Not for her. Her mind drifted to the gentleman with the dog. Would he be the right one? He had not seemed to think it strange that she was rescuing children. And as it was something she was determined to continue to do after she married, any husband she had would have to agree.
Merton stood. “I must be off.”
“Have a good day.” She finished eating and went to the library. The room was almost two stories high with a balcony that went around the upper floor, and a spiral staircase connecting the balcony to the ground floor. Books dating back centuries could be found, and they were all shelved by subject and author. Two large fireplaces were kept lit, warming the room, until late in the evening because Merton, Dotty, Henrietta, and the Dowager Lady Merton when she was in residence frequented the room on a regular basis. Henrietta found a book she had loathed when she was still in the schoolroom a few years before written by Ovid, in Greek. Her father did not believe that ladies should be taught less than gentlemen. Which meant that in addition to all the things she and her sisters had to learn to be proper ladies, they also had to study Latin, Greek, and the higher maths. She remembered an argument she’d had with her sister, attempting to maintain that men did not want intelligent and educated females. It had not taken long for Henrietta to be proven wrong. At least about any gentleman she would want to wed.
She curled up in a large, brown velvet chair and opened the book, which had become an old friend. About a half hour later a tea tray arrived with slices of lemon cake and two ginger biscuits. The footman had entered the room and left before the scents reached her nose. She poured a cup of tea, selected a biscuit, and got lost in the story again.
“Miss,” Parkin said rather loudly. “A letter from Exeter House has arrived for you.”
“Thank you.” She held out her hand for the missive, written on finely pressed paper.
Placing the book on a small, round cherry table next to the chair, she popped open the seal.
My dearest Henrietta,
I had my groom follow “the gentleman.” He turned onto Charles Street and into the mews, and stopped at the first stables. According to my map, that puts him at Forty Grosvenor Street. That house has been occupied by the Fotherby family since it was built. I trust this information is helpful.
Yr. devoted friend,
D.
“Oh, God.” Henrietta covered her eyes and groaned. “It needed only this. Why is it that the only gentleman who has interested me at all abducted my sister?”
She closed the book. Even Ovid would not be able to distract her now. She supposed she should forget about Lord Fotherby. After all, they had not even been properly introduced. She munched on a ginger cookie, swallowed, and took a sip of tea. He must have been a truly horrid person. But the gentleman she had met was in no way objectionable. On the contrary, he had been extremely helpful and polite. And he had not judged her actions. What was it Merton had said?
It was Thea’s idea to allow his mother to deal with him, and Lady Fotherby decreed he was to be banished to the country until he learned his lesson and gained sufficient maturity to be let loose again.
Therefore, if Lord Fotherby—even if it was the wrong name, it was nice to have a name for him—was in Town, presumably his mother had decided he had changed sufficiently. That would explain his clothing and the dog, and the way he’d behaved toward her. Merton had also mentioned that his cousin had not liked him at the time he’d met her sister. Had Merton changed? If so, perhaps he would acknowledge that Lord Fotherby had changed as well. Still, if she was not to have anything to do with him, how would she find out? She reviewed the conversation again. No one had actually said she could not dance with him. Of course, no one knew he was in Town. Perhaps this might be one of those cases where it was easier to get forgiveness than permission. If, that was, she could find someone to introduce them. She glanced at Dorie’s letter again. A meeting might already be planned.
* * *
Nate finished dressing and went to the breakfast room, Padraig at his heel. He was surprised to find his mother already there. “Good morning. You are up early.”
“Good morning, dear. I have a great deal to do today.” She folded the newssheet she’d been reading and placed it on the table by her elbow. “Are you feeling better today?”
“Yes.” He should ask her about the duchess, but first he needed food and tea.
“The bacon is particularly good this morning.” Mama cut a piece of the bacon. “I think Cook must have found a new supplier.”
Stepping over to the sideboard, he lifted the lid on the first tray and found poached eggs. He took two, then found the bacon, added some ham, and went back to the table. A fresh rack of toast had just been brought in, and his mother handed him a cup of tea.
“What are your plans for today?” she asked.
“I was going to visit one or two of my clubs, but I went riding this morning and my boots are soaked. The pair I ordered from Hoby have not yet arrived, and I don’t want to ruin my shoes, so I’m staying home.” He cut an egg and dipped a piece of toast in it. “Do you have plans for the day?”
“I have an appointment with my modiste.” She sipped her tea. “When do you expect to receive more footwear?”
“Soon. If nothing has arrived by this afternoon, I’ll have Styles look into it.” He finished the toast and took another. “Mama, what was the Duchess of Bristol doing here last evening, and why did the two of you attempt to mislead me as to her identity?”
His mother had just taken another sip of tea and quickly held a serviette to her lips. “I would not say that we misled you.”
If not misleading, Nate would like to know what she called it. He raised a brow. “Indeed?”
