Louisa, Rothwell, and Mama were already in the drawing room when Lucinda entered.
“You look lovely.” Her mother beamed with delight. “I must say, Louisa, that the modiste you chose is extremely talented.”
Louisa caught Lucinda’s eye and grinned. “Thank you, but I cannot take any credit at all for finding her. Lady Rutherford gave my brother the recommendation. Madam Lisette has become quite popular in the past few years.”
“With her way of making a lady look her best, I can understand the reason why.” Mama beamed at Lucinda again. Probably thinking about her upcoming betrothal.
Rothwell was standing by the fireplace, leaving the seat next to his wife empty, so Lucinda sat on the sofa next to Louisa.
Keeping her voice low, Lucinda asked, “Have you told my mother about Lady Bellamny’s party?”
“I have.” Her sister-in-law nodded. “The dinner shall be held at another time. I also suggested that meeting Quorndon at tea might not be as awkward.”
At least tea did not last as long as a dinner would. “I assume you attended Lady Bellamny’s party last year. What was it like?”
Before Louisa could answer, her brother’s butler, Fredericks, announced Earl Elliott. The name still sounded strange to Lucinda, but the gentleman did not look odd at all. He was as tall as her brother and broad shouldered. His rich mahogany hair was fashionably styled, curling a little at the ends, and his deep blue eyes twinkled with good humor.
He was dressed in the same mode as Rothwell, in a well-cut dark blue jacket and snowy cravat, but unlike her brother, who preferred dark waistcoats, Lord Elliott’s white and yellow striped waistcoat was embroidered with flowers, giving him a less serious demeanor. His pantaloons molded to his legs, and one could see one’s reflection in his boots.
Clearly the man engaged in enough exercise to not require padding. But what drew her eye was the indentation in his cheek when he smiled. It enthralled her, and it made him look…adorable.
“Elliott.” Her brother strode forward to greet the man. “Welcome.”
“Thank you for inviting me. London has been thin of company until this week.” He shook Rothwell’s hand before turning to Louisa, who had risen, stepped forward, and held out her hand. “Your grace.” He bowed and touched her fingers. “I hope I find you in good health.”
“You do, Elliott. It is good to see you.”
“And your daughter?”
“She is in what I can only call rude, good health.” Louisa motioned to Mama. “Your grace, may I introduce Lord Elliott to you? Elliott, my mother-in-law.”
The tight smile from earlier appeared on Mama’s mien. “A pleasure to meet you, my lord. I believe I met your father several years ago.”
“Very possible, ma’am. He was in Town a great deal.” He bowed, but she did not offer her hand. Had she taken him in dislike? And if so, why? He seemed perfectly presentable.
Louisa turned to Lucinda. “Lady Lucinda, may I introduce Lord Elliott to you? He has been a friend of Rothwell’s for many years, and has been a friend to me and my sisters as well. Elliott, my sister, Lady Lucinda Hughlot.”
She dipped a shallow curtsey and held out her hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you, my lord.”
He bowed, and when he took her fingers his touch warmed them, even through his gloves. “It is a great honor, my lady. I hope you enjoy your Season.”
“I intend to do just that, my lord.” She smiled at him, and when he smiled back, the dimple appeared again. How very handsome he was.
Fredericks supervised the footmen, who brought in the tea trays. Unlike tea at home, this one included both small and larger sandwiches, as well as biscuits and cream tarts. Louisa poured, and Lucinda handed out the tea-cups. When she glanced at Mama, her lips were as pursed as if she had sucked on a lemon.
Rothwell took two of the larger sandwiches, prompting Lucinda to ask, “Would you prefer the beef and cheddar, or the egg salad, my lord?”
“Beef and cheddar, please.” She placed two biscuits and a tart on Earl Elliott’s plate.
“My lord,” Louisa said. “Please tell me what has been going on in Parliament.”
He cast a swift look at Lucinda. “We are mainly dealing with the accounts, and some personal bills. The real work will start next week, after Easter.”
She had the feeling that something was not being discussed because she was present. What a bother it was to be an unmarried young lady. “How long have you been in Town, my lord?”
“Since this session started, about two months ago.” He grinned. He seemed to smile easily. “Someone must keep up with it. Although, I suppose once I have a family I shall be like Rothwell and come to Town in my own good time.”
