“Not you. I had hoped to make more progress with Lady Adeline this evening.” There was no harm in telling Turley what Exeter had said. “However, the problem of Lady Dorie might soon be resolved. Exeter is interested in marrying her. He thinks she is trying to avoid him, but he doesn’t understand the reason. He wanted to know what happened between us, and I told him.”
“Encouraging a new romance, thus drawing her ire from you?” Turley seemed doubtful. “I am not at all certain that ladies overcome what they perceive as slights that easily.”
That was not at all what Frits wanted to hear. “You would be much more of a help if you did not keep shooting down my ideas, or came up with some of your own.” He tried to attend to the singing, but as excellent as Mrs. Fodor was, he could not get his mind off his courting problems. At least his friend hadn’t reminded him to go slowly. “Would you like to attend the theater? My mother is making up a party.”
Turley looked in the same direction Frits had been gazing. “Do you think she would invite Miss Featherton?”
Frits felt a slow smile form on his face. That was the reason his friend had stopped nagging him. “I think that can be arranged.”
“A comedy?” Turley raised a hopeful brow.
“Indubitably. I see enough tragedies in real life.” The song ended, and everyone began to applaud, even the servants.
“In that case, I would be delighted.” Turley heaved a sigh. “My life and that of my sister would have been so much easier if our mother hadn’t died when we were young.”
“I don’t say it often enough, but I’m very glad I still have mine.” Especially now, when Frits was having so much trouble with Adeline. “You do know she would be more than happy to help you?”
“At the moment, she has her hands full with you,” Turley scoffed.
Frits couldn’t deny that. He saw Exeter speaking with Lord Huntingdon, Lady Dorie’s father, and considered including Exeter in the theater party, but he’d want Lady Dorie to be invited and that would defeat Frits’s purpose for the outing.
“Speaking of tragedies,” Turley said, clearly still thinking about the play, “there are a number of us planning to introduce a bill to repeal the Corn Laws. I’d like you to join our group.”
Frits would dearly like to see the law repealed. All the damn thing did was create misery for the populace who could not afford any more strife. “Send me the proposal and I’ll read it.”
“We’re meeting tomorrow morning before the session.”
Turley sounded so hopeful that Frits hated to disappoint him, but that was a slippery slope. Not to mention that Adeline didn’t care to be part of a political set any more than he did. “You know I do not discuss politics. If I have any ideas that would improve the bill, I shall make notations.” When his friend didn’t respond, he said, “My father always said—”
“Yes, yes, I know.” Turley, of course, had heard it the last time he tried to cozen Frits into a political conversation. “That discussing these things leads to an inevitable loss of time with one’s family and a possible loss of friends. But the only family member present is your mother, and all of your friends are supporting this bill.”
“My mother who”—Frits held up his finger—“has agreed to assist me in my pursuit of Lady Adeline. And, once one starts, it is hard to stop.”
“I can’t argue with that,” Turley grumbled. “However, politics is an invigorating activity.”
Frits knew an attempt to tempt him when he heard it. “I must fetch my mother. I shall tell her about Miss Featherton.”
Turley pushed away from the wall. “Good luck. I still think you are going too fast.”
“I thank you, despite your doubts. I wish you the same.” Frits did wonder what problem Turley could have with Miss Featherton. It wasn’t as if he was involved in any perceived misdeeds.
* * *
The next morning, Frits—fully aware that his mother had not mentioned anything to Adeline about him accompanying the footman—and Humphries presented themselves at Watford House. The butler answered the door. “I am sorry, my lord, but Lady Adeline did wait as long as she could.”
It was only ten o’clock. “Can you tell me what time she left?”
“Close to an hour ago.” The butler eyed Maximus, who was happily wagging his tail. “She will be at least another half hour, but if you would like to wait?”
“No, thank you. We must be on our way.” Why the devil hadn’t Frits or someone asked her when she went for a walk?
As they made their way back to the pavement, Humphries looked at him from under bushy brows and opined, “You have to get up early to catch the worm.”
Frits sighed. “I do not think Lady Adeline would appreciate being likened to a worm.”
“A bird?” the footman said, as if trying to guess the answer.
“No. The bird catches the worm.”
