Page 12 of Papa's Desires
Chapter 6
Bloody hell, Grayson. You look like something a stable boy scrapes off hisboots.”
Unlike earlier in the evening, Grayson was not pleased to see Lord Caldwell. After the fiasco at the ball, he had retreated to the sanctuary of his club where he had taken full advantage of his membership status to imbibe in copious amounts of alcohol. Perkins, the club steward, had made the ill-fated suggestion that perhaps Lord Grayson would like to retire to one of the guest rooms above stairs in order torest.
And now, not only had the help taken notice of his smashed state, but his friend Lord Caldwell had arrived to witness his misery. Grayson’s appreciation for Caldwell’s convivial nature evaporated and he scowled up at him. “Leave me alone,Caldwell.”
“Not bloody likely.” Caldwell pulled a seat up nearer to Grayson and peered at his face. “You need a bath and some rest, mate. What has gotten into you? You caused quite a stir at theball.”
Grayson’s head pounded and he scrubbed his hands over his face. “I have made a mess of things, it wouldappear.”
“You have given the ladies something to chatter about, certainly, but I believe your reputation is quite safe...as long as you are not seen in public in your current state. Honestly, Grayson. What were you thinking? Is it true you asked Miss Venture about a streetgang?”
Grayson leapt from his seat as fast as a man with a banger of a headache could and paced across the plush carpet and back again, arms pumping at his sides inagitation.
“I do not know what has happened to me,” he said, tamping down the panic—or was that his dinner—rising inside him. “What the blazes was I thinking? I had never spoken to the young woman before and the first thing out of my mouth was to ask her about a street gang? Not the weather or a compliment to her gown? Have I lost my bloodymind?”
“You would not be the first gentleman to lose his concentration in the presence of a comely young lady, Grayson,” his friend generously pointed out. “Though I must admit, it seems quite uncharacteristic foryou.”
“Exactly!” Grayson said and continued his pacing. Perkins arrived bearing a pot of tea on a tray which he sat upon a table and commenced preparing a cup for the agitated lord. Without even asking, he simply put the cup in Grayson’s hand the next time he held still long enough for the act to be completed. Once the hot liquid hit his throat, Grayson was grateful and felt a mite bad over his poor treatment of the steward a few minutesprior.
“A street gang? Named The Weasels? Are you daft, man? Did you make the entire thing up?” Caldwell shook his head. “No, never mind. Whether it is fact or fiction, the question is, why did you say it atall?”
Grayson finished his tea and held the cup out for a refill. He was grateful for the late hour, even by the standards of White’s, which meant only Caldwell, Perkins and a couple of servants were privy to the spectacle his complete discomposure created. He was this far in, he might as well shareall.
“I-I met a girl, a young lady, recently. A most unusual young lady with hair like spun gold and the disposition of an angel. Yet, she told me the most outrageous tale of being part of a street gang called TheWeasels.”
Caldwell’s mouth hung open and he leaned toward Grayson as though in disbelief, when he finally closed it enough to make his jaw work, he said, “Where is she? If she has captivated you so much that you have lost all sense of composure, why were you at a ball dancing with other young ladies? No wonder you were so dissatisfied with your dancepartners.”
“She is,” Grayson’s heart squeezed in his chest in a most unfamiliar way as he spoke, “betrothed to another. In fact, I believe she is to be wed in a matter of hours.” His consternation over his own behavior at the ball paled in comparison to the complete misery which engulfed him at the prospect of another man touching his Miss Heathrow. To hell with blood and lineage and his once staunchly held beliefs regarding such matters. What a cad he’d been to consider himself above anyone. He found he cared not who her parents were and thought her more charming and intelligent than any of the ladies of the ton. It occurred to him that he didn’t even know her first name, but it mattered not. She was an angel fallen from heaven above, her habit of telling fanciful stories of street gangsnotwithstanding.
“Betrothed to another, you say? Then we have not a moment to lose, now do we, Grayson. Come on man, we have a bride to fightfor.”
“What are you talking about, Caldwell? I told you, she is betrothed toanother.”
“And so that is it, then? Have you told her of your feelings forher?”
Here Grayson nearly blushed in humiliation. “I-I have only spoken to her one time. I am sure she would be shocked to know I was even still thinking of her. In fact, I am shocked by it myself. Perhaps I ought to see a doctor. Clearly I have contracted some loathsomedisease.”
“The most loathsome disease of all, my friend. You are in love.” Caldwell grabbed Grayson’s arm with one hand and another cup of tea from Perkins with his other. “We have no time to spare. We must get you cleaned up and then we are off to—” Caldwell cocked his head to the side and studied Grayson. “Where are we off to, mylord?”
“Talcott House. And we musthurry.”
* * *
“Oh,Cynny, you are the most beautiful bride I ever saw,” Rosie said as she circled slowly around her friend who was adorned in all her bridalfinery.
Cynny giggled. “I am the first bride you've ever seen, Rosie,” she said, “so of course I am the mostbeautiful.”
“Even if I had seen one hundred brides, none could be nearly as pretty as you, Hyacinth, and well you knowit.”
“Oh, do you really think so, Rosie?” Cynny asked. She was quite anxious over the fact that she would, within just a few hours, be married to Lord Kensington, a man she had never met before. Although she had great faith in Miss Wickersham’s ability to select just the right papa for each of her girls, Hyacinth could not help but feel a bit anxious. She comforted herself with the reminder that her friend Cammie had found true love with her papa, Lord Cavendish. And she had never met him before she was married either, so clearly Miss Wickersham knew what she wasdoing.
If that were really true, then why could Cynny not stop thinking about Lord Grayson, the man she met in the garden just a few days ago? Their encounter had been extremely brief and Cynny knew that she was inexperienced with men, and so perhaps the warm feeling in her tummy she had for Lord Grayson was simply the result of meeting an attractive man. She certainly hoped that Lord Kensington would be a handsome man aswell.
Cynny realized it was ironic that she hoped for a handsome husband since she had been judged and approved of for her beauty her entire life. Very few people had bothered to get to know the girl beneath the beautiful golden curls. Cynny looked at herself in the mirror and sighed. She missed Cammie. She wished she was here with her today to share in her special moment, but also to give heradvice.
The letter from Cammie still had her confused, and she thought of the most shocking tidbit from the letter and nearly gasped in hernervousness.