Her brother sputtered and objected, and Louisa laughed. Even Mama seemed to relax.
Despite what Rothwell had said, Lucinda saw no reason to ignore Lord Elliott as a prospect. He had made a good first impression. She wondered what Lord Quorndon would be like.
Lady Lucinda was…beautiful. Glossy, chestnut curls framed her oval face, but what drew Gerald were her sea green eyes. They reminded him of the ocean in autumn. Not only was she much lovelier than he had expected, but when her grace turned the conversation to politics, she was knowledgeable, and interested in what was going on, and warm. Even the touch of her fingers seemed to please him.
The dowager duchess looked none too happy about the conversation, but that was most likely because young ladies were often told not to let a gentleman know how bright they truly were.
Gerald had always thought that was ridiculous. Gentlemen who wanted a stupid or only moderately clever lady would be unhappy when, after they wed, they discovered they had been deceived by a female who was more intelligent than they thought she was…Likewise, a lady should not have to suffer a man who could not appreciate her talents.
Rothwell was wise to watch carefully any gentleman who expressed an interest in her. Especially a man such as Quorndon, who did not appear to care very much who he married.
Gerald brought his thoughts back to the conversation that the new Duchess of Rothwell—he’d almost called her Lady Louisa—was most defiantly directing.
“Your grace, will we see your sisters and mother here this Season?”
“I assume you mean will Merton, Kenilworth, Worthington, and Wolverton be in Town to take up their duties in the Lords.” She smiled. “Yes. Fortunately, my brother’s house is ready for the children, which will allow my mother and Wolverton to move into Stanwood House. Do not look to the ladies to be gadding about Town very much.” She shrugged one shoulder. “We all have new babies to care for. I shall be delighted to see my family again.”
The dowager duchess’s expression tightened even more. Was her grace not supposed to have mentioned the new additions to the families, or did she not approve of ladies caring for their children?
“I shall be happy to see all of them as well.” The duchess’s sister, and her friend, Lady Merton, livened up any event they attended. “When do they arrive?”
“Tomorrow and the day after. I have planned a family dinner. You are most welcome to take your potluck with us, if you would like.”
Gerald had begun to decline when Rothwell said, “Yes, that would be perfect. You are a good friend to us all and can round out the numbers.”
“Not to mention bring everyone up to date on Parliament.” Louisa cast a teasing look at Rothwell.
The dowager duchess’s mien turned to stone. Lady Lucinda’s head swiveled between her brother, her sister-in-law, and her mother as if she expected something to happen.
If the dowager duchess wanted Quorndon for her daughter, Gerald was never going to be a favorite with the woman. But Lucinda promised to be an interesting young lady. Not only that, but he had vowed to her brother that he would befriend her and help take care of her. What better way to begin than by joining a family event. “I’d be delighted. Thank you for inviting me.”
A few minutes later, Rothwell and her grace exchanged glances, and Gerald decided it was time to take his leave. He rose and bowed. “Your graces, again, welcome back to Town. Your grace,”—he bowed to the dowager duchess—“a pleasure. Lady Lucinda, it was delightful meeting you. I hope your Season is everything you wish it to be.”
“I’ll walk you out,” Rothwell said, rising. He shut the door behind him. “Thank you for coming.”
They were almost to the hall when Gerald said, “Your mother did not appear at all happy to see me.”
“She will not be happy to see any gentleman who pays attention to Lucinda. Except for Quorndon, of course.” When they reached the hall, he waved the butler away. “Mama did not wish to come to Town, and I believe she has seized onto an old friend’s son—whom the old friend wishes to see wed—as a way of quickly dispatching her duties.”
“That’s not very fair to your sister.” In fact, it was a deemed shabby thing to do.
“I agree.” Rothwell gave a frustrated sigh. “Unfortunately, I do not see how I can stop my mother from making the match.”
Gerald wasn’t about to put himself in the middle of a family situation. “Thank you, again, for tea. I look forward to dinner. At some point, I would like to make the acquaintance of your daughter.”
Rothwell’s worried expression relaxed. “She is beautiful. I am told it’s too early to know, but I believe she will favor Louisa.”
“In that case, I do not envy you in another eighteen years.”
Rothwell barked a laugh. “I suppose I shall be as bad—or worse—with her than I am with my sister, or Worthington was with his.”
