Early the next morning, Lady Lucinda, her cheeks infused with color after a gallop, reined in next to Gerald. The weather was still cool, but the sky was clear, promising a lovely day. “Good morning.”
“My lady. I hoped you would be here.” Ever since last night he’d been trying to think of a way to address her mechanisms of the previous evening.
Her head swung around, and she met his gaze, holding it for a moment. “What a very nice thing to say.”
Heat traveled up his neck, although he had no reason to feel flushed. Nevertheless, he refused to be distracted from his intent. “Are you by any chance attempting to make a match between your friend and Quorndon?”
“Oh, dear.” She pulled her plump bottom lip—he had never before noticed how enticing her lips were—between white teeth. “I do hope no one else noticed. At least, until they fall in love.”
Quorndon in love? Not likely. “Ah. What, exactly makes you think they will…er…fall in love?”
“Surely you saw them together. They are a matched pair.”
“If you were putting together a team, I’d agree. Still, there is more to a marriage than the way a couple looks together—”
Lady Lucinda shrugged and took off at a gallop.
Drat the woman! She’s not going to get out of this conversati on that easily .
A minute or so later, Gerald caught up with the minx. “And if Miss Marlow does not engage his affection?”
“I’ll find someone else. I do not wish to marry him, and the easiest way out of the match our mothers are attempting to make is to give him an alternative.” Lady Lucinda’s chin took on a mulish cast that reminded him of the duchess. Although, he didn’t think she would take a gentleman out of a ballroom by his ear. At least, he hoped she wouldn’t. “I will never be able to wed the gentleman I wish to marry if I do not find a match for Lord Quorndon.”
Gerald fought to keep his jaw from dropping. She’d only been in Town for a little over a week. “Have you found a gentleman you wish to wed?”
Lady Lucinda glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, then gazed straight ahead. “I might have.”
He wanted to run his finger under his collar. How could this have happened? He had been watching her so carefully. Well, when he was with her, that was. Had she met this gentleman when she’d been with the duchess or Rothwell?
It behooved Gerald to find out as much about her mystery man as possible. “Is he eligible?”
She stared at him, as if startled. “As eligible as you are.”
That was a relief. He had heard of some young ladies who formed attachments with grooms, and footmen, and dancing masters. Still, he should have known Lady Lucinda would not do anything that would create a scandal. “Well then, I wish you luck in your endeavor.”
Her lips curved in a small smile as she regarded him for a long moment. “Thank you.” The next instant, her expression had vanished completely. “I am looking forward to seeing the museum.”
“I believe you are more interested in how Lord Quorndon and Miss Marlow get on,” Gerald retorted dryly, attempting to bring the discussion back to Lady Lucinda’s matchmaking.
His tone didn’t appear to bother Lady Lucinda at all. She urged her mare to a trot. He was going to drag her off that horse if she didn’t stop riding away from him.
“You must admit that they fit together perfectly,” she called over her shoulder.
“If one was only interested in physical appearances, yes. But there is much more to a marriage than that.” At least, there ought to be. Though he had a feeling that for Quorndon, the way a lady looked on his arm might carry a great deal of weight.
“Oh, they have more in common than that,” she said. “Neither of them likes to ride.”
“That must be an important consideration.” Gerald thought he’d kept his tone grave, but she must have heard his doubt.
“Well, I think it is.” She brought her mare to a halt, and he pulled up beside her. “If Miss Marlow was to marry a gentleman who was an excellent rider, he would wish her to ride as well.” Lady Lucinda pulled her lower lip between her teeth again, and Gerald had to take a breath. He shouldn’t be reacting to her at all. “What I do not understand is why his lordship doesn’t enjoy riding.”
“He won’t do anything that makes him appear at a disadvantage, and he’s got the worst seat I’ve ever seen. Doesn’t tool a carriage either.” Lady Lucinda glanced at him with her brows raised. “Ham handed.”
She nodded thoughtfully. “I can see him not wishing to make himself look bad. What does he do well?”
“He’s the very devil with a rapier, and no one would ever fault his dancing. He’s extremely particular with his clothing—”
“He is a dandy,” she said, cutting him off. “I prefer your style over his.”
Now what was Gerald to say to that? He had never had a lady compliment him in that manner. Heat rose in his neck. Good Lord, he was blushing.
She laughed lightly. “Do not tell me I have put you to the blush!”
“It appears that is exactly what you have done, my lady.” He wished he could tamp down the heat in his face.
“I shall not apologize. What I said was the perfect truth. I will, however, change the subject. What shall we look at in the museum?”
In other words, what would they view while Quorndon and Miss Marlow got to know each other. “There are many fine paintings, as well as the Rosetta Stone, and the Parthenon sculptures. I’m quite sure there is enough to keep us busy for a few hours.”
