He was the first gentleman who had not blanched when she mentioned taking them up. He had, apparently, also changed his perspective on her driving one. “In that case, let us pay for our purchases and go to Gunter’s.”
After gathering up their books, he offered her his arm, and they went to the clerk’s desk where Grace’s volumes were waiting. She handed the man the books she had decided to purchase. “Please wrap these as well.”
Once that was done, the clerk attended to St. Albans’s books. He took all the packages, and they strolled to the pavement where Robertson was walking her pair. Without asking what to do with them, St Albans deposited the packages into the box built onto the back of the carriage as they passed it. He then helped her into the phaeton.
As she settled her skirts, St. Albans climbed into the other side. “I assumed you’d tell me if the books didn’t go into the box.”
Alice gifted him with a smile. One of the few he’d received from her. “You did well. We added it for that purpose.”
“Thank you.” This was the first time Giff had not had to worry about conversing with Alice. It occurred to him that if he had just treated her as a person he would have been much better off. Still, he took what her sister had said to heart. He would become her friend.
She turned toward her groom. “I will see you at home.”
“Yes, my lady.” The man bowed and strode off.
“I very much like your phaeton.” It was painted the same color as the Dunnock bird’s eggs. It had gold piping and seats in a tan-color. A very practical convertible cover was matched to the blue of the carriage. Her dappled gray horses seemed designed to coordinate with the overall color scheme. “Your pair are beautiful. Are they Percherons?”
She smiled at him again. “They are. We looked at a few different breeds, but the Percherons are known for their steady temperament.”
Thus, making them excellent carriage horses. Giff remembered the name she had given her hack also indicated a dependable temperament. That must be important to her. He was dependable. Giff must remember to show her that trait. “They are indeed.”
Alice started the horses and expertly wove her way around the traffic to Berkeley Square and Gunter’s.
She pulled up to the side of the street and a waiter ran out. “Would you like to hear our specials?”
“Yes, please,” Alice immediately responded.
Giff just nodded, and the man rattled off several different types of ices. He glanced at her.
“I will have the raspberry ice.”
“I will try the pineapple.” It was a flavor he’d never tasted before.
Alice turned to him. “Harry said it was very good, but Madeline really only likes chocolate.”
Giff hadn’t known Stern took Lady Madeline to Gunter’s. And on a fairly regular basis it would seem. “I don’t know what I would have done without your help. How did you become so knowledgeable?”
“Grace taught us as she did our sisters before us.” Alice’s light laughter reminded him of tinkling bells. “Even Augusta had to learn, and she is really only interested in languages.” Giff had no idea who Lady Augusta was, yet he suspected she was at the breakfast he attended and probably at one other event. As if Alice knew he was having trouble placing her sister, she said, “She was the lady next to Phinn Carter-Woods. They are married.”
Giff had heard Carter-Woods had wed. “Ah, yes. Dark hair and looks very like Lady Madeline and your sister Rothwell.”
Alice nodded as the waiter returned with their ices. She took a bite and closed her eyes. Just seeing her enjoyment made him hard. If only he could make her look like that. Hoping to cool himself down he quickly ate his ice,. A highland loch would have worked better.
“Will you tell me why your father would not teach you how to care for your future estates?”
Her question ended his vision of her with him in a loch. “It is some sort of strange tradition. I’m not at all sure how far back it goes, but his father, my grandfather, did the same thing. The heir is only allowed to have the heir’s house and learn by doing when he is married. I was not even allowed to ask our steward to teach me.”
One brow rose. “The reason you wish to wed is so that you can have the estate?”
Of course, she would pick up on that. “Me? No. I mean, I do want the estate. It is my favorite of them all. But he has held it over my head since I came down from St. Andrew’s. I refused to consider marriage until I was ready to have a wife and children.”
Her concentration on him was so intent he wanted to run a finger under his collar. “Is that the reason your uncle left you his estate?”
“I don’t know. It might be. He and my father didn’t like one another.” She was extremely shrewd. “My mother’s father made my father agree that I would spend part of every year in Scotland. Usually over New Year’s and in summer.”
Alice nodded sharply. “That sounds like something Matt would do.”
Once again, he noticed the similarities with her family and his mother’s. “So I have heard.”
