“Nevertheless, he’s part of your family and staying at your house. It’s only proper. Besides, what is one more person at our table?”
“You do have a point.” He took a paper from his pocket. “We must take a look at Phoebe’s list of entertainments for the week.”
“And compare them with where Charlotte and Louisa are going. What time is it?”
His stomach picked that moment to growl. “Time for tea.”
Grace leaned her head back to look at the clock giving him perfect access to her neck. It was impossible not to nibble it. Her giggle rumbled under his lips. If he could only keep her this relaxed.
Chapter Eighteen
Dominic Sylvester Henry, Tenth Marquis of Merton, Eleventh Earl of Scarsdale, and Baron Bradford, frowned at the mirror.
“What is it, my lord?” his valet, Witten, asked.
“I thought I saw a spot, but I daresay it was a shadow.”
His valet peered closely at the snowy-white neckcloth. “It must have been. I see nothing, my lord, and I inspect every piece of linen that comes back from the laundress.”
Merton placed his gold-rimmed quizzing glass, pocket watch, and fobs about his person. Not too many, of course. One would not wish to draw Brummell’s fire at Whites later. “I believe I am ready.”
Witten opened the door and Dom stepped into the corridor, making his way to the grand staircase and thence to the drawing room where he’d been instructed to wait until the family was gathered. As it turned out, he was the last one to arrive.
“You are late.”
He turned to find a tallish, fashionably dressed young lady glaring at him and bowed. “I beg your pardon, Lady Louisa, is it not?”
She curtseyed. “It is. Now we must be off.” She took Worthington’s arm and led the other three sisters out into the main hall to the door.
Lady Worthington, the only one left, curtseyed, and Merton offered her his arm. “Good evening, my lady.”
“Good evening, my lord.” Her tone was slightly chilly.
Being in Worthington House must be similar to being in an enemy camp. Why had he even bothered to honor them with his presence?
He followed the others across the square, up the shallow stairs to Stanwood House, and into the drawing room.
A striking lady, not in her first blush, came forward to greet him. From the way Worthington gazed at her, she must be his intended.
She curtseyed. “Lord Merton, how very kind of you to join us. Your mama is a connection of mine. We shall consider you as family.”
Thank the Lord. Someone who knew what was due his rank. He took the hand she offered and kissed it. “Lady Grace, how could I have stayed away?”
She smiled politely. “Obviously, you could not.”
“Not if you wanted to eat, that is.” Worthington smirked.
Leave it to his cousin to ruin the mood. “Thank you, Worthington, for your acute observation.”
Lady Grace glared briefly at Matt. “I shall introduce you to the others. Some of whom I believe you’ve already met.”
Merton was formally introduced to the children he’d met earlier to-day. He turned to meet the sister who’d gone shopping and was struck dumb. Standing before him was the loveliest young woman he’d ever seen. Her hair matched her elder sister’s and her eyes were the same arresting deep sky blue, but there the resemblance ended.
Which was strange since they actually looked very much alike. Her skin seemed to glow with more luminescence.
Humor lurked in her gaze as she rose from making her curtsey. She was no taller than Lady Grace, but she was sylphlike in her carriage. Dom took her hand and kissed it, then forgot to give it back. “Lady Charlotte, I am enchanted.”
Her perfect lips curved in a smile. “Thank you, my lord. We are pleased you could join us.”