“Splendid.” She glanced at the broach watch on her bodice. “I must go home. I shall see you later.”
“I look forward to it.” Gerald watched her ride off down the path toward the Grosvenor gate. What an amazing young lady.
Lucinda glanced back and gave a little wave. He returned her salute. Who in perdition had she decided on? Did the gentleman even know she was interested in him? Perhaps he should warn Rothwell, or his duchess.
Gerald arrived at his rooms to find a note from his mother asking him to join her for tea that afternoon. Based on her reaction yesterday, he’d expected to be summoned. He might as well hear what she had to say. She was like a dog with a bone when she wanted something.
First though, he would enjoy watching Lady Lucinda try to make a match between Quorndon and Miss Marlow.
Gerald scribbled a hasty reply to his mother accepting her invitation to tea, and went into break his fast. He finished dressing and answered correspondence until it was time to depart.
Just as he arrived at the museum, a landau carrying Lady Lucinda; Miss Marlow; her aunt, Lady St. Claire; another lady; and Quorndon pulled up to the pavement in front of the stairs leading to the entrance.
He reached the carriage in time to assist Lady Lucinda and the older lady from the vehicle.
“Mrs. Smithson,” Lady Lucinda said. “May I introduce Lord Elliott? My lord, Mrs. Smithson, Lady St. Claire’s cousin who is visiting for several weeks.”
“I’m pleased to meet you, my lord.” The lady curtseyed as he bowed.
“As I am to meet you.” “Relieved” was a better word. Gerald was pleased that Lady St. Claire and her cousin had come to chaperone.
He held out his arms to escort both ladies, but Mrs. Smithson laughed. “You may accompany Lady Lucinda. I shall remain with my cousin.”
Looking past Mrs. Smithson, he noticed Quorndon mounting the steps with Miss Marlow. Lady St. Claire waited at the bottom of the stairs.
Obviously, her ladyship was wasting no time in allowing Quorndon to come to know her niece.
“Excellent.” Lady Lucinda slipped her hand in Gerald’s arm, and a feeling of pride surged through him, which confused him. Granted, she was extremely lovely in a pink muslin gown embroidered with flowers and birds, but he…had no time to think about his reaction now. The rest of their party was making their way up the stairs.
“I am very excited,” Lady Lucinda confided in a low, musical tone. “I have never been to a museum before.”
He liked her enthusiasm and found himself drawing her a bit closer, most likely to get through the door. “Do you have any idea what you would like to see first?”
She grinned at him. “You have been here before, so I will allow you to choose.”
Now his chest was puffing out. “I would be delighted.” They had entered the hall. It was still early, but in one of the rooms a few older children were drawing in front of paintings. “Let us go upstairs first. You will be able to see the giraffes.”
The moment she saw them, he was glad he’d suggested it. “How beautiful they are.” She stood staring at them, as if mesmerized. “They look like a family.”
Gerald had never noticed it before, but there were two larger animals and a smaller one. “Yes, they do. The animal next to them is a rhinoceros. Have you heard of them?”
Lady Lucinda flashed him a smile, and he found himself flushing. He was only supposed to be taking care of her, not having reactions to one of his best friend’s sisters. “I have. They are supposed to be quite ferocious. I do wish they had brought the giraffes back alive.”
“Indeed. A pity, that. I believe they were part of the collection bequeathed by Sir Hans Sloane and have been here for a very long time.” Gerald sounded pompous, and he didn’t like it.
“I am glad to have seen them, even if they are not living. Although, if they were alive and had been here for many years, they most likely would be dead by now.” Her tone was wistful, and if he could have brought the beasts back to life, he would have. “Shall we find the Rosetta Stone? I am told it is quite impressive.”
She had let go of him to walk around the front of the animals, but now returned her hand to the crook of his arm. He’d not known he had felt the loss so keenly until then.
Gerald tried to shrug off the way his senses seemed to notice everything about Lady Lucinda, including the light scent of lemons and lavender that wafted through the air when she moved.
Nothing seemed to bore her. She inspected everything she saw as thoroughly as she had his cattle and the giraffes.
Two hours later, they met the rest of their party in the main hall.
“Have you been waiting long?” Lady Lucinda looked abashed.
Miss Marlow giggled. “Not that long.”
Her aunt chuckled. “Well, not long enough to have sent someone to look for you.” Lady St. Claire glanced from Lady Lucinda to Gerald. “I take it you found much to interest you.”
“We did.” She turned to her friend. “Did you see the giraffes?”
Miss Marlow and Quorndon gave identical shudders as she said, “And the other beast. They all looked fearsome. I am glad they were not alive.”
