Page 31 of His Lordship's True Lady
“Wife-hunting?” He sat as well, while overhead, the British gave such enthusiastic chase that the chandelier swayed and bounced. “Oh yes… the infernal countess hunt. No progress, alas. I suppose if I were engaged, Mrs. Braithwaite might be more easily subdued. Scheming women tend to hover like midges until they’ve accomplished their ends.”
Lily nearly dropped the teapot. “You’ve dealt with many women bent on intrigue?”
“My late wife dissembled her way into marriage, but that’s a tale for another time. I’ll take mine plain.”
Lily passed him a full cup. “One woman does not represent the entire gender.” Though one duplicitous wife would be hard to forget.
Grampion waited until Lily had fixed her own tea before he took a sip. The blend was aromatic and rich and the comfort lovely. She troubled Uncle Walter’s staff as little as possible, because every one of them answered to him, reporting when Lily rose, when she dined, where she shopped, and with whom she danced.
“My wife was quite young, and I was an idiot,” Grampion said. “In the end, we both had much to regret. I don’t intend to let Mrs. Braithwaite impose any regrets on me.”
“For Daisy’s sake, I’m relieved to hear it.” Also for his.
“I’ve no doubt that Daisy’s aunt merely wants my money. A woman intent on her own material security knows few scruples.”
Sometimes, she knew no scruples at all. “Another lesson learned from your lady wife?”
Grampion held up the tray of cakes. “Yes, but as you say, that’s no excuse for impugning a whole gender. I am in the company of a woman who neither deceives nor manipulates, and she takes a kindly interest in Daisy without having any ulterior motive at all. Have as many cakes as you please. The children are not on hand to supervise us, and I’ll eat whatever you leave on the plate.”
Lily took two cakes.
Grampion aimed a look at her. His expression was utterly serious, his blue eyes were dancing.
She took two more.
Chapter Seven
Hessian saw his guests to the door, and while the little girls were whispering and giggling like free traders who’d liberally partaken of contraband spirits, Hessian kissed Miss Ferguson’s cheek. He awarded himself this boon for having been a cordial host who never once raised the topic of clandestine embraces or passionate interludes.
“I’ll come by for you on Wednesday at eleven,” he murmured.
Both children left off conspiring to stare at him.
“You needn’t come by,” Miss Ferguson said. “I’ll collect Bronwyn, and we can meet you at the foot of the Serpentine. My companion can wait for us in the coach.”
For a woman whose kisses embodied reckless abandon, Miss Ferguson certainly seemed concerned with propriety.
“That will suit. My thanks for calling on us today.”
“Mine too,” Daisy said. “On Wednesday, we can have a sea battle.”
“On Wednesday, we will have a decorous stroll in the park,” Hessian said. “Ladies, good day.”
Miss Ferguson and her charge departed, whereupon Daisy darted to the window of the parlor. Much waving and smiling ensued, while Hessian considered options and smiled a bit as well.
“We’re going out, Daisy.”
She turned from the window. “Out?”
“To pay a call on my brother. Worth is forever dropping in on me unannounced. It’s time to return fire.”
“Like Napoleon and Wellington?”
“Similar, but with fewer casualties, one hopes.”
Worth welcomed them graciously, though his brows rose when he spotted Daisy clinging to Hessian’s hand.
Hessian went on the polite offensive. “Miss Daisy, may I make known to you my brother, Sir Worth Kettering. Worth, please make your bow to my ward, Miss Daisy.”
