Chapter Ten
Leland led LadyWinsome to one of the rooms containing a sideboard and poured her a glass of hock. He’d not been at all pleased to find her talking with St. John.
Even less pleased when he’d found his cousin dropping hints about whether the lady might be interested in relocating to the Portuguese court in Brazil. The notion was absurd. Even with the stipend he’d be paid, and that was even if he would be appointed, he could not afford to wed. Nor did he have the sense and maturity to wed, as he’d just mentioned Doncaster and it could be assumed he’d not thought to give up his reckless gambling.
And then for St. John to hint that all his difficulties were somehow his fault? The man was outrageous.
Leland paused his racing thoughts. Of course, St. John could not keep a wife with what he had now, but he could if he got his hands on Lady Winsome’s dowry. If he knew his cousin, he’d take hold of any funds he could get his hands on, stupidly determine to increase it at a gaming table, and promptly lose it all.
“Lord St. John was telling me about a horse named Trulogap,” Lady Winsome said. She stared at him intently while she said it.
“A horse?” Leland asked, thinking that buying a horse was another thing his cousin could hardly afford.
“Yes, apparently there were gentlemen ruined on account of betting against him when he was not really lame.”
“Would not be the first time, I suppose.” Why was St. John telling some story about a lame horse? If he’d lost heavily betting on it, why would he advertise it?
“I just thought, if that were to happen to a gentleman, he might reflect on it and recognize his mistake. Going forward.”
Leland laughed. “Or shrug it off and try again another day, more likely.”
Lady Winsome looked fairly stricken and he could not imagine why. Certainly, she was not developing ideas about reforming St. John? He understood that ladies sometimes liked to try their hand at it. Lady Melanie had been convinced she could inspire Lord Fartherington to put down the bottle once he found himself happily settled. Then she had discovered she was much mistaken.
But if Lady Winsome were thinking of reforming St. John, that would mean she had an interest in him. Could it be so? He’d been so sure there was something developing between himself and the lady. He remained sure, he could not be mistaken. Why would she ever have an interest in his ne’er-do-well cousin and his improbable plan to sail for Brazil?
“Ah, there is my father, tucked in a corner, just as he likes. I see the dowager agrees with him.”
“My grandmother?” Leland asked. How was it possible? She knew nothing of Lady Jellerbey’s soiree and he’d steered well clear of the house since early morning to avoid just such a circumstance.
“Oh dear, they have several bottles they’ve taken off the sideboard and they are heads together. I am afraid my father might bring your grandmother into some mischief.”
“Or the other way around,” Leland said grimly.
“Lady Winsome, Manderbey, I think you know Lady Edith?”
Leland turned to find Landry escorting Lady Edith. “Of course, yes, from Almack’s.” He made every effort to be polite, though he was not particularly enthusiastic to encounter Lady Edith. Or Landry forthat matter. He wished all these people would take themselves off somewhere.
“Lady Winsome,” Lady Edith said, “Lord Landry and I have had an extensive conversation about crop rotations, but I wonder, how do you imagine that might work in a Brazilian climate?”
“Oh, I am sure I do not know.”
“But you ought to find it out.”
“Why?” Lady Winsome asked.
Leland would like to know just the same. Why should Lady Winsome care to know anything about crop rotations in Brazil? Or crop rotations anywhere?
Lady Edith turned to Lord Landry. “Lord St. John did say the lady was interested in Brazil, did he not? I did not mishear?”
“Yes, yes, he did indeed hint at it,” Lord Landry said. “Said he would not be surprised.”
“St. John is rather prone to spout nonsense,” Leland said.
“Guess what?” the duke said, arriving with the dowager on his arm. “We’re going to get tickets to Sir Jonathan’s scavenger hunt in two days’ time. It’s not in the park this year—it’s in his garden, at night. Who’s ever heard of it?”
“It should be a wonderfully ridiculous palaver,” the dowager said. “I’m looking forward to it.”
“Grandmama,” Leland said, “I did not expect to see you here.”