“Quite.” His mother matched his look with a completely unrepentant one of her own. “We lied to you quite purposefully.”
This time Nate almost spewed the tea from this mouth. “Good Lord, why?”
“Well, you see, she was the one who approached me after you had the poor sense to abduct her granddaughter. I surmised from your description of the lady you met that it was Henrietta Stern.” Now he had a name. Henrietta was a strong name, and it suited her. “I decided if you were to have any sort of opportunity to be introduced to the young lady, it might be helpful to approach her grandmother. Fortunately, we have been friends for many years, and in my letters to her I mentioned your progress.”
He’d had no idea his mother could be so devious. “In effect, you came up with the lie together?”
“Not precisely.” She picked up her cup again. “The duchess wished to meet you. And she decided to use one of her late husband’s minor titles.”
“So that I would not know who she was.” No wonder he’d felt as if his life was out of his control. A duchess, of all people, was meddling in it.
“Yes.” His mother took a sip of tea and set it down, then proceeded to twist the cup around on the saucer. “If it makes any difference, she formed an excellent opinion of you.”
Nate pinched the bridge of his nose. He had spent the last four years learning to stand on his own two feet. To direct the course his life would take. And even though his mother and the duchess obviously had his best interests at heart, he did not want to be handled, and he had the feeling they were more than capable of doing just that. Then again, he did not wish to be perverse. He might—hell, he would—require their help even to gain an introduction to Henrietta Stern. And that was assuming she would have anything to do with him. Although, from the way she had acted after he had assisted her, he was certain there was something—an attraction—between them. Yet, he didn’t for a moment doubt that when Merton or her sister discovered he was in Town, they would warn her against him. It amazed him that the Duchess of Bristol had considered meeting him at all. And that must have been the reason for the subterfuge. If she had found him lacking, he would have been none the wiser.
“Fotherby, do you have nothing to say?” His mother sounded concerned.
“I am not quite sure what to say.” He wished he’d not so thoroughly complicated his life. The desire to return home was stronger than ever. Then again, so was his desire to properly meet Miss Stern. “We only met once and the meeting did not last long.” Although, he would like to get to know her better. Nay, he was determined to know her better.
“You could forget about Miss Stern and look for another lady.” His mother’s nose wrinkled. “I am sure I could find you a lady with some of the characteristics you want.”
He could not imagine any other lady with her bravery. “I could return to Ouse Tower.” But did he truly wish to run home? Because that would be exactly what he would be doing. Running away from anyone who knew of his wrongdoing, and from a lady he might want to wed. “I simply wish the situation was not so problematical.”
“You have at least one thing in common.” He raised a brow. How could she possibly know he and Miss Stern had anything in common? “You both put yourselves forward to help others.”
Mama was right about that. “I suppose we do.”
She placed her serviette next to her plate and rose, prompting him to stand. “Give it some thought. You do not have to do anything today.”
“I shall. Thank you for your assistance.”
“I am always glad to help you.” A wrinkle creased her still-smooth forehead. “If you are able, I would like you to escort me to Lady Thornhill’s drawing room in two days’ time.”
He’d never been to one of her ladyship’s drawing rooms. Before, he had considered the entertainment a hotbed of radicalism. He even remembered how appalled he’d been when Merton mentioned attending. Of its own volition, one corner of his mouth rose. He’d finally get to see why it was so disdained in Tory circles. “I would be delighted.”
“Oh, I am glad.” His mother smiled. “I think you will enjoy yourself. There are, naturally, any number of artists who attend, but also inventors.”
New inventions always interested him. Attending would also give him another way to ease himself back into the ton than attending one of his clubs. Nate inclined his head. “I look forward to it.”
The wolfhound had opened one eye, but when he went back to his seat, Padraig shut it again. After this morning’s exercise, he’d probably sleep most of the day. Nate finished his breakfast, then headed to his study. A packet from Ouse Tower had arrived yesterday. By now his secretary would have sorted through it. When he entered the room he was pleased to see three neat stacks of letters. The first for bills, the second, and smallest, from tenants, and the third regular correspondence. One letter was placed in the middle of his desk. He picked it up and shook it out.
To Viscount Fotherby,
We thought you might like to know that we arrived home safely, and Emily and little John are doing well and already putting on some much-needed flesh.
Yr. Servant,
Odell
Nate grinned to himself. Little had given him more pleasure than helping to find Emily and her son. He opened the center drawer, tucked the letter away, and started on the bills. When he was finished, his mind strayed back to the day he’d arrived in Town. The other thing in which he’d been more than happy to assist was rescuing the baby. He would like to help fund the effort as well. He dipped his pen in the standish and started to write a cheque, then realized that all of his cheques now had his name printed on them. That wouldn’t do at all. He wasn’t ready for his former friend to know he was in Town. He’d have to have his secretary take the funds to them. He wrote a cheque for Chetwin to draw the funds from the bank. Nate also needed money for the household account. He wrote another cheque.
