“It is too bad you cannot attend Parliament,” Montagu said, shocking Giff so much he almost spewed out his tea.
What the devil? “Why do you say that?”
“I was at a meeting at Worthington House yesterday. Several gentlemen I met have wives who will hold social events this Season. Of course, you know Turley. I believe even Littleton is supposed to be in Town this year. But I also met Exeter, who is also a friend of Turley’s, and, of course, Worthington as well as some other peers. If you were a member, you would come to know the gentlemen more easily.”
“Ah.” St Albans considered his friend’s statement. It made a lot of sense. “For some reason, I hadn’t thought of our friends’ spouses holding entertainments. Silly of me really. Of course they would. They are part of theton,and this is the Season after all.” They rode to the Serpentine. There was only one serious and insurmountable problem with what his friend had said. “I hope not to become a peer for a number of years yet. As much as m’father irritates me at times, I do not wish him dead.”
“There is that.” Montagu sounded sad, and Giff remembered that his father had died only a few years ago. “I hope you get your wish.”
“As do I.” Giff would be happier being the heir as long as he could have some real responsibility. “There they are again. The ladies. They’re leaving.” He was closer this time and could see that one had dark hair and the other two had blond hair. They looked almost exactly alike, but somehow different. The one on the far end caught his eye as a shaft of light shone on her. There was something about her. A quality he could not put into words. If he was a poet, he’d say that she had hair the color of the sun and a complexion like fine cream. But he wasn’t, and that didn’t capture what drew him to her. He was now certain he’d be introduced to her at some point. He was positive her family ran in the same circles as his. Or at least their mothers would.
“I wonder who they are,” Montagu mused softly.
“We’re bound to find out at some point.” Giff hoped it was soon. He was thankful his mother arrived today. Montagu had been so serious about wanting a wife who hadn’t a thought in her head that Giff decided to have some fun. “But it occurred to me late yesterday that if you want a lady who is a bit dim, you might want to appear the same yourself. Otherwise she could be wary of you.”
At first Montagu appeared startled, then it was clear he was taking the bait. “That is exactly what I will do. Thank you for the hint.”
“Anything to help a friend.” Oh, good God! He was actually going to do it. This ought to be interesting.
Again, Giff joined Montagu for breakfast.
“Littleton was right. This ham is excellent.” Montagu cut another piece.
“Did he tell you what he feeds them?” This was something Giff could do once he was given his estate.
Montagu swallowed. “Chestnuts.”
“I’ll have to suggest it to m’father.” Maybe that would hurry the process along. “Have you visited Weston yet?”
“No. He has my measurements. My valet sent over my requirements. You?”
“I have an appointment later this morning. I like to go myself. It gives me something to do.”
Montagu frowned. “Will your father not give you any responsibility at all?”
“Not until I’m wed.” Giff drank the rest of his tea and rose. “I must be off. By the time I bathe and change, I will have to be at Weston’s.”
“Of course. I’ll see you out.”
As they strode to the door, Giff wondered if his mother might have some suggestions of things to keep him busy. In the meantime, he had his appointment at Weston’s and would go through his invitations. After he’d been fitted for a few new suits, he strolled down Bond Street, then over to Bruton Street, and Piccadilly. When it occurred to him he was looking for ladies he could be introduced to, specifically one lady, he went home. It was a sad state of affairs when one was reduced to roaming the streets. After luncheon, he went to his desk and read through the cards. It was as he suspected, none of them were for events where young ladies would be. The rest of the afternoon was spent visiting Angelo’s and Jackson’s. But even they were thin of company. Fortunately, he arrived home as his mother’s and father’s personal servants along with the baggage were disembarking from the coach. That meant his parents would be here in an hour. Not for Mamma a hall filled with luggage. She wanted everything put away before she stepped into the house. Giff left a message to be notified as soon as their coach was sighted and was in the hall to greet them.
“Mamma, Papa, how was your journey?” He hugged his mother and shook his father’s hand.
“Excellent,” Mamma said as she removed her bonnet. “The roads were dry, and, of course, we only stay at the inns where we are known.”
“What have you been doing since you arrived?” Papa asked.
“I had a card waiting from Montagu.” Giff told them about their rides, but not the ladies.
“I had heard his father died,” Mamma commented.
“Yes. He’s here looking for a wife. He was never on the Town. We have decided to help one another.”
Papa raised a brow. “That’s the blind leading the blind.”
Giff couldn’t argue with that. Instead he gave his most ingratiating smile. “That is the reason our mothers are here as well.”
Mamma graciously inclined her head. “Indeed it is. Come along with me. I expect to have received several invitations that should interest you.” She glanced at their butler. “Ardley, I’d like tea in my parlor.”
