His Lordship's True Lady (True Gentlemen #4)(45)



“Because you’ve grown up. I daresay you gave the protocol not a single thought when you courted Jacaranda, but God forbid my nieces encounter a suitor such as you were. You’re saying the situation could become messy.”

“Very. Leggett doesn’t smell right.”

Lily’s fragrance was even sweeter than the honeysuckle. “Very well, take some time to turn over a few rocks and poke about beneath a few hedges. Why are we out here getting the stink of dog all over our hands when we could be in the nursery making my infant niece smile?”

Worth rose, and the dog, apparently sensing that the conversation was headed elsewhere, wiggled to her feet.

“Why, indeed? By all means, let’s make a raid on the nursery, though I suspect it has been overrun by Vandals or Yahoos or the 95 th Rifles.”

With the dog panting at Worth’s side, they returned to the house. Worth’s manner was subdued, for him, though perhaps it was more the case that Hessian’s mood was unsubdued. To begin every day kissing Lily, truly kissing her. To pour her tea, hold her chair…

Hold her babies.

Hessian contented himself with holding Worth’s firstborn for the two minutes that her papa allowed him the privilege. The Queens of the Nile had taken over the schoolroom and used blankets and desks to put a canopy over their royal barge, beneath which they consumed exotic fig cakes.

The fig cakes bore a strong resemblance to crumpets, which Hessian knew better than to remark.

He also knew better than to fuss when Worth demanded possession of the baby. Papas could be jealous where their daughters were concerned.

And throughout all of the children’s laughter and the baby’s smiles, Worth remained oddly quiet.

“Something is troubling you,” Hessian said as they closed the nursery door. Daisy had elected to spend the afternoon with Avery, which decision gave Hessian a pang.

“You didn’t want to leave Daisy in your own brother’s keeping, Hess. Not even for two hours.”

And that was a dodge. “Even in Cumberland, I doubt Daisy had many friends. The neighborhood is sparsely populated and Daisy’s station is above that of the daughters of the yeomanry.”

Then too, Lady Evers had been enormously attached to the girl, her only daughter.

Worth paused at the top of the steps. “Who are Leggett’s friends?”

“Good God, you’re like a hound after a lame hare. How would I know who Leggett’s friends are when I’ve spent the last ten years rusticating in Cumberland?”

Worth started down the steps. “You’re playing cards with Rosecroft, Tresham, Kilkenney, and Hazelton?”

“I have played cards with them.” Three earls and a ducal heir who squabbled over farthing points like biddy hens over their corn.

“Make a few inquiries, sniff at a few hedges yourself. Leggett will expect that. I have something for you.”

“Did one of my investments take a turn for the worse?” Though with Worth minding the ledgers, that was unlikely.

“Don’t be preposterous.” He turned into the office from which he oversaw a financial empire that included projects on four continents—South America was doubtless soon to join the ranks—and investors from several royal houses as well as several opera houses.

A silver rattle sat atop a stack of opened correspondence. A leather leash was coiled in the pen tray. A bit of untidiness, and dear because it was Worth’s untidiness.

“Lady Evers’s solicitor sent this for you,” Worth said, holding out a bound book. “Her ladyship instructed that you should have this journal only after you’d taken custody of Daisy.”

A year was tooled into the book’s leather binding—eight years past. “I have custody of all the children and have undertaken correspondence with the boys. They’ll join me and Daisy at Grampion this summer.”

And Lily would be with them too, God willing.

Worth shoved the journal at him. “You are to read this and pass it along to Daisy if and when you think it appropriate. There are others—her ladyship was apparently a conscientious diarist—and those are boxed up and waiting for your return to Grampion. Lady Evers wanted this specific volume passed to you personally.”

Hessian had solved the first mess of the day by sacking a nursery maid. The mess that lay on the pages of her ladyship’s diary would not be so easily dealt with.

“Have you read it?”

“Hess, I don’t need to. Daisy has your eyes, your chin, and your penchant for hanging back and studying a situation until she’s grasped every detail of the terrain. If you had any suspicions that she’s your progeny, to me those suspicions have been confirmed.”

“And your observations prove nothing, because Lord Evers was also tall, fair, and of good, northern stock.” Hessian took the book and shoved it into a pocket.

There it remained until he stashed the journal in the drawer of his night table, and tried his best to forget he’d ever seen the damned thing.





Chapter Eleven





* * *



The music was wonderful. A violinist, a pianist, and a cellist, each performing solo, and then as a piano trio. Lily had spent the evening alternately wishing she’d had more years to study the pianoforte and wishing Lord Grampion weren’t such an eligible parti.

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