“At the moment, he is too concerned with a match for his prize bitch.” Which turned out to be a very good thing indeed.
Mr. Jones returned, balancing a tray in one hand and a sheaf of folders in the other. Once she and Punt had consumed their cups of tea and a few biscuits, he arranged the files on the table.
“I have them sorted by location with relation to London, my lady.”
“Thank you.” Punt handed Vivian her notes on each of the properties in which she was interested. “You might wish to look at my thoughts on which ones I think will suit me best. At some point in the next few weeks, I will travel to the estates closest to Town.”
“Very good, my lady.” He scanned the papers she’d given him. “Excellent. I shall have the answers to your questions in the next few days.”
Vivian rose. “Thank you. Please send them directly to me.”
The young man jumped up, almost turning over his chair. “I shall, my lady.”
That had gone well and was not nearly as fraught with difficulties as she had imagined it would be. On the other hand, the elder Mr. Jones had not been present. Perhaps Vivian would be better off dealing with the son on a permanent basis. He appeared anxious to acquire his own clients.
Vivian arrived back to her cousin’s house in time for tea. When she entered the morning room, Clara held a large gilt-edged card and what looked to be a letter.
She glanced up. “Well, this was a surprise.”
“What is it?”
“We’ve been invited to Lord Sudbury’s masquerade. Normally, I would not entertain taking either you or Silvia, but his sister, Lady Mansfield, wrote me a lovely letter assuring me it would not be one of his lordship’s usual parties.”
“What on earth does that mean?” Vivian sat next to her cousin, who handed her the letter. “Goodness, how bad is his lordship?”
“He was always a bit of a rake. Since he never wed, he had taken to enjoying a different circle of people.”
“I understand.” Or she thought she did. Nevertheless, she did not wish to inquire further.
“It’s a shame he has not had the benefit of the restraining hand of a lady to guide him,” she mused.
Vivian bit back a bitter laugh. She’d had no luck at all inrestrainingher husband. “Indeed?”
“Oh yes. Gentlemen have no notion how to go on without a female showing them the way. He’d asked for my hand, you know.”
Vivian had not, but was certain she was about to be told. “I thought your husband was your one true love.”
“In many ways he was, and we had an excellent marriage.” An odd look that Vivian could not decipher came into Clara’s eyes. “It was a difficult decision. I was enamored of both of them, you see. For different reasons, naturally, but my papa picked George over Sudbury, and there you have it. I always thought he would find another lady and wed, yet he never did.” She folded her serviette. “I blame myself.”
That was interesting. Could Clara still be interested in his lordship? “When is the masquerade?”
“In a few days. We will have to decide on costumes immediately. I might have some things in the attic if the moths haven’t got to them.”
Tea arrived with the small sandwiches Clara preferred over biscuits. Perdita showed herself, sitting hopefully at Clara’s feet.
Vivian poured. “Where is Silvia?”
“Gone to an outing to Richmond with a group of other young people. I don’t expect to see her for another hour or so. Lord Oliver arranged the party.”
“It looks as if his lordship is growing fond of her.”
“Yes.” Clara took a sip and frowned.
“Is something wrong with the tea?”
“Of course not. I am not sure I like Lord Oliver. He is not at all like his parents and the older brother. Very unsteady. I trust Silvia will keep her head about her. She is not normally a fanciful girl.”
Vivian thought back to the conversation she’d had with her friend. “I think she will be able to separate the wheat from the chaff, as it were.”
