“It was nice.” Mama frowned. “Thus far, we seem to have at least one thing in common.” Actually, more than one thing.
Her brows inched up toward her lacy cap, and she took a long drink of tea. Perhaps he should offer her a glass of wine. He might need one as well. It had not occurred to him that his mother would decide to interrogate him about his ride with Lady Adeline.
She poured another cup. “And what would that thing be?”
“Farming.” Frits felt a flush rise in his neck. Good Lord, not that. He wasn’t fifteen or even seventeen and hadn’t been for years. “We also discussed schools for the children on an estate.”
She glanced at the sideboard. “I shall have a glass of wine.”
Good. Despite what he’d said to Lady Adeline, this was one of those times when a glass of claret was required. Acceding to his mother’s wishes, he poured two glasses and brought the decanter with him as well.
Mama drained half the goblet. “I realize that you love the estate, and farming, and the entirety that goes along with it. However, I really do think you could . . . could find it in yourself to make more elegant conversation with a young lady.”
He supposed he could have talked about the weather or asked about her likes and dislikes. But he’d found out a great deal about her by discussing pineapples, and pigs, and farming techniques. Next time he would ask about her. He was interested in what Adeline thought and wanted. “But I needed to know what she thought of the area I like the best. I did not do that with Lady Dorie and look what happened.”
“Yes, well.” Mama refreshed her glass of wine. “I suppose you have a point. A happy marriage is mostly made up of shared goals. If she wants to be in Town hosting political parties and you want to be at Littleton or one of the other estates mired in as much muck, mud, and dirt as your tenants, that would not do.” She focused her eyes on his. “Even though your behavior might make this Season more difficult, I do commend you for recognizing that you and Lady Dorie would not have been happy together. It is entirely too easy to think oneself in love with someone who is wholly wrong for one’s happiness.”
It was on the tip of Frits’s tongue to ask who Mama was thinking of other than Dorie. That statement appeared to have its roots in a hard-won truth, but he decided not to. As far as he could tell, his parents had been extremely happy until Papa died a few years ago. If asked, Frits would have said they’d made a love match. Even if there had been someone else before they’d wed, it was long in the past and had not been destined to last. “Precisely my point. Aside from that, she enjoyed talking about farming. I could see it in her eyes.” He took a drink. “I told her about the pigs.”
His mother cast her eyes to the ceiling and groaned. “Then I suppose you must be correct about her. It is a sweet story, but many fashionable ladies would think it quite provincial at best and disgusting at worst.”
He’d never thought of it that way. Perhaps that was the reason he’d never told Lady Dorie the story. Maybe that also was the reason he had never called or even thought of Lady Dorie by her name when he wanted to call Lady Adeline, Adeline. “I think you are right. The problem is that I feel as if she is holding herself back from me.”
“Of couse she is. You did hurt her friend,” his mother pointed out drily. “Any good friend would do the same.”
He swirled his glass, watching the wine leave a clear coating on the side of the goblet. “What do I do about it? The only thing I can think of is to speak with Lady Dorie and explain why I left.”
“At present, I cannot think that would work out well for you. Essentially, what you would be telling her was that she was not right for you, but you think Lady Adeline is, and could she please forgive you so that you can court her friend.”
Put that way, it really didn’t sound very good. “So what do I do?”
“Be patient. If Lady Adeline is the right lady, there will come a time when she must recognize you are the only one for her, and she will relent.” Mama finished her goblet and rose. “In the meantime, be a consistent presence. I am going to take a nap before dinner.”
“Don’t forget, we are attending the Rothwell ball.”
“I have not forgotten. I am not in my dotage yet.” Mama gave him an exasperated smile and left the study.
He glanced at his wine and took a healthy swig. If he had to be too patient, he might start drinking more. He’d felt a physical pull to her as he never had with another woman. As if she was his lodestone. This evening he would waltz with her, and he already knew he wouldn’t want to let her go. But how he was to convince her to pick him over her friend, Frits had no idea. That would not be easy.
And how was he to protect her from other men when he wasn’t positive what he and Lady Adeline would be to each other? He only knew that he had an urge to do so that would not be denied. In fact, he’d start tonight. The only thing he could do to shelter her while he waited for Lady Adeline to decide he was the right gentleman for her was to keep other gentlemen away from her. Especially Anglesey. The man was up to no good. Frits could feel it in his bones.
He finished his glass and poured another. With any luck at all, he’d hear from Elizabeth Harrington soon. Still, Anglesey wasn’t the only man who’d be interested in Adeline. There were quite a few gentlemen this year who were seeking wives. If only he could do what the first Baron Littleton had done and make off with the lady, marry her, and keep her hidden until she was clearly with child. That thought made him consider what he’d do to make sure she was his. His shaft hardened, and now that he’d thought about it, he could not unthink it.
He didn’t nap, but a cold bath wouldn’t go amiss. This afternoon he’d avoided looking at her plush form, the way her spencer hugged her breasts and hid them from view. Tonight, she’d be in an evening gown and the gentle swell of her bosom would be on display. The problem was, it would be on display for all the other gentlemen to see as well. Frits tossed off his wine. This was going to be a blasted difficult night, and he hadn’t even seen her yet.
He was going to start praying he wouldn’t have to be patient for too long. His fortitude had never been tested before, and suddenly his long-dead Norman ancestors were clamoring for a fight.
Blast it all. He was doing it again! Yet how in the hell did he make himself slow down?
* * *
Adeline was thrilled with her ball gown, the very first one she had ever owned. It was cream silk and embroidered all over with flowers and vines. The bodice had pearls and brilliants in it so that when she moved, it sparkled under the candlelight. Stepping back from the mirror, she saw that the skirts caught the light as well. “I have never had anything so beautiful!”
“I have to say, that Madame Lisette did a wonderful job.” Fendall handed Adeline her reticule and fan.
“I am so glad Eugénie’s friend recommended her.” Adeline couldn’t resist one last look in the mirror.
Her maid draped a spangled shawl over her shoulders. “You’d better go or you’ll be late.”
