The Wolfhound lifted his head and stretched before getting to his feet and stretching again and going to the door. Whoever he married would have to like having dogs in the house. He hoped Miss Stern liked dogs. When they reached the stable, he waved away the stable boy, who was already mucking out the stalls, and saddled his horse.
“Have a good ride, my lord.”
“I only hope I don’t get too wet.” Darragh’s hooves clattered on the cobblestone street.
Soon his little group entered the Park. Nate paused for a moment and gazed around. Most of the trees had buds but wouldn’t be in full leaf for another few weeks. Early spring flowers dotted the lawn, and birds flitted from place to place searching for food. It was the first time he’d been here this early, when no one else was around. He moved the horse forward and let Darragh set the pace. For several minutes the horse went no faster than a walk. Traveling in a wagon must be as tiring on a horse as it was on a human. Perhaps Nate should have waited another day or so. Padraig amused himself by chasing the birds and came back looking pleased with himself.
Now that Nate had a suit of clothes he could go to one of his clubs, but he was undecided as to which one he wanted to visit. White’s would be the most obvious choice. Or would have been. He had a membership at Brooks’s as well, but he’d never been there. He supposed he’d have to decide whether he wanted to brave the chance of running into Worthington or Merton. Early in his time at home, Nate had received letters complaining that his old friend had changed parties and was now a Whig. That was a decision he’d have to make as well. He doubted his current views agreed with the Tories. Most of the laws they passed seemed to benefit themselves and not the populace in general.
He glanced at the sky and patted his horse’s neck. “It’s time to start back. Padraig might not care about the rain, but you don’t like it at all.”
Just as he reached the turn for Grosvenor Square and South Audley Street, rain started pelting down, convincing the horse to trot instead of walking. Nate glanced to the left, making sure Padraig was still near him, and saw two ladies riding into Grosvenor Square. Both had dark hair. But only one of them looked familiar. Two thoughts came to him at the same time. It was her, and Merton lived in Grosvenor Square. Nate heard himself groan. He might just as well return to Ouse Tower. If he’d had any doubts at all about her relationship to Lady Merton, they had ended. Merton and his wife wouldn’t allow Nate within a mile of her sister. Not after what he’d done. “My life has become much too complicated lately.”
He guided the horse to his stables, and his groom came running up.
“The boy said you’d gone out.” Jones stroked Darragh’s nose, and Nate swung down from the horse. “We’ll get you dry.” The groom glanced at him. “You best get dry too. Padraig looks like a drowned rat. Do you want me to keep him here until he won’t make so much of a mess?”
“It won’t do any good. This rain looks like it’s here to stay for a while. Give me something, and I’ll dry him when I get to the house.”
Jones handed Nate a large, folded cotton cloth. “That should do it.”
He tucked the towel in his jacket. “Thank you. Padraig, come.” He raced to the house and entered through a door the servants used. Before he could unfold the towel, the dog started shaking the water off him. “If I wasn’t already soaked, I would be now.” Nate covered the hound with the cloth and started to rub, but the dog kept moving around, trying to direct his drying efforts. “Hold still.” By the time he was done, a puddle of water had formed on the floor, and he dropped the soaked towel over it. “That’s not going to do much good. We need to find someone to clean it up. I’m pretty sure they won’t let me do it.”
He took the servants’ stairs to his rooms, then tugged the bell-pull. Styles poked his head out of the dressing room. “Are you ready for a bath?”
“I am. We left a puddle of water near the back door. I tried to take care of the mess myself, but—”
“I’ll send someone to clean it up.” The valet grinned. “I’ve never seen a dog hold so much water.”
“Only because the other dogs around have short hair.” Nate stripped down as pails of hot water were brought in. “You timed that nicely.”
“Even Padraig doesn’t like cold rain. I expected the horse to rush to the stables but remembered that he might not know the way back yet.”
“He quickened his step. Fortunately, we weren’t far.” The footman left, and he padded over to the tub, sinking into the hot water. “I suppose it’s a good thing I wasn’t wearing new kit.”
Styles glanced down at Nate’s boots. “The wool is fine. It’s the boots that are going to be a problem. You’ll be wearing shoes or slippers until these dry and I can get them polished.”
“My new ones should be here soon.” Nate took the scrap of linen hanging on the side of the tub and ran soap over it. “I’ll order a second pair as well. I should have brought my others, but they’re well-worn and look it.”
His valet picked up the boots and stuffed them with rags. “Did you plan to go anywhere today?”
Not now. He wasn’t going to take the chance of ruining his shoes as well. His wet boots shouldn’t feel like a gift from fate, but they did. Still, he couldn’t put off making the rounds too long. “No. I must look over some correspondence.”
“I’ll have them ready by morning at the latest.” Styles set the Hessians back a bit from the fire.
It was good to have a valet who didn’t become miffed at wet boots or other things. Nate’s old valet had left not even five months after he’d been sent down from London. He’d gone without—which hadnotbeen fun—for almost a month before he’d found Styles. Nate had never had a more pragmatic valet before. Then again, he’d only had one other valet. He grinned to himself. The day he’d come home with mangled gold tassels on his boots, his old valet had broken into tears. Nate didn’t even want to think what the state of the tassels would have been if Padraig had got hold of them when he was a puppy. Nate shook his head. How could he have been so unkind to that other puppy? Lady Merton had been right to have rung a peal over his head.
“Are you ready to rinse, my lord?”
He looked down at the soapy water. He hadn’t even remembered washing himself. Not that it took much thought. “Er, yes.” He stood and dumped a bucket of clean water over himself. “I’m becoming distracted.”
“It happens to everyone at some point or another.” He was glad for the valet’s calm good sense.
“I suppose it does.” But it hadn’t happened to him in several years.
It occurred to him that he had a lot to think about before appearing in public. If only he hadn’t listened to Lady Manners when she’d told him Merton truly did not wish to marry Dotty Stern. Yet Nate had been all too willing to believe the worst of the young lady. Even her argument that he could very well ruin her reputation hadn’t made him change his mind. Recalling the conversation made him cringe. It was almost worse that very few people knew about what had occurred. Merton, his wife, his mother, and in-laws, and Worthington, his wife, and who knew how many of the others. Merton’s cousin Louisa would know, as would Lady Charlotte Carpenter, Lady Worthington’s sister. But he’d heard she had married as well. Who was it? Ah, yes, Kenilworth. And Louisa had wed a duke. Nate pulled on a pair of old buckskin breeches. If they chose, they could make life extremely uncomfortable for him. Not that he didn’t deserve it.
The door to the room opened and closed. Perhaps he should have stayed away for another four years. But it was time he faced up to his misdeeds. At least now he knew he could live, and live well, in the country. In fact, he preferred it to Town. If only he hadn’t met Miss Stern, he’d probably flee back to Ouse Tower.
