Chapter Eleven
Weston had thecarriage called but had it wait outside the house while he kept an eye on the duke’s house from across the square. He intended to arrive at the same time that Lady Valor did. He wished to avoid being commandeered by Lady Letitia, and he wished to prevent Lady Valor from being commandeered by the count.
He saw her come out of the house in a pretty blue pelisse with flashes of pale-yellow silk underneath it. He helped Lord Ledderbey into the carriage and they set off behind the duke’s coach.
“Now my boy,” Lord Ledderbey said, after having observed the operation, “it is clear as day that you prefer Lady Valor to any other lady.”
“Perhaps,” he said.
“I wonder, do you hesitate because of the duke? If that is all, I would not consider it a hindrance. You need not move into the Dales with the fellow.”
“But then perhaps when we can return to Cornwall, when it’s safe to do so, she would not like it. I do not get the sense that she approves of my nighttime sails.”
“No lady is going to approve of that,” Lord Ledderbey pointed out.
Weston had not thought of it that way. He’d not mentioned it to any other lady so he could not say what their views on it might be.
“If you will wed, and I do think it is high time, you must seriouslyrethink how far you go to risk your person. A lady puts her life in the hands of a gentleman and as a bare minimum expects him to keep himself alive. Otherwise, she is a widow living on a jointure. Furthermore, if you are not to be the duke’s heir and produce an issue to carry on the line, God only knows what will happen to it. You have duties other than spying for England, my boy. I am sure the admiral would agree if he were still with us.”
Weston did not respond, as the admiralhadagreed when he lived. He had several times urged Weston to give it up. The information he gathered was helpful, but not so helpful as to risk the life of a duke’s heir. The admiral had counseled that he did not wish to have a tragedy laid at his door.
When Weston had begun the habit of trailing after frigates, it seemed impossible that any tragedy could occur. He’d been sixteen and no sixteen-year-old was capable of considering their own mortality. He would live forever it seemed. Of course, he was older now, and could consider it, but he’d continued with the night sails out of a sense of duty. Did not other men risk their lives in service to England? Why should he be exempt just because he was an heir presumptive to a duke?
“My boy, we are even now wondering if the count is the same person who was in Cornwall looking for you and the sloop. You cannot put a lady into a situation so dangerous. If you wish to wed, you must get out of this business.”
He supposed it was something to think about if he were set on Lady Valor. Considering how darkly he looked upon the attentions of the count to that lady, perhaps he was set on her. He’d not expected it to be so, but there it was.
“My advice? Do not pass up a chance at a good life by continuing an effort that does not really need to be done. Our navy is well able to track the French. Furthermore, do not pass up a chance at happiness just to spite the duke,” Lord Ledderbey said.
Weston was a bit stung by the idea that the navy could get on perfectly well without him. Was it true? If itwastrue, then had his forays into the night only been some sort of self-gratifying operation?
As for spiting the duke. Well, if he’d been asked that while he was still in Cornwall, he’d have gone all in for spite. Now though, he’d lost most of his rancor for the man. The Duke of Pelham really was too eccentric and odd for him to carry on with it.
They had pulled up behind the duke’s carriage at Lady Jellerbey’s front doors. He did not wait for the groom but leapt out of the carriage and put the step down for Lord Ledderbey. He gave him his arm to steady him and called over. “Your Grace. Lady Valor.”
She was looking exceedingly pretty. She gave him one of her pretty smiles. Yes, he thought he must be set. He’d just chased her carriage to a party, what else could he be? He would just have to think about giving up his nighttime activities, which seemed rather hard, but probably necessary.
“Tramondeley, Ledderbey,” the duke said. “We must have left at exactly the same time.”
Weston got the feeling the duke was not particularly fooled by the coincidence. He was eccentric, but he did not miss much.
“It seems so,” he said.
“I suspect we had the same idea of when we ought to leave,” Lord Ledderbey said, attempting to offer cover.
“No doubt,” the duke said with a smirk. “Well, here you are. I suppose you can lead my daughter inside?”
The duke was a master at throwing him toward Lady Valor. He did not mind being thrown. He held out his arm to Lady Valor. She laid her delicate gloved hand upon it.
“Have you ever been to a candlelight picnic held indoors, Lord Tramondeley?” she asked.
He laughed. “No, I did not imagine such a thing existed.”
“Yes, I suppose it is a bit eccentric, though my father finds it amusing.”
Weston supposed the duke would find anything eccentric amusing. He might not even notice it was eccentric.
“We did get your party invitation and of course we will come. My father and I are very interested in discovering the nature of a Cornwall traditional party.”
