Page 58 of The Most Eligible Lord in London
“No, blast it all, I do not.” Fitzwalter sat up and blenched. For a moment, Frits thought the man would cast up his accounts.
But he had no time to coddle the idiot. Instead, he asked sweetly, “Are you sure you do not require help?”
“No.” Fitzwalter attempted to stand and fell back to the bed. This was worse than Frits had thought. He hovered over Fitzwalter, but was waved back. “Blast it all. I’m never going to drink again.”
“You aren’t the only one who’s made that vow.”
“Damn you, Littleton.” He managed to lurch up and disappeared behind a screen. By the time he had finished minimal ablations, the valet was back with coffee, a glass holding some vile brown-looking stuff, and toast.
Taking out his quizzer, Frits focused it on the toast.
“Just to make sure he holds it down,” the valet said. “Once I know that, I’ll bring up some rare beef directly.”
“Good man.”
As Frits lounged in a chair, Fitzwalter grimaced at the glass, but tossed it off and poured a cup of coffee, adding three large lumps of sugar. “I’ve never known you to be so cruel. What is this all about?”
“Turner is getting married.” The other man’s jaw dropped and seemed to be stuck in that position. Frits waited until the shock passed. “The lady to whom he is betrothed has a friend who wishes to wed a gentleman—”
“Now wait just a moment—”
He held up his hand, quieting Fitzwalter. “A gentleman who lives close to Turner. You and I are the only two in Town, and I already have a lady in mind. The only thing I want from you is to meet her, ask for a few dances, and take her walking or in a carriage around the Park. I am not asking you to offer for the lady.”
Fitzwalter swallowed a gulp of coffee. “Set her cap at you, has she?”
“In a manner of speaking.” Frits had decided not to betray the knowledge that she planned to trap him.
“That’s all I must do?” The light flooding the room made the dissipation on the other man’s face clear. Any guilt Frits had had left him. It really was time someone stopped Fitzwalter’s excesses.
Frits nodded. With any luck, they’d make a match of it. Lord knew Fitzwalter needed a steadying influence in his life. A wife would do it.
Fitzwalter reached for the pot to pour another cup of coffee, but took a piece of toast instead. “For how long?”
“Just until I am betrothed. Probably two or three weeks.” If it took any longer than that, Frits was liable to do something drastic. As it was, his other scheme was chancy at best.
“Very well.” Fitzwalter leaned back in his chair. “I’ll do it, but you will owe me.”
He was clearly thinking of something, but Frits couldn’t make out what it could be. There was a lot he’d give to have Adeline. “What do you want?”
“Gertrude.” The man acted as if he was asking for the most important thing Frits owned. He almost laughed. Not that he didn’t have affection for the heifer, but . . .
“You do know how many times we’ve sold her to your father and had to give him his money back because she wouldn’t stay?” The blasted cow always managed to get out of the barn or the pasture and crossed miles of Turner’s property to get home.
A militant light entered Fitzwalter’s eyes. “I told my father that I could convince her to stay. He didn’t believe me, but I want to show him I know what I’m talking about.”
Frits had no idea what his friend would do, but he had to stop the threat from Miss Tice. “I agree. If you manage to keep Miss Tice entertained and away from me, you may have Gertrude. Unless she finds her way home again. And you must vow not to mistreat her.”
“I do vow it.” Fitzwalter actually looked insulted. “I’d never hurt a cow, no matter how hardheaded she is.”
Frits stood. “You will dine at my house at eight. Be dressed for a ball.”
Rising, the man started to bow, then thought better of it. “I shall be there.”
He inclined his head. “I’ll see you, then.”
As he strolled out of Jermyn Street on to Piccadilly, he tried not to think of Adeline in Anglesey’s carriage this afternoon, but that was a lost cause. The only thing Frits could do was take his curricle so he could be there and make sure she was safe with the runagate. He did not truly think the man would attempt anything he should not with Adeline, but he could hope. That would give him an excuse to rearrange the worthless fribble’s face. She was the first woman to raise all his primitive warrior instincts, and he was looking for an excuse to drive his fist into the other man’s nose.
As pleasant a vision as that was, he still had over an hour before he could go to the Park, and headed to Hatchards. His mother had ordered some books, and it would give him a chance to see if there were any new volumes that interested him. He stopped first at the clerk’s desk, ascertained that some of the books his mother had ordered were in, and asked that they be delivered to Littleton House. Then he made his way upstairs to see if there were any new tomes on agriculture or animal husbandry.
