“Miss Mayton,” Darden said, untangling himself from his sisters and bowing, “you are looking very well.”
Miss Mayton blushed, as she always did when Darden paid her a compliment.
“This is really very pleasant,” the earl said. “We will settle to dinner and hear all of Darden’s news and he will hear ours. We only wait for Van Doren before going in.”
There were various muttered “Van Dorens” heard at the mention of him, most in a grumbling sort of way. Juliet rounded out the comments with, “I believe you mean Viscount Scoldy-Breeches, Papa.”
Chapter Five
Matthew had beennear crippled by the time he reached his own house on Portland Place, and a deal crumpled too, as he’d not brought his valet on the journey.
Fortunately, that valet had been at the house for days and had been prepared for his arrival. Marcus had seen that buckets of water were simmering on a low heat in the kitchens so as to have a bath ready when it was wanted and he had clean and pressed clothes at the ready.
It had been rather blissful to be in the quiet order of his own house, sans one earl, one deranged matron, five unruly girls, a plethora of servants, one extra boy and four extra cats.
He’d really rather have taken a long hot soak, had a brandy, and repaired to bed to allow his legs to recover from all the riding. Excessive riding, too, as how many miles had he been put to in retrieving Juliet’s awful book of poems or searching out Charlie’s father’s small farm, which had been miles off their route?
However, he’d told the earl he would come to dinner and so he must go. It would likely be his last opportunity to pound some sense into Beatrice’s mind before she was let loose on theton. He might even find a quiet moment to acquaint Darden with the landscape of his sister’s delusions.
As he lay back in the tub, Marcus said, “I hope you had a pleasant journey, my lord.”
This was said quite facetiously, as Marcus had grown up in the neighborhood and was well-versed on the idiosyncrasies and erratic nature of the Benningtons.
“Pleasant?” Matthew said. “Well, let’s see. We stopped a thousand times for Juliet to regard the landscape and compose an ode—cows, fences, doorways, nothing was too small to be left out of the ode writing. You will know that though these odes were deemed remarkable, the book they were written in was left behind three times.”
Marcus shook his head sadly.
“They proceeded to order ham absolutely everywhere we stopped and Viola, for reasons only known to herself, ate it as slowly as possible. This, I believe, was meant to annoy me and was entirely successful.”
Marcus bit his lip.
“We were joined for dinner on the second evening by some very refined people, who were forced to endureOde to a Fence, along with Miss Mayton’s current literary obsession with a one-eyed duke and his governess. Oh, and of course, she had to tell of one of her invented love affairs again. Gregorio, the one who stabs himself.”
“Poor Gregorio. It took him a full half-hour to die, if I recall rightly,” Marcus said.
“And a full half-hour for her totellof him dying. Apparently, he was quite the talker while bleeding to death. Then today, there was a thrown shoe, we met one of Darden’s foppish friends, we had to stop to allow Viola to get out and walk because she ate too much ham, we encountered a boy with four kittens and quite naturally, we put the catsandthe boy in a carriage and brought them with us. All in all, it was as expected.”
Marcus, of all people, understood what he’d been through. As evidence of that fact, his valet sent a footman to fetch a glass of ale to begin to unwind his lord’s mind from his recent travesty of a trip.
Now, Marcus had made him presentable in clean and newly pressed clothes and he walked across the wide avenue to Westmont House.
No, he did not walk. He limped. Matthew had thought hot water and ale would ease his muscles, but he found that had only been a temporary relief.
He stepped gingerly lest his legs give up altogether and he end falling to the ground. It would be a humiliating way to end—run down by horse and carriage while trying to roll off the street.
He could see the family gathered in the drawing room as nobody had closed the curtains. They surrounded Darden, the finest but always missing brother.
Beatrice’s hair shined in the candlelight. He had always noted the yellow gold glints amongst her amber locks when they caught the light of the sun or a candle.
Other gentlemen would notice too, no doubt. They would be as moths to a flame.
Until she announced her requirements, in which case they would flap away as soon as possible lest they be consumed by the fire of her delusions.
Though it was only a few steps up to the door, Matthew was only got there by gripping the railing. He was fortunate therewasa railing, else he’d have to crawl his way up.
As he struck the knocker, he thought he would either wake up on the morrow improved or completely immobilized.
He straightened himself and attempted to appear uninjured as Tattleton opened the door and showed him in.
