His Lordship's True Lady (True Gentlemen #4)(58)
“I am at a loss,” she said. “Perhaps Bronwyn and Daisy might spend another afternoon together?”
A man sauntered in through the park gates fifty yards away, just another pedestrian taking the fine, fresh air, except this fellow had a sizable Alsatian on a leash and was too elegantly turned out to be anything but a lordling.
“My nanny has arrived,” Hessian said, turning his gelding in the direction of the park’s latest arrival. “But we will use this meddling to our advantage. Have you met my brother, Worth?”
Uncle would be pleased with this development, while Lily was uneasy. “I have not.”
“Not since we were children, you mean. Rest assured, Sir Worth is almost harmless now.”
Lily had learned that a blunder was best followed by a swift retreat. She’d blundered this morning with Hessian—over her half-sister’s elopement, among other things—and because she hadn’t withdrawn to regain her composure, her errors were multiplying.
Whereas Hessian was fair, Worth was dark. Hessian was lanky, Worth had a solid muscularity that would be menacing under the right circumstances. He gave Lily a keen appraisal, and that unsettled her as well.
“You must pay a call on my lady wife,” Worth said, bowing over Lily’s hand. Though she was mounted, and Hessian’s brother stood at her stirrup, he was tall enough not to be at a disadvantage on the ground.
“That will suit,” Hessian said before Lily could answer. “Perhaps the day after tomorrow?”
Worth stroked a gloved hand over the dog’s head. “Two of the clock should see the princess off to her nap. Jacaranda will welcome adult company at that hour.”
“Two of the clock,” Lily said. “I will look forward to it.”
The dog cast her owner a hopeful look, and they were soon on their way.
“I’ll call on your uncle tomorrow, then,” Hessian said, “and should my schedule take me to Worth’s doorstep at two of the clock the day after tomorrow, do try to look surprised.”
Tomorrow was much, much too soon. “Uncle might not be in tomorrow.”
The groom was walking his horse in a circle, the hoof beats on the cobbles clattering against Lily’s composure.
“Then, my dear, I will persist and make an appointment if I must. Are you afraid of your uncle, Lily?”
She should have laughed again, but instead she took up her reins. “Of course not.”
“But neither can you trust him to have your best interests at heart. Trust me, then. I do not give up easily.”
Hessian extended a hand, though it was always the lady’s privilege to offer her hand first. Lily let him take her fingers in his and bow from the saddle. The gesture was courtly, and public, and the groom would doubtless report it to Uncle before Lily’s mare was at her hay.
“If you could introduce Uncle to your brother, he might look more favorably on your suit.”
Grampion turned loose of Lily’s hand. “He wants Worth to make him rich? Hasn’t Leggett already a fortune of his own and your fortune to manage as well?”
“I wouldn’t know, my lord, but I cannot caution you strongly enough to deal carefully with Uncle Walter. Anticipate dilatory stratagems at least and outright rejection possibly.”
“I am forewarned.”
Lily took her leave of the earl, wanting nothing so much as to disappear back into the quiet greenery of the park. She instead rode directly home, pondering how she might have better prepared Grampion for the puzzle and problem that was Uncle Walter.
When she reached the mews, Oscar was again sitting on the mounting block, another bottle in his hand. He roused himself enough to assist Lily from the saddle, which confirmed that he’d been out all night. Cigar smoke, sour wine, and sweat perfumed his person.
“Greetings, Cousin,” he said, affecting a tipsy bow. “You look very fetching this morning.”
Lily’s habit was at least five years old. “While you look in need of a bath, a nap, and a shave.”
Oscar studied her, while the groom led the mare away. “I’m grieving, or resigning myself to my fate. Your fate too, I suppose.”
“Oscar, are you sozzled?”
“Oh yes, a bit, and soon I’ll be engaged to be married.” He sat once again on the mounting block and urged Lily down beside him.
“Congratulations, I suppose. I hope you at least like your intended.”
“I like her quite well, known her all my life. Capital girl with gorgeous settlements.”
Oscar was smirking at his wine bottle, while Lily’s insides went widdershins. “Do I know this paragon?”
“You see her in the mirror every morning. Uncle has decided we’re to be married, though you mustn’t let on that I told you. Ceremony won’t be until you’ve celebrated your birthday. I’m finding the notion more appealing by the day.”
Chapter Fourteen
* * *
Walter Leggett’s town house was spacious, clean, and somehow… off.
Hessian concluded this before he’d handed his hat and walking stick to the butler, a dour soul who said nothing other than, “Good day, my lord,” and—when Hessian had passed him a card—“Very good, my lord.”
Perhaps the lack of a child in the house made a difference. No little feet pounding overhead, no miniature parasol in the umbrella stand.