Chapter Sixteen
Weston had sentthe copies of the count’s likeness to Cornwall for a confirmation that he was the fellow poking around looking for the sloop and the Mosquito. He sent them to Tobias Wright, the local innkeeper. He was a man of good sense, long known to Lord Ledderbey, and knew absolutely everybody in the area. If the count had been there, he would have stayed at the inn. Even if he did not, Wright would show it around. Local people would hear of it and start coming into the inn to have a look. If somebody had seen the count, Weston would find out about it.
As for the original sketches that had been done, he’d had a copy made of Lady Valor’s likeness. He’d hesitated in doing it, as he felt there was something underhanded about it. Should not the lady in question approve such a thing?
Lord Ledderbey convinced him otherwise, though Weston was determined to admit to it to Lady Valor when a convenient time presented itself.
The rest he had framed and they would be delivered to each person. He assumed Lady Valor would be very approving of her own as it was a rather glorious sketch. In any case, it certainly beat any Susamelle a foreign count could come up with. He was still annoyed about those stupidS-shaped biscuits, though it soothed him that Lady Valor had disdained them.
In the meantime, he’d taken advantage of the duke’s open-doorpolicy for his heir. He’d gone the very next day and suggested a ride in the park. This was met with enthusiasm, though it had turned out to be an interesting operation. The duke had brought Lady Valor in his carriage, a groom had taken her horse for a gallop and then returned the mare to the lady. After the saddle was changed, she was helped to mount, and then they walked their horses across a green.
It came out that she did not like to go faster than a walk so it was thought efficacious to tire out the horse, a Dales pony named Tulip, before she got on.
Weston had never heard of a lady who only walked her horse, though he found something endearing about it. He had come to the conclusion that Lady Valor was an easily startled sort of lady. He did not mind it, rather it began to give him ideas of being very protective. He would not mind that at all. He’d spent the past years employing all his bravery and derring-do toward frustrating the French. Perhaps it was time to put it in service of a lady.
Now it was the day of the prince’s fête and Weston had begun to wonder if this night might be an ideal time to ask Lady Valor for her hand. He had initially thought he must wait until the count was dealt with, but he’d begun to think differently.
For one, there was no danger to Lady Valor in being engaged—she would still be quite safe in her father’s house. For another, it would close the door in the count’s face regarding any ideas he might have of winning the lady. For yet another, if the rumors of the prince’s party were true, there could hardly be a more ideal place to ask the question. It was said that the gardens were to be illuminated by thousands of lights and flowers would bloom everywhere. It really seemed like the sort of thing a lady would find romantic. At least, that was his best guess. He’d not spent much time in his life thinking about what would be romantic.
He’d put the sapphire necklace in its delicate velvet case in his coat pocket.
The other matter that had to be arranged for was Lord Ledderbey. The duke had claimed they ought not take the carriage as the streets would be crowded for miles. Walking over was no trouble, it would take them only twenty minutes or so, but that was a deal too far for Lord Ledderbey.
The lord had claimed he would stay at home and not mind it, but Weston could not be comfortable with that. He’d finally hit upon a solution. He’d thought to hire a sedan chair but then they all seemed to be hired. Then he realized for the right price he could outright buy one and supply his own manpower. Then he began to consider how muddy the roads were at this moment and concluded that Lady Valor could not be expected to walk through them in delicate ballroom slippers and bought two. Four of his strapping grooms were to get extra wages and days off for carrying both chairs there and being on hand in the early morning hours to take them back again.
Weston supposed that all his years of not spending much money as he’d been too busy on his sloop to gamble or otherwise fritter away his money was paying off, as the price of the whole palaver was exorbitant.
No matter, it was done. The chairs were outside and it was time to go. They’d been kitted out comfortably with very padded seats covered in dark velvet, a footrest, and wool blankets should there be a chill.
“Gracious,” Lord Ledderbey said, having a look at his conveyance, “I am to go in high style it seems. I suppose the duke was approving of the idea for Lady Valor?”
“He does not know of it yet, but he will be. The duke is eccentric, but underneath that eccentricity is a deal of commonsense.”
“I imagine you’re right. Well! Let us get this circus going, as that duke would say.”
*
Valor had puton her second-best dress. There was one other that she held back for the moment she might wed, but this was really a close second. It was a delightful seafoam green, very close to the color she’d seen in a book of colored pictures of the islands of the South Pacific. An artist on theHMS Endeavorhad composed pictures of the various islands visited and there had been one in particular that looked so peaceful and serene—an island dotted with palm trees and surrounded by clear waters. Madame LaFray said her coloring could stand up against it, though Valor might have chosen it even if her looks could not stand up against it. She simply adored the color. The underlay was silk and the overlay a floaty chiffon, with just a simple matching silk ribbon round the waist. It was divine.
At least, she hoped Lord Tramondeley thought it divine. Their time in the park had really been something. She’d come right out and said she was frightened to go on her horse any faster than a walk. Rather than looking with disdain upon that fact, he’d only nodded and said, “If it frightens you, you ought not try it. We are in no hurry, in any case.”
She peeked out the drawing room window as it grew close to the time that Lord Tramondeley was to walk over.
“It’s dark out, Val,” the duke said. “I do not suppose you will see anything of Tramondeley until he is practically at our door.”
“True,” Valor said, “I can see better out my bedchamber window.”
“Been spying on my heir out your window, have you?”
“Once or twice,” Valor said, laughing.
“Tramondeley would be flattered to know it,” the duke said, “though I certainly hope he doesn’t know it. A duke’s daughter staring out her bedchamber window to get a look at a gentleman across the way? Your aunt would be apoplectic. Hah! Maybe I’ll keep that bit of information in my pocket and throw it at her the next time she irritates me.”
Valor suddenly saw the lord coming round the square by the roadrather than across the gardens.
“Papa, goodness, he’s brought sedan chairs. Oh of course he has, how inconsiderate were we to not take into account how difficult the walk might be for Lord Ledderbey.”
“Ah yes, I hadn’t thought. You say he’s got more than one, though?”
