Page 18 of A Torn Allegiance
“Thank you. I’d be much obliged to you. I’m afraid the Duke of Sumter is not much for men’s clubs.”
“More reason to like and respect him.” Lady Elsie’s frown surprised a laugh out of Hayes. “Apparently you agree with him.”
Lord Devon shook his head. “Oh, don’t listen to my sister. She’s just always resented the fact that they keep her out. She can’t be learning all our secrets; that’s what gets her.”
Hayes grinned. “Then, perhaps I can be your spy?”
She stared at him for a moment as though he’d guessed her greatest secret. But then she grinned. “Duncan used to say the same thing.” She linked her arm with Hayes’s again.
They continued to tour the room, and Lord Devon stayed with them. He was intent on taking as much of Hayes’s time as possible, apparently. “I’ll take you to Tattersalls. How are the horses in Oldenburg?”
“We have a fine line of Arabians. Several prominent visitors from the East introduced them.”
“Then, I shall thoroughly enjoy introducing you to the English thoroughbred.”
They talked of horses and England and the hunt for many minutes, and Hayes found himself liking Lord Devon more and more. He seemed to have Lady Elsie’s quick wit and intelligence coupled with a roguish sense of daring and adventure.
“White’s, Tattersalls—where else can we go to give you a full representation of British life?”
Lady Elsie huffed. “How about some of the places women also attend? The theater, the opera, Vauxhall—?”
Lord Devon grunted. “But you’ll be covering all of those places—you and every other woman within reach. He is going to need a bit of a respite, I’d imagine.”
Lady Elsie turned away.
“Pugilism at Jackson’s.” Lord Devon clapped him on the back. “And fencing. How are you at either?”
“I have been trained.”
“But... can you win?”
Hayes rolled his shoulders. “I am the eldest of eight brothers.”
“Ho, ho!” Lord Devon’s grin grew. “Then, I’m voting in your favor at White’s. If we play this right, there might be some serious blunt to win off you.”
Lady Elsie’s huffs grew louder, and Lord Devon winked at Hayes before turning to her. “Perhaps if you dressed in breeches, you could come.”
She stepped forward and whacked him on the arm with such force, Hayes dropped his mouth in amazement.
“Elsie, really.” Her mother’s voice sounded stern, but she was watching Hayes.
He closed his mouth and made a mental note not to tease Lady Elsie past a certain point. He smiled at the duchess, who looked like she might be laughing at him on the inside, and he determined to attempt to understand this singularly intriguing family better.
They finished their private viewing of the marbles. Hayes tried to imagine each of these pieces sitting in Greece for longer than a thousand years. An accurate sense of their age felt difficult to grasp, but his admiration for the beautiful art of their sculpting grew at every turn.
As they exited and the carriage approached, Lady Elsie retook his arm as though standing at his side were the most natural thing for her to do. Something he certainly wished to repeat. As he handed her up into the carriage, she whispered, “We must return for another visit to the museum.” The soft pressure of her hand on his arm promised something. He couldn’t be certain what, but he found he was most eager for further time with her.
Chapter Seven
Almost a full week passed,and Elsie wondered if people died from waiting for a particular person to come calling. Was it a common malady to feel breathless and almost jittery with the announcement of a new caller only to plummet into such disappointment she was unable to produce a smile? She’d continued thus, every day the same, until she didn’t think she could bare another minute. Who would have thought anticipation for the sight of one person could have such an effect?
She readied herself for Almack’s. Last Season, she’d almost decided never to return again to those assembly rooms. The patronesses were as close-minded as any women she knew and absolutely refused to help the foundries or attend her readings or recitations or discussions. Why should she attend their balls?
She knew why she was attending this particular ball. Because her father had asked her to and because her mother hoped she would accept the attentions of a good man, but above all else, Elsie was attending because Prince Hayes would be there. With Duncan.
Duncan had monopolized the prince’s attention for days. They’d gone riding and shooting and spent time at White’s. So much so that Elsie had begun hearing talk of him from morning callers. That very morning, two new debutantes had fallen all over themselves in giddiness when she’d told them the prince would be at Almack’s. After much gushing, one woman fanned herself and exclaimed, “The princes from Oldenburg are the most handsome of any of our acquaintance, aren’t they?”
She’d considered the question for the rest of the afternoon. Was Prince Hayes handsome? He had thick dark hair, lovely perceptive eyes, a strong jawline, a broad chest... yes, he was handsome. She ignored the new flush to her skin with every thought. Of course he was handsome. He would be king to a country. Any crown prince was handsome, was he not? The women of thetonwho fawned over him certainly thought that way. But there was much more to Prince Hayes than simply an upcoming crown. He was intelligent, and he had a manner about him, a way of watching her. Her contentment grew, thinking about him. He listened to her. She was completely consumed with thoughts of the man and hadn’t before now considered specifically if he was handsome. She laughed to herself. Lady Sophie would think her addled.
