Chapter Five

When Porter tucked Lewis in to bed, the boy spoke of nothing other than their time playing in the snow with Chloe. Not everyone had the patience or energy to keep up with him. Heaven knew Porter struggled at times to do so. Having Chloe at the house party was a blessing. That she and Vance visited often was even more heaven-sent. Lewis was comfortable with her, and she loved him enough to appreciate him when others too often found him only exhausting.

Mrs. Northrop ran Porter to ground the next afternoon. He’d seen her many times over the course of the house party but had interacted with her very little. He’d tried to believe she was working on finding him a match, that the fee he would “donate”—ladies not being in a position to directly accept payment for work they did—would not be wasted. Yet the very determined glint in her eyes made him instantly uneasy.

“I have made an arrangement,” she said without preamble. “Mrs. Talbot is visiting with the ladies here at the party and has expressed her wish to not have to walk back to her home. I quite casually mentioned that you had planned to go for a drive today and, perhaps, could take her home. She was quite pleased at the prospect. She will be ready to leave shortly.”

The legendary matchmaker was very direct, that was certain.

“I’m to—she expects that—?”

“She has no suspicion that I have arranged this for any reason other than to help her return home in comfort.” Mrs. Northrop gave a quick nod. “She is a proper age for you. Her manners are impeccable. Her financial situation is such that she would not be pursuing a connection in order to secure her comfort. More to the point, I have heard her speak longingly of children. You did indicate your primary motivation is to provide your son with a mother figure.”

Porter nodded. Mrs. Northrop had the unnerving ability to render him mute.

“Drive her home,” Mrs. Northrop instructed. “Get to know her. When you return I will let you know what else I have arranged.”

“There will be—there will be more?”

She eyed him as if he were making no sense. “Of course there will be. You wish for a wife, and we have ample options here but little time. We must press forward.”

She wasn’t wrong on that score.

He released a breath, then firmed his resolve. “I will see that the chaise is prepared.”

He stood by the equipage a moment, convincing himself to proceed. When he’d first engaged Mrs. Northrop’s services, he’d been determined, if not entirely enthusiastic. Where had his resolve fled?

“Lewis needs this,” he reminded himself. Still, his feet dragged as he pulled himself inside.

Mrs. Talbot was tugging her gloves on. She smiled when she saw him. “Thank you, Mr. Bartrum, for your generosity. I had a significant walk ahead of me.”

He dipped his head and motioned for her to precede him outside.

“Will Lewis be joining us?” she asked over her shoulder as he handed her up into the carriage.

“He will not be.”

She looked genuinely disappointed. That seemed to him a good sign. With both of them situated, he flicked the reins and set the horse in motion.

“How old is Lewis?”

At least she had chosen an easy topic. “He is nearly four years old.”

“A very active age, from what I understand.” She sighed wistfully. “My marriage was not blessed with children, but I do adore them.”

Promising. “He is quite active. Not everyone finds themselves equal to the task of keeping pace with him.”

She did not appear concerned. “Does he enjoy being read to?”

“Sometimes.”

“I am certain he enjoys games,” she said.

“Thoroughly.”

Her smile softened. “I have so wished for a child to play with and read to, to sit with and teach and watch grow.”

This was precisely what he wanted to find, yet he felt no relief or enthusiasm. Indeed, he was growing more and more uneasy.

“Do you think Lewis would like to hear a story?” she asked.

That was not an easy thing to predict ahead of time. “Should he request one when you are nearby, I will be sure to inform you.”

Mrs. Talbot nodded. “I would enjoy that greatly.”

They continued down the lane toward Mrs. Talbot’s home. She asked after Lewis’s favorite pastimes and if he was looking forward to Christmas. She asked Porter if he enjoyed being a father.

Conversation flowed easily between them, not slowing even as they pulled under the front portico of her home. She thanked him before being handed down by a footman. Porter set the chaise in motion once more. His mind was not easy.

Mrs. Talbot was well-mannered, good-natured, and clearly interested. Interested in Lewis, at least. Perhaps that was the source of his discouragement. She liked children, felt a pull toward his son, but seemed utterly indifferent to him.

