Page 32 of Lady Beast's Bridegroom
From the time Viv left until the visit ended was a very long twenty minutes. At last, Barlowe entered to say that thearrangements at Grillions had been made, and that Arial’s carriage was outside, already loaded with the luggage of Lady Ransome and her two daughters.
“That is over then,” Peter said as they watched the ladies go.
Arial was developing the greatest of respect for Peter, but in this instance, he was underestimating the ingenuity of the truly venomous.No, she thought,it is just beginning.
Chapter Twelve
After Peter’s stepmotherand her daughters left, the afternoon proceeded as planned. Richards had sent Peter a list of names and addresses—people of consequence in Society who could ease the way of a pair of newcomers.
Peter conducted Arial from the house with a rare mix of excitement, and anxiety, and also with a touch of what honesty forced him to acknowledge was resentment. What would she think of his surprise? He had gone out and spent what he could not help but think of as her money without letting her know. Would she think he had overstepped the boundaries of their polite agreement?
Arial’s reaction to the pretty little curricle was all he could have wished. She clasped his arm tighter and beamed at him. “Is it ours?” She let her eye track over the pair of greys that he had purchased with the rig. “Aretheyours? They are so pretty!”
The grooms had curried the new arrivals to a fine gleam and polished the brass on the harness. Peter had to agree they did look pretty.
“I know we discussed a larger vehicle for trips with the girls, and I will see about that this afternoon. However, my first thought was for something for the two of us to go visiting or for a drive in the park. Or, if either of us have an errand on our own. With the two vehicles, as well as our traveling coaches, variousmembers of the family can go in different directions without any of us being subjected to smelly hired rides.”
Arial had darted forward to become acquainted with the greys. “What a wonderful idea. But how did you find the perfect vehicle so quickly?”
Peter’s chest swelled at her admiration, which was quite undeserved, for it had been mere chance. “My errands yesterday took less time than I expected, so I stopped by to see John—just so he would not think I was cutting the acquaintance after Miss Weatherall’s behavior. He had a friend with him, and when I mentioned I was looking for a town rig, he said he was selling one. I took a look. It was not what we had in mind, but I thought it was just what we needed.”
Arial nodded. “You are quite right.”
Peter assisted her to mount, and then rounded the curricle to take his own seat. He took up the reins and gave the groom who was holding the heads of the team the nod to step away. “Apparently, it is not high enough to be fashionable, and greys are not as popular as chestnut or bays,” he admitted. The groom clambered up behind, and Peter set the team moving.
“Those high perch phaetons are ridiculous,” Arial declared, stoutly. “I love our new curricle, and greys are my favorite color. Why do they call them grey when they are more like milk?”
“They have dark skin and eyes,” Peter explained, “so were probably not white when they were born, but their coat has turned white with age. Their age was another complaint of the former owner. They probably have another ten working years in them, but he was keen to have a pair of flighty young things. For myself, driving around town with a precious passenger, I prefer a couple of mature and sensible horses who know their business.”
He and Arial were in perfect accord when they reached the first address on the list. The groom jumped down to takethe team, and Peter hurried around to help Arial. Inside, they informed the butler they were merely leaving their card, placed it on the silver salver he offered, and left again.
They spent the next two hours repeating the process at house after house.
The only exception was the call on Lady Charmain. She must have heard their voices in the hall, for she hurried out and insisted on them joining her. Miss Denning, the countess’s aunt, greeted Arial with delight. “My dear Lady Ransome. I saw your marriage notice! I had no idea you planned to wed but I could not be more pleased. This must be your husband!”
Peter bowed over her hand. “I have that honor.”
Miss Denning insisted on Arial sitting next to her while Lady Charmain introduced the gentleman callers—three of them, two Peter would designate as young pups, and a man he thought to be in his late thirties or early forties. The pups looked discomfited by his arrival with Arial. The older man looked furious. But, when they realize Peter and Arial were married, their expressions relaxed, and they all pressed their congratulations upon him.
Miss Denning was asking Arial for details of how she came to know Peter. Peter found himself talking to the gentlemen while their hostess made fresh tea for the new arrivals. It was as he thought. All three were suitors for Lady Charmain’s hand. The older man, a Mr. Snowden, must be the preferred candidate, for he treated the two pups with casual contempt and spoke of the countess as if he already possessed her.
Peter could not warm to the man.
Lady Charmain reentered the room, clapped her hands, and announced, “Gentlemen, it was very kind of you to call. I know you will understand that I would now like to be private with my friend and her husband.”
The two pups made their farewells, one pressing a sheet of paper into Lady Charmain’s hand. He was blushing as he said, “A little something I wrote for you, my lady.”
She glanced at the paper and said, “A poem? How kind.”
Snowden showed no signs of leaving, though he remained standing since Lady Charmain did.
When he saw the exasperated look in the countess’s eyes, Peter decided to help. He held out his hand to Snowden. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Snowden. My lady and I are fixed in town at the moment, so perhaps we shall meet again.”
Snowden took his hand reluctantly but gave a short bark of laughter. “Lady Charmain, I had supposed you meant those two boys. Surely you did not intend to eject me?”
“That is a somewhat harsh interpretation,” said Lady Charmain. “However, I was including you when I requested the gentlemen to end their call.”
Peter had not thought Miss Denning was listening, engrossed as she was in interrogating Arial. She proved herself capable of paying attention to two conversations at once. “You have been here three quarters of an hour, Snowden. Over long for an afternoon call. Bad form to argue about it.”
