Her color was still high, but her lips twitched, making Frits feel better. She stroked Maximus as he leaned against her. “I suppose it is that way with all longtime personal servants.”
He didn’t even have to look to know the groom was smirking. “It certainly appears to be with mine. Shall we?”
“Yes. Maximus, come.”
Frits led her down the shallow steps and onto the pavement. He was always impressed by how well-behaved the dog was with her. At one point, a squirrel darted out from a bush, and he was getting ready to grab the lead when Maximus looked at Adeline, who handed him a treat. “Good boy.”
She might even get the damned cat to listen. “That was impressive.”
“It is the treats. He is very happy to do as I ask as long as he receives a reward.”
He was not going to let her dwarf her accomplishment. “It is not a small achievement. I insist on giving you the credit you deserve.”
She blushed again. “Thank you.” They didn’t talk, but Frits did not think the silence between them was uncomfortable. When they reached the next crossing, she said, “Tell me about Littlewood.”
“It is the most beautiful of my estates. I would even go so far as to say it’s one of the most beautiful places in England. We have a river that flows through the property, an old wood, and meadows. The house is a comfortable walk from the market town of Littleton, but two villages are also included in the holdings, and several tenancies.”
They had entered the Park, and Humphries took Maximus. Frits and Adeline sat on a bench. “That sounds lovely. What does the house look like?”
“The oldest part of the house is the hall. It dates to the twelfth century. Fortunately, the rest of the house is much newer.” He glanced at her and grinned. “It is only three hundred years old.”
Her brow wrinkled as she looked at him. “Has it been modernized at all?”
He sent thanks to his father and grandfather. “Yes. We have all the modern conveniences. There is even a way to bring hot water through pipes to the floor where the family’s bedchambers are located.”
“My father considers himself very modern, but even we do not have that luxury.”
Frits hoped that meant she would learn to love his home as much as he did. “I think you will find it more than comfortable.” He bit the inside of his cheek. He should have said “would,” not “will.”
“It sounds like it.” She gazed across the open space. “I think Maximus has tired himself.”
He followed the direction in which she was looking and saw the dog lying down. “Would you like to ride with me this afternoon?”
“Yes.” Her eyes sparkled with enjoyment. “I would like that very much.”
Frits arrived at five o’clock to collect her. As they headed out of South Audley Street, he asked, “If you do not mind, I would like to stop at Hatchards.”
“I do not mind at all.” She smiled up at him, and his chest squeezed, making it hard to breathe. “I could go there every day.”
He envisioned them together sitting at Littlewood next to the stream on a warm summer’s day with his head on her lap, or the other way around, and one of them reading to the other.
He had just turned on to Piccadilly, when Adeline shouted, “Look!” She pointed to the side of the road.
What the devil did that cur think he was doing? Frits stopped the carriage. “Can you hold ’em?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “Save him, please.”
He jumped down and grabbed the hand of a man who was once again getting ready to strike a small boy. The child cowered in the gutter.
“This ain’t none of your business,” the ruffian growled, his face mottled red.
Adeline held her breath. The bounder was a big brute. Almost as big as Frits, but brawnier. Frits wrenched the whip handle out of the man’s hand. Before the blackguard could retaliate, he drove his fist into the man’s jaw, and followed it up with two punches to the stomach. As the brute folded over and dropped to his knees, Frits lifted the child, placing him on the bench next to her. Wrapping her arms around him, she held him close and watched as Frits turned back to the man.
“I don’t know what you intended, but I will not stand by and watch a child abused.” He glanced at the glossy phaeton next to the man. It clearly did not belong to the man. “I shall expect to hear from your employer.” During the time he was talking, Frits had been gathering the whip. He raised one brow. “I’ll take this with me unless you wish to feel its sting.” The scoundrel remained on his knees, and Frits flung his card at the beast. “That is my direction.”
“You’ll hear from my master all right, but it won’t be what you want.” The scoundrel spit at Frits’s boots and missed.
Frits stepped toward the cur and the man slunk back. “I wouldn’t wager on that.”