“I don’t particularly want someone in my life for my sake. Do I?” No one but the horse was nearby, so he didn’t expect a reply. Still, the answer felt surprisingly crucial. “Do I?”

He was struck in that moment by the strength of his emotional response. He did want someone in his life. He was lonely and, other than the company of a three-year-old, alone. His heart quietly longed for someone to care about and care for him. Without warning, his previously simple search took on a new dimension.

He fully intended to retire to his bedchamber and attempt to sort all this out, but Mrs. Northrop was waiting for him in the entryway.

“Mr. Bartrum, excellent timing. I am having a lovely visit with Mrs. and Miss Cunningham and intend for you to join us.” She took the steps, looking back once to motion him to follow her. “Miss Cunningham is young, but not infantile. She is pleasant company and of a good family. I believe she is a fine candidate.”

He really couldn’t refuse. This was what he’d asked her to do. He followed her all the way to the sitting room where the lady in question, and her mother, were seated.

“Mr. Bartrum means to join us.” Mrs. Northrop gave the impression of this having been a happy coincidence.

He sat on the edge of a sofa, facing the Cunninghams.

“I understand you reside in Essex,” Miss Cunningham said. “I have visited there often. It is lovely.”

“I have always thought so.”

Mrs. Northrop spoke with Mrs. Cunningham, leaving Porter solely responsible for conversing with Miss Cunningham. He didn’t necessarily object, but conversations weren’t a strong suit of his.

“I was grateful to see the snow has stopped.” She did not seem to need him to lead the conversation.

He was happy enough to follow her lead, as he had done with Mrs. Talbot. “It does simplify travel. But my son will be disappointed. He thoroughly enjoys playing in the snow.”

That seemed to surprise her. “He must be soaked and muddy by the time he returns to the nursery.”

“Well, yes. But he’s also very pleased to have become soaked and muddy.”

“The nursemaids are likely a bit disgruntled, but I am certain they are accustomed to such things.” She didn’t speak unkindly nor with disapproval, but her response was a little disinterested in Lewis’s concerns. “Do you go to London for the Season?”

“I do.”

Her face lit. “I just adore Town when Society is there en masse. So many diversions, so many friends and acquaintances to call on.” She smiled much the same way Mrs. Talbot had when speaking of reading and playing with children. “I confess I am not one to run myself ragged attempting to attend every event, but the ones I enjoy, I thoroughly enjoy.”

He could relate to that. “As do I.”

“You simply must call on us when you are in Town next Season. We would very much like to continue our acquaintance.” A great deal of I lay in her use of we. It was flattering, especially after Mrs. Talbot’s lack of interest. And yet . . .

“I do hope you will dance with me should we find ourselves at the same ball.” It was a touch forward of her but not shockingly so. She was certainly not shy about letting her interest show.

“I confess I do not attend as many balls as some gentlemen. Being out so late night after night would make it difficult to be awake for my mornings with Lewis.”

Her brow pulled. “You spend every morning with him?”

“Nearly. He takes great joy in our time together. As do I.”

How was it possible she found that surprising? Mrs. Talbot had shown little interest in him. Miss Cunningham showed little interest in Lewis. For the first time since undertaking this apparently hare-brained scheme, he began to suspect he’d underestimated the complexity of it. He’d told Mrs. Northrop with such confidence what his wishes were for a wife only to realize now that what he’d told her was wrong.

He excused himself and, after a quick bow, slipped from the room.

A mother for Lewis, he’d said with finality. But he needed so much more. Someone who loved his son, yes, but also someone who loved him and whom he could love in return. Someone he felt at ease with rather than on edge. Someone who brought both him and his son joy and who would be made happier herself by having them in her life. Someone like—

He stopped in the middle of the corridor. His lungs suddenly turned to stone. His pulse echoed through his head as his mind seized the unexpected and undeniable truth.

Someone like Chloe.

* * *

Adelaide continued her conversation with the Cunninghams even as she indulged in a moment of inward triumph. Her arrangements that day would do the trick, she had no doubt. Both ladies she’d thrust upon Mr. Bartrum were perfectly acceptable and fine people. But neither offered the entirety of what he truly needed.

She had seen in his face the moment he’d realized that for himself. He knew what he didn’t want. Now, to help him see with clarity what he did.