“I’m glad about that.” The Worthingtons and the Mertons were all very close now. Henrietta recalled what her brother-in-law had said about the gentleman he saw and wondered if he could be the gentleman who had helped her. “Can you describe the man you saw walking the Wolfhound?”
“About my height. Chestnut-colored hair.” He shrugged.
That was not very helpful. “Are his shoulders broad like yours?”
He exchanged a look with her sister, who tried to stifle a chuckle. “I suppose so. I must say that I don’t make a point of spending time thinking about a man’s physical attributes. I am more likely to notice how he is dressed so that I know his status.”
That was what everyone did. Dress and the way one spoke could tell one everything one needed to know about their place in life. “I asked because he sounds like the gentleman I saw in Whitechapel.”
“If he is someone you should meet, he will be at the same entertainments this Season,” Merton said in a way that she knew meant he wouldn’t budge.
“But what if he is not part of thehaut ton?” It was a good question. Quite eligible gentlemen did not always attend the balls and other events she attended.
“The next time I see him, I shall make a point of discovering his identity.”
And that was all she could hope for. “Thank you.” She glanced at her sister. “Do you want to hear about the gowns I ordered?”
“If you wish to tell me, but I already received the list from Madame. I must say, you were rather frugal.”
Henrietta shrugged. “I did not see the point in new day dresses when we can add new trim. The most important thing that has changed is that the skirts are much wider, which does not help me at all, being as short as I am.”
“That is unfortunate.” Her sister, who was the same height, pulled a face. “Did you get any other shopping accomplished?”
“Yes, Dorie came with me, and we went to Hatchards, then to the bazaar for stockings and other things. Madame will send over swatches of cloth to the shoemaker. I asked her to pick the colors for my gowns. It will be nice to be surprised. I’ll purchase new bonnets later.” Henrietta rose. Merton had moved behind her sister, placing his palms on her shoulders. Clearly, her sister and brother-in-law wished to spend time together.
The longing she had begun to feel rose within her. Someday, she would have a husband. Perhaps before this Season was finished.
* * *
After Fotherby closed the door on his retreat, Catherine, Viscountess Fotherby, glanced at her dresser of many years. “I believe we have a problem.”
The dresser nodded sagely. “What are you going to do about it?”
“Write a letter to the duchess.” Catherine went to her desk and pulled out a piece of pressed paper. “This must go by messenger. If she is not at her estate, he will have to find her.”
“Yes, my lady.”
Two days later, she received a missive asking her to visit the Dowager Duchess of Bristol, grandmother of the Marchioness of Merton and Miss Stern, at the duchess’s suite in the Pulteney Hotel. Catherine and her old friend had exchanged correspondence for years. After the “incident,” their exchange of letters had increased, with the duchess making a point of asking about Fotherby’s progress. And Catherine was extremely glad she had. Not that she in any way thought the duchess was prescient enough to foresee this complication. Yet the lady her son had described sounded too much like Henrietta Stern for Catherine to be sanguine. Fotherby had acted horrendously toward Lady Merton before her marriage, and Catherine had to discover whether the Mertons were ready to forgive him. If not, and the ladywasMiss Stern—which was not as yet certain—Fotherby had a long, hard road to travel if he wished to gain the lady’s affections. And that was if Miss Stern would have anything to do with him. Would he then return to the country? He was nearing thirty and must think about an heir. Which meant he had to marry.
Catherine, as always, dressed with care. There was never any point in putting others off because of one’s appearance, and took the town coach to the Pulteney, where the duchess’s butler announced her.
She entered, holding out her hands. “Duchess, I am so glad you are in Town.”
“Catherine.” The older woman took her hands and bussed her cheek. “I did not come last Season because I was certain Henrietta would take.” The duchess frowned. “Well, she did, but she liked none of them enough to wed. Not that any of us are in a rush, but one must admit that the longer one waits, the harder it is.”
Catherine removed her gloves and handed them to the butler. “Yes, well, we might have a small problem in that regard.”
The duchess drew her into a well-appointed parlor that, as always, was decorated with the duchess’s own possessions, including paintings on the walls. Her friend led her to a sofa covered in a silvery-blue velvet. “Please, let us be comfortable and have a cup of tea. I always find tea helps smooth over difficulties of all sorts.”
Once the tea tray arrived and the duchess poured them both cups, she asked, “You mentioned a possible problem in your letter. What is it?”
Catherine took a breath and hoped that her dear friend would think as she did. “You remember, probably all too well, what Fotherby did to your granddaughter, and my promise to keep him in the country until he matured.”
“Yes.” Her friend nodded. “I understand from your letters over the years that he has changed a great deal.”
“Indeed he has.” In fact, he was now a son of whom she was proud. She felt her lips forming a small smile. “I have never seen a more dramatic transformation. The only reason he came to Town, and decided to stay for the Season since he was here, is that neighbors, a gentleman farmer and his wife, lost their son before his marriage. The girl was made to leave her home. We could only imagine she was with child. He hired a runner and refused to allow the Odells to pay the whole of the fee. Then, when she was found, he brought them to Town to fetch her.” Catherine took a sip of tea. “And that is when I believe he met your granddaughter Henrietta. Naturally, he did not introduce himself, nor did she introduce herself. But his description was striking, and they met in Whitechapel, where she was rescuing a child. He thinks she works for a charity.”
“And that does not bother him?” the duchess asked in a curious tone.