“No doubt you will.” Gerald would make sure he was present, if only for the entertainment.
Rothwell shook Gerald’s hand. “Louisa will send an invitation once everything has been set.”
He walked down the steps, intending to go back to his rooms, but took a hackney to Covent Garden, where he spent several minutes selecting a posy of flowers. Once he was satisfied, he took another hackney to his house on Mount Street.
The door opened as he walked up the steps, and his butler bowed. “My lord.”
“Good day, Collins. Is her ladyship at home?”
“No, my lord. She is drinking tea with Mrs. Millcombe.”
Gerald held out the flowers. “Put these in water, and give her these when she returns, with my regards.”
“May I ask what the occasion is, my lord?” Collins took the flowers and handed them to a footman.
“Tell her they are from her dutiful son.” After their last argument, Gerald would let her ponder that puzzle.
The door closed behind him as he walked down the steps. His mother might aggravate him about the house—although that was most likely because she wanted to see him married—but she had never attempted to match make, and for that he was grateful to her.
The more he thought about it, the sorrier he felt for Lady Lucinda. There was nothing unusual about an arranged marriage, but to allow a young lady to look forward to her coming out and then take the pleasure of a Season away from her was mean spirited. Not only that, but Quorndon was much too sure of himself if he thought Lady Lucinda would have nothing to say about the proposed match.
Gerald laughed to himself. He would do his best to make sure the lady had plenty of choice.
He tried to shrug off the little voice inside of him saying that he must keep his eyes open. He had already decided to do that. This year, he would recognize the lady immediately.
Still, he should most likely think about what he would like in a wife. All the ladies he had been attracted to were intelligent. Late last year, he’d visited Harrington and his wife in Paris and been told how she had successfully kept their horses from being stolen. Lady Charlotte, now Lady Kenilworth, and her friend, Lady Merton, ran a charity for children who had been abducted and searched for their families. Rothwell’s duchess had helped him turn his finances around.
Yes, his future wife must be intelligent and strong-willed. He would like help running his estates. She should be able to discuss politics, and literature, and all matter of other things.
Gerald would like her to be well-looking, but what was more important was passion. He couldn’t marry a lady for whom he felt nothing. Was that the problem? He had admired his friends’ wives—belatedly—and wished he’d chosen them, but had he felt any passion for them?
He was almost to Jermyn Street when he finally decided he had not. They were all beautiful, but he had not wanted to bed one of them. That was disconcerting. He’d been sure he would know the lady he was meant to wed when he saw her. But what if he didn’t?
A hand grabbed his shoulder, jerking him back. “Elliott, watch where you’re going. You almost stepped in front of that carriage.”
He glanced at his old friend. “Featherton, thank you. I must have been deep in thought.”
“Well, you need to keep some wits about you if you’re going to walk the streets.” His hand dropped. “Are you going to your rooms?”
“Yes.” Gerald glanced around, seeing that he was only one street over from where he resided. “Yes, I am.”
“I’ll accompany you, shall I? I must attend to some business before I drive my sister around the Park.”
Featherton lived in the building next to Gerald’s, and they frequently came across each other. “Is she just out?”
A hackney rattled by, splashing mud that nearly hit his boots. Even though it rained a great deal in England, he’d never seen it so wet. The only good thing to say about it was that the rain washed away the soot and dirt.
“No, it’s her second Season. No rush about marrying though. My parents want her to choose wisely.” His friend grinned. “By next week, she won’t have time for her poor brother.”
He wished Lady Lucinda’s mother wanted the same for her. “Have you given any thought to marrying?”
“I am not yet ready, and my father is not pressing me. However, I do not expect that to last much longer. Are you thinking of finding a wife?”
He and Featherton were of an age, but his friend had a healthy father and would not assume the title for many years. “Yes. I promised myself I would find a bride this Season.”
“I understand. You hold the title and need an heir.” They reached the corner of Jermyn Street and turned. “And so many of our friends have married.”
That was an understatement. “Huntley and Wivenly are the only ones, aside from us, who are not wed.”
Featherton laughed. “I think they will be the last of us to wear a leg-shackle.”
“I wouldn’t be at all surprised. One does wonder what type of lady would entice either of them to the altar.”
Gerald wondered what type of woman would make him decide to start a family. Whoever she was, he needed to meet her soon.