Page 10 of A Widow's Perfect Rogue
What a disastrous experience,she thought, recounting it in her mind. Endora had been momentarily distracted, having spotted Lord Latham talking to his sister on the balcony when that silly young miss cast up her accounts. But she did gain a little golden nugget of intrigue when she spied Lady Gallwey coming from the balcony as though a colony of bats was chasing her. “Perhaps we have reached the romantic demise of Lady Gallwey and Lord Latham,” she murmured under her breath. “And that blonde tart better keep her distance if she knows what’s good for her. I refuse to let Latham get away from me a second time.” She gave a wicked grin.Who knows, if all goes well,I might just keep this handsome devil around a little longer than the others.
“Lady Deville, your carriage is ready and waiting for you.” The butler stood a goodly distance from her, obviously put off by the odor.
She shot him a glare. All she wanted was to go home and order a hot bath so she could plot her next move.
He grimaced and cleared his throat. “I took the liberty of placing your soiled shoes in that sack for you,” he said, indicating the package on the floor by the door.
She stiffened. With a haughty toss of her head, she picked up the sack and stalked out.
CHAPTER3
The next day
“Ye’ve been given the right of it, m’ lord,” Kip said with a chuckle, brushing off Thomas’ jacket and waistcoat. He placed a cravat around Thomas’ neck and tied it in the tasteful waterfall style. “The homes of lords and ladies are somewhat like the ships you own. There’s two worlds —an upstairs and a downstairs. The cap’n, ‘is first mate and them that surround them know things they don’t expect the bottom ‘alf of the ship to know. But most times, we knew it ahead of ye. I’ll poke around and see what I can find out fer ye. If the old duchess suggested Hyde Park, and ye’ve a fancy to see yer lady, that’s where I’d be.”
“She suggested I court her,” Thomas said, sitting on the edge of the bed. He opened the small velvet ring box and stared at the sapphire and diamond ring. “And I think she’s right.” He snapped the box closed and then placed it back in his waistcoat pocket.
Kip nodded in his master’s direction as he cleaned the shaving bowl. “And if ye want to place that ring where it goes, I think ye should.”
A wry smile quirked Thomas’ mouth. Kipling Stuart had always spoken his mind. He had been with Thomas for almost six years, having first been assigned to him aboard one of his company’s ships. Kip served in many capacities—steward, messenger, valet, and friend. When Thomas announced that he planned to return to London, he brought Kip with him as his valet.
There were two sides to Kip—the formal version which he practiced when in front of others, and ‘regular Kip’—the man that spoke his mind with a refreshing, no-nonsense blunt tone, as he had on board ship. But always with Thomas’ best interest at heart. “Perfect. Find out what her day will be like tomorrow and we’ll take it day to day.”
“I will, m’lord.”
Feeling lighter than he had in days…years, even…Thomas took the stairs two at a time and joined his family in the breakfast room to break his fast.
“Good morning, dear.” His mother set down her copy of theTon Tattlerand dabbed at her eyes. I was just reading about yesterday’s ball. Thankfully, nothing was mentioned about poor Lady Lucy and her untimely illness, however…” Her lips twitched into a grin. “An article attributed the entire incident to the Widow Deville. I rarely spread gossip, but this is too droll not to share. Listen to this!
Amost unfortunate occurrence took place at the Duke of Clarence’s annual ball. According to concerned sources, a well-known widow known for her flaming red hair and signature scarlet gowns cast up her accounts—not because of the food, which had yet to be served and which, according to sources, was delicious in every respect.
No, dear reader, our scarlet widow was tap-hackled from indulging in too much champagne. Then to make matters worse, the widow in question lost her footing in the slippery mess and landed in the same. Needless to say, the orchestra ceased playing and the ballroom floor had to be washed and all the windows opened to release the foul odor.
Shortly thereafter, the red widow was seen skulking out the door barefoot, carrying a sack with her soiled shoes. One esteemed guest (who shall remain unnamed) speculated that the ghost of the widow’s second (and short-tenured) husband may have given her a swift kick causing her to topple into the pile of bile because of the widow’s re-emergence into Society less than six months after his unfortunate and somewhat mysterious and sudden demise.
The Viscountess placed the paper on the table and wiped tears of laughter from her eyes. “If I know Lady Deville, this will spur her on to seek revenge on whoever leaked that story to theTattler. She will be on the prowl—but she may have met her match in whoever theconcerned sourceis.
“I wonder who it could be!” Paula said, holding her chest from laughing.
“It must be someone who clearly dislikes Lady Deville and someone strong enough to stand up to her,” Katie added with a giggle.
“Whoever submitted it certainly made my day!” Thomas roared with laughter. It could have been none other than the dowager. No one would have had such temerity. He would thank her when he next saw her. His mother’s lively reading of the article had made it even more humorous. “Who was the poor chap who’d had the misfortune of marrying Lady Deville?” Thomas asked.
“Her marriage was so brief, I don’t recall,” Aunt Jane said. “I believe it was Lord Harold Walters. Perhaps we are witness to true karma.”
At that, the table erupted into more laughter.
“Speaking of last night’s ball,” his mother said a few moments later. “I noticed you speaking with the dowager. She is the most gracious of hosts, is she not?”
“Yes, she is,” Thomas replied noncommittally. His mother had an uncanny ability to read his mind and had since he was a boy. Occasionally, he tried to redirect the conversation or dodged giving a direct answer but that was purely to address his own vain need to not be outmaneuvered by her—as in this case. “Yes. The dowager is a delightful lady…and extremely insightful.” He would say no more on the subject, knowing how clever his mother was.
“I was glad to see Lord Hertford and his lovely wife in attendance yesterday,” his mother added. “Goodness! As a boy, Slade spent so much time here. I pinch myself sometimes when I look at you children and realize that you are all grown up. I’m a very fortunate woman, indeed.”
“Mother, we are the fortunate ones,” Thomas returned, thinking back to his time with Slade last evening. Thomas had been grateful for the presence of his friends as well. He’d had no desire to dance and spent the balance of the ball with Slade and Isabella. He and Slade had been childhood friends, and he was grateful to still call him a best friend today as well as a shrewd business partner. “That reminds me,” Thomas continued. “Hertford said his wife was planning a dinner party, and you were helping her with ideas. Let me know when it is so I can be certain to attend.”
“I will, son. Isabella…Lady Hertford…had the whole affair planned out before we left the ball and assured me the invitations would go out soon. I will draw your attention to it as soon as it arrives,” his mother added.
Thomas turned his attention to his sister and cousin, who were whispering at the other end of the table. “Unless appearances deceived me, you two ladies enjoyed a successful ball last night. I noticed Feilding handing off several bouquets to not two, but three footmen as I passed through the front hall earlier. There’s a good chance you will be quite busy this morning.”
