Harriet nodded and followed the modiste to the dressing room.
By the time Eleanor and Harriet finished with the modiste and returned to the Dalling estate, it was nearly time for tea. When they walked into the parlor, her grandmother was already seated in the chair beside the fireplace.
Harriet walked to her and bussed her cheek. “Oh, Gran, wait until you see the new dress Mama commissioned for me. It’s the most beautiful pale pink silk I’ve ever seen.”
“That sounds lovely, my dear.” Marian looked at Eleanor. “We’ll need to watch our girl closely before she breaks the hearts of every young man in Bath,” she said, chuckling.
Eleanor smiled. “Indeed we will.”
Harriet didn’t mind the slight teasing, but the only heart she wanted to engage belonged to the enigmatic Lord Hartley. The man was a puzzle, and she loved puzzles. She hadn’t found apuzzle yet that she couldn’t solve, and she didn’t want Lord Hartley to be the first one that stumped her.
Chapter 8
After leaving Lady Collin andLady Harriet at the modiste, Lord George Spenser walked to one of the quaint little houses situated on the edge of Bath. He couldn’t keep the smile from his face as he let the knocker fall of the blue house.
A maid opened the door. “May I help you, my lord?”
“I’m Lord Spenser. Is Miss Weston receiving guests today?” George asked. It was past the usual visiting hours, but he hoped that worked in his favor. He didn’t want to share Miss Weston’s company with anyone else, as he thoroughly enjoyed talking with her about a variety of subjects. Young women’s topics of conversation were typically restricted to the weather, the crush of the ballroom, or the floral arrangements. The bland conversation dictated by Society drove him to nearly tear his hair out. He’d danced with many debutants over the years, and nothing much had changed. Weather was usually the topic of conversation. How many times could one talk about the weather?
Miss Weston, on the other hand, could talk about a variety of subjects, including textiles, ledgers, and business practices. Textiles was the business her father had made all his wealth from. George thought he’d look into investing with Mr. Weston at some point, but today, he just wanted to enjoy the young lady’s company.
“Please come in,” Ellie, the maid, said, opening the door and stepping back to allow George to enter. “If you’ll wait in the parlor, I’ll see if Miss Weston is receiving guests.”
George looked around the parlor. The room was on the smaller side but nicely furnished in shades of blue and gray, mimicking the various colors of the ocean, depending on the day. He didn’t have to wait long for the lady in question to appear.
“Lord Spenser, what a delightful surprise. I wasn’t expecting you today,” Miss Weston said.
George bowed. “I hope you’ll excuse my unexpected visit, but after spending such an enjoyable time with you at the last Assembly Hall dance, I thought to continue our conversation. Would you care to take a stroll? It’s a lovely afternoon.”
He watched her lips turn up in a brilliant smile. “Thank you, my lord. That would be most agreeable. Excuse me a moment while I tell my aunt and retrieve my bonnet and gloves.”
She left the room, and he could hear whispering beyond the door. No doubt she was enlisting the services of the maid to join them. They weren’t engaged, and Miss Weston would need her maid as chaperone even in the more laid-back atmosphere of Bath. Too many of the ton flocked to Bath for the summer and would relish hearing about a new scandal. George would never put Miss Weston in that position.
“But miss, I have to help Cook prepare dinner,” he heard whispered in the hallway.
“Ellie, go with Lydia. All will be well with dinner,” another female voice said.
George surmised it was Miss Weston’s aunt, Mrs. Kennedy, who’d spoken. She was a lovely older woman, widowed for nearly ten years now. As Mr. Weston’s sister, she was the perfect chaperone for the young lady. He enjoyed talking with her almost as much as with Miss Weston. She had a sharp wit and an even sharper mind, even though she presented the picture of the doddering widow to the ton. Nothing could be further from the truth, and George admired how well she looked after her niece.
“Lord Spenser, how lovely to see you again,” Mrs. Kennedy said, walking into the room without the help of the cane that was ever-present whenever she was in public.
George bowed over her hand. “Mrs. Kennedy, I’m glad to see you looking so well today.”
She smiled, and he guessed that she understood his meaning. He’d seen through her persona, and she knew it.
“Yes, the ocean air does wonders for my knees,” she said with a wink.
“Ah, yes. The ocean has many healing properties. I enjoy my ocean swimming as well.”
Miss Weston soon joined them, wearing a very pretty blue sprigged muslin dress with a white ribbon under her bustline, along with her maid, Ellie. “Shall we go, my lord?” she asked, tying her straw bonnet’s ribbons.
George nodded to Mrs. Kennedy and held out his arm for Miss Weston. “Of course.”
“Goodbye, Aunt. We won’t be too long.”
They strolled along the main street with Ellie following at a respectful distance. “I do hope you don’t mind that I called upon you after visiting hours,” George said.
As they walked along the shore, a gust of wind nearly blew Lydia’s bonnet off, and George reached up and grabbed it before the ribbons untied.