“Truly?” Lady Lucinda, a wicked mirth in her eyes, said, “I told Lord Elliott I would have loved to see them alive.”
Miss Marlow edged closer to Quorndon, who appeared pleased that she had.
“If we are all ready to depart,”—Lady St. Claire motioned to the door—“I propose we retire to my house and have a light luncheon.”
To Gerald’s surprise, they all fit easily into the landau. He, Quorndon, and Mrs. Smithson took the back-facing seat while Miss Marlow, her aunt, and Lady Lucinda took the one facing toward the front. Naturally, the conversation revolved around what they had seen.
Lady Lucinda had been struck by the importance of the Rosetta Stone, but Miss Marlow and Quorndon had not seen its magnificence. They all agreed that the ceiling paintings above the staircase were beautiful and exquisitely done. Gerald and Lady Lucinda differed with Miss Marlow and Quorndon as to the Roman antiquities; The other couple had found the landscape paintings more to their taste.
As Gerald escorted Lady Lucinda into St. Claire House on South Audley Street, she whispered, “I think today has been a resounding success.”
“I thought you might say that.” She wrinkled her nose at him, and he couldn’t help but to respond to the grin. “I agree. Quorndon and Miss Marlow seem to have much in common.”
If the outing was to be declared a success based solely upon Lady Lucinda’s matching making, then yes. Yet for Gerald, the day had been one of continuing consternation. The more he came to know Lady Lucinda, the more he liked her. Yet given the way her mother had reacted to him, that would only cause her problems. He was not even certain what Rothwell would say. From now on, he must keep his distance and intensify his search for a wife.
“I wonder how long it will be before he proposes,” she mused.
Gerald shook his head. “He only met her last night. Aside from that, the expectation is that he will wed you.”
“Oh, pooh.” She fluttered her fingers. “I shall gladly tell him and Miss Marlow to follow their hearts. Aside from that, she need never know our mothers tried to arrange a marriage. I do not think he will tell her.”
“You have a point.” Lady Lucinda was almost as frightening as the new Duchess of Rothwell. “I’d almost forgotten that you have your mind set on another gentleman.” Another reason it did him no good at all to be attracted to Lady Lucinda.
She slid him the same slightly devious look she had that morning. But what the devil did it mean? “Indeed, I do. Come, I am a bit peckish.” They entered the hall behind the others. “Will you be at Almack’s this week?”
Did her question have something to do with the look she’d given him? “As a matter of fact, I shall.”
“Wonderful!” Lady Lucinda faced him, appearing perfectly delighted. “Do you think you can arrange for me to be approved to waltz? I am told that a gentleman must be recommended by one of the Patronesses as a suitable dance partner.”
Apparently, she did not want Quorndon or her mother to know who her mystery gentleman was. But should Gerald perform the service? He’d better speak to Rothwell first. “I shall try.”
“Thank you.” She tightened her hand on his arm. “I knew I could depend upon you.”
Good God! What have I g ot myself into?
He should tell her brother, but that would be a betrayal of the worst sort, and she would never trust him again. And if he continued to be a friend to her, he might be able to put a stop to any plans she had to marry anyone unsuitable. Still, she’d said her gentleman was as eligible as he. Ergo, he was making a mountain out of a molehill and would look like an idiot if he started running off about mystery men.
He and Lucinda entered the room only to find the elder ladies engaged in a comfortable coze, and Quorndon and Miss Marlow ensconced in one of the two window seats, their heads together.
Lady St. Claire raised her head. “Luncheon will be served shortly. I have ordered tea while we wait.”
“Thank you, my lady,” he and Lucinda answered at the same time.
Drat, he should not think of her by her first name. Perhaps if he only did so in his head it would be all right. As long as he didn’t make a blunder and say it to her, or in public. Yes, that would be fine.
“Let us sit in the other window seat. They are so comfortable.” She led the way, and Gerald could do nothing but follow. It would have been rude to interrupt Lady St. Claire, and he was not about to interfere with Lucinda’s plans for Quorndon and Miss Marlow.
Lucinda patted the place next to her on the wide seat, but Gerald grabbed a nearby chair. “This will be more comfortable for me. I like to look at the person with whom I am conversing.”
She smiled brightly. “Do you enjoy being in Town, or would you rather be in the country?”
“I do not think I would choose one over the other. I enjoy the Lords.” He grimaced. “Most of the time. I would ask you the same question, but you have not been in Town long enough to know.”
Her plump, rosy lips formed a moue. “Very true. I shall answer that question at the end of the Season.”
If she hadn’t married and left Town by then. Gerald again had the feeling that he should do whatever he could to discover which gentleman had captured her interest. After all, mere rank did not make a man eligible.