“Now?” Exeter sounded shocked. “But we have another meeting.”
“I need to hit someone, and it’s better I do it there than here.” Gavin was having trouble being polite to anyone at the moment.
“I shall tell you if anything of significance occurs.” Exeter placed his hand on Gavin’s shoulder. “I wish I could tell you what to do.”
“So do I.” He wished someone, anyone, could tell him what to do.
Chapter Five
Lucinda, the dowager Viscountess Featherton, was in the morning room of the house she shared with her oldest and dearest friend Constance, the dowager Duchess of Bridgewater. After searching for several months, they had been lucky to find the property on Mount Street that pleased both of them. Lucinda looked up from the letter she had received by messenger from the dowager Lady Littleton—what a pity that they all had dowager as part of their titles. There must be a better way to address widowed peeresses—in response to a letter Lucinda had written to her longtime friend. She was determined to find out whether Viscount Turley was indeed the right gentleman for Georgie. If not, she and Constance would simply have to find another prospect for the poor girl. “According to Cristabel, it appears that Viscount Turley’s father lost his beloved wife and proceeded to promptly lose his mind, leaving the boy to keep everything together at a young age. Ergo—”
“The stupid boy has decided that, despite all the evidence to the contrary, he might do the same.” Constance scowled. “Men are such fools.”
“Well, theycanbe,” Lucinda said slowly. “But you must admit that not all of them are.”
“No, no, you did a wonderful job raising yours. And if Turley’s mother had not died when the children were young, he would not be having this particular problem. But what are we going to do about it?”
“She—Cristabel has a plan.”
“I am glad someone does,” Constance grumbled.
Lucinda grinned. They had been going round and round and had still not come up with a suitable scheme. “She will arrive in Town late today. She might even be here now.” She did not even bother to give her friend the letter to read. Constance preferred to be told the information.
“Does she wish to stay with us?” Constance asked. “We can easily have rooms made up for her.”
“No, she has sent orders to open up Littleton House. Once she explained the matter to her son, Littleton agreed that she should become involved. I do hope she comes by soon after she arrives.” Lucinda found the passage she wanted in the letter. “She writes that Frits is convinced that Turley is in love with Georgie, but that he is too afraid of putting the viscounty at risk if he allows his heart to rule him.”
Constance grunted. “Perhaps I was a bit harsh when I said Turley was a fool.”
“He also opined that his friend was deluded for thinking that anyone can tell their heart what to do.” Lucinda had to agree. Although it was amazing how many people tried to do just that with horrible results.
“He has a point there.” Constance frowned. “If only more people, young and old, realized the heart has a mind of its own.” She reached over and tugged the bellpull. “What role are we to play?”
“That will remain to be seen. However, I shall tell my maid to have my traveling bag packed. There is no telling when we might have to dash off somewhere.”
“I shall do the same,” Constance responded.
Lucinda was about to rise when a thought occurred to her. “It will behoove us to find a way to convince Turley to visit Littlewood.”
“Perhaps that is the reason Cristabel is coming to Town.” Constance laid her book in her lap. “For all we know he has no idea where she is.”
“Hmm.” Lucinda perched her elbow on the arm of her chair and placed her chin on her hand. “Or he does know but either has no interest in following her, or he has been given to understand that she does not wish to see him, or has been told not to follow her.”
“I think that describes all of our options, but how shall we discover which one it is?” her friend asked.
“I believe we must rely on Cristabel to find the answer.” Lucinda heaved a sigh. “It might be tomorrow before we see her.”
“You might not have to wait for long.” Constance pointed toward the door. “It appears we have company.”
No sooner than she had finished the sentence than their butler announced their friend. “Cristabel, my dear.” Lucinda rose to greet the younger woman. “We are very glad to see you.”
“I did hope that you would not mind me simply coming by.” Cristabel embraced Lucinda and held her hand out to Constance. “What a pickle that young man has made of the whole thing.”
The tea tray arrived and Lucinda poured. “So we gathered. He definitely made a mess of it with poor Georgie.”
Cristabel withdrew the pin from her bonnet and removed it. “What a lovely room. I adore how you have combined the richer colors with lighter ones.”
As much as Lucinda wanted to get on to her granddaughter, this was one of her favorite rooms in the house, and it was the result of a great deal of compromise. “Constance selected the wall coverings”—a rich red—“and I found the hangings to lighten the room.” Lucinda had been fortunate to find a lovely print on a white background with splashes of the same color as the walls. “We are very pleased with the results.”
