Grace shooed the others into the shop, leaving him alone with Thea.
He would most likely have to put up with this orgy of shopping until their marriage. “Send a message round when you return.”
Thea’s face brightened. “I will. If we are too late for the Promenade, I’ll see you this evening.”
“You shall and this time I can remain at your side the entire night.”
She gave a light laugh, and he released her to join the others. Tonight, he’d ensure that no gentleman would be under the impression theirs was a marriage of convenience. He walked back up to Piccadilly, then to St. James Street and White’s to enjoy a beefsteak.
Fotherby accosted Dom as he stepped onto the shallow stair leading to the door of his club. “You are actually going through with it?”
Dom raised a brow. “I take it you saw the notice.”
“How else would I know?” Fotherby replied peevishly. “You’re never at your usual haunts these days. I just don’t see how you could marry that chit.”
Once again, anger at the way Fotherby referred to Thea speared through Dom. Yet he wasn’t about to allow the man to ruin his mood. He made himself shrug noncommittally. “What would you have me do?” Fate had handed him the perfect opportunity to have what he wanted. But he was not about to discuss his desire to marry Thea with Fotherby or anyone else.
The man was rapidly becoming a dead bore. “The fact remains that I am.”
“I suppose I should wish you happy,” Fotherby huffed. “I’d feel a deemed sight better about it if I thought she wouldn’t lead you on a merry dance.”
Dom struggled to keep his lips from tilting up. She would indeed keep him busy, yet he would always know where he stood with her. “If she does, it won’t be for long.”
“I suppose there is nothing left to say. I saw what happened to my brother just before his wedding. You’ll be as busy as a three-legged dog.”
“There is that.” Dom wondered if he’d be called on for an opinion of the ceremony or wedding breakfast at all. The ladies seemed to have it all in hand. “I still have a great deal of work to attend to. Duty does not stop because of a wedding. Unless you’d like to dine with me, I shall bid you good day.”
“Wish I could. M’mother’s in Town and made it clear she expects me at the house.” Fotherby inclined his head and walked off.
Dom couldn’t believe how relieved he was that his friend had other obligations. Two hours later, he climbed the steps to his home and was met by Cyrille, who gazed up at him, clearly expecting attention, and Tom waving a piece of paper in his hand.
“My lord, see what I’ve done. Mrs. Sorley says I’m a prodigy.”
The boy’s cultured accents became more pronounced with each passing day. Thea had noticed it when she visited the other afternoon. Dom took the paper, a drawing of Cyrille asleep in Dom’s chair in his study. Although it was done in pencil, the child had captured the detail of the cat’s shimmery coat against the slick leather of the chair. Someone had taught the child how to draw. Who the devil were Tom’s parents and how was Dom to find out when the lad refused to speak of it?
“That is excellent. We must find you a drawing master.”
The boy’s whole face shone with pride. “Thank you, my lord.”
What would have happened to Tom if Thea hadn’t rescued him? Most likely, he would have been taken to the local gaol, then possibly a workhouse, if not worse. Dom must do whatever it took to find the child’s family. “Can you tell me where you lived when you were with your mother?”
The boy’s countenance shuttered. “I’m not supposed to tell, or I’ll get what for.”
He signaled for tea to be served in his study and took the child by his hand. “I am confident I can assure you that as long as you are under my protection, no one will harm you.”
The boy was silent for several moments. “You kept me from dying.”
“Er, yes. Not only the first time but subsequently as well.” Bath time was still difficult. Fortunately, once assured he had given one of the footmen his power to keep Tom safe, Dom had not had to attend the lad’s ablutions again.
Tom hopped up onto the sofa, and stared at Dom. Finally, he nodded his head. “I don’t know the address, but I’d recognize it if I saw it again.”
He wanted to groan. This was liable to be a long and painful process. “Outstanding. Perhaps we’ll take a drive in my curricle. You’ll like that.”
Tom nodded his head up and down so hard, Dom thought the boy would rattle his brain.
Tea arrived. Mrs. Sorley poured a cup and gave it to him. She handed a mug of milk along with a jam tart to Tom. “You eat that all up, mind. You’re still too skinny.”
“I will.” Tom nodded. “It’s very good. Even Cook’s wasn’t this good.”
