“Our meeting went as expected.” Lucien masked the resentment that gnawed inside him. After discovering the full extent of the Earl’s perfidy two years ago, Simon had shut their father out of his life and never looked back. But necessity demanded Lucien and his father make business decisions regarding the earldom’s estates, forced conversations that gradually dulled the cutting edges of past sins. The exchange with Cassandra and Jane at Everdene Hall had sharpened the blade again.
“Everdene,” Lord Elliot said stiffly.
“My business took less time than expected,” Lucien explained. “I do hope my arrival does not prove an inconvenience.”
The woman in the cream bonnet bustled up and took Lord Elliot’s arm, her plump face beaming. “On the contrary! You are very welcome, my lord!”
So this was the stepmother who had upended Grace’s life, Lucien thought, regarding her with an appraising eye. “You must be Lady Elliot.” He sketched her a bow. “Viscount Everdene, at your service. Best wishes regarding your recent marriage.”
“We understood you would not be joining us,” Lord Elliot said between clenched teeth.
Cassandra walked toward them. “Where is Jane?” Lucien asked.
Cassandra shook out her skirts. “Jane joined mother in Galen’s Well for a bit of respite,” she said, her eyes locked on him. “Too much time in company troubles her.”
My company in particular, Lucien thought with a twinge.
At that moment Grace swept from beneath an awning and bustled toward him, a vision in buttercup yellow. The sleeves of her gown ended in a bell shape just below her elbows, a fichu of fine white lawn was pinned at her throat with a brooch. Her hair was caught up in a loose chignon, and Lucien wondered how many pins he would have to pull from those shining tresses to make them tumble free down her back, the way they had in the kitchen at Everdene Hall.
“Welcome to The Willows!” Grace exclaimed, as the wee pirates surrounded her, one wielding a cricket bat, looking ready to defend her. “Captain Harcourt said you were off to London.”
“Far better to avoid cities for now.” Lady Elliot gave a delicate shudder. “We’ve heard the most alarming reports about unrest there. My dearest Lord Elliot and I had to cut our honeymoon in Paris short for safety’s sake. The rabble were throwing up barricades and rioting in the streets. One hears the most alarming things about what is happening up north and in London. Is it true mobs even marched up Pall Mall and St. James’s, breaking windows at the gentlemen’s clubs?”
“Yes. I’m afraid it is,” Lucien admitted.
“I was at Whites when the riot broke out,” Arkwright supplied. “For once, Everdene wasn’t there.”
Lucien had been arguing with a cadre of Tory lawmakers about how to deal with the public’s growing dissatisfaction, urging them to provide pure water and better drainage in poorer areas, insisting better health for one meant better health for all. He’d have had better luck dealing with a riotous mob.
“Someone tried to shoot the queen herself!” Lady Elliot exclaimed, fluttering her hand in front of her breast.
“It was pure luck her attacker forgot to put a bullet in his gun,” Penelope interjected.
“I am sorry the man gave the queen a fright,” Grace said, “but we must look to the reasons behind the unrest. People are hungry, and not all landlords are as forward-thinking and caring in regards to their tenants as the Harcourts are.”
Her father cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should turn our attention to more pleasant subjects, my dear,” he said, looping his arm around his bride.
But Lady Elliot would not be so easily deterred. “I can only say I’m grateful that there are men like Lord Everdene who will crush this anarchy. Especially when we need to prepare for Grace’s return to society.” She turned to Penelope. “Will you be going to London for the season?” she asked.
Penelope looked as if Lady Elliot were suggesting a visit to the tooth drawer. “Heavens, no.”
“Lord Everdene,youwill be there, of course,” the new Lady Elliot continued, undaunted. “And pursued by all of those desperate women, no doubt.” Her lips curled in what passed for a teasing smile. “Yes, my lord. Your wicked fame as the Elusive Viscount E has reached us even here in the country. You know, our own Grace will be making her grand re-entry into society. She has been so good, these past years, caring for her dear Mama and Papa and brothers. But now, I am here, and determined she shall enjoy herself.”
Lucien felt a prickle of annoyance as he remembered Grace’s confession at Everdene Hall. God knew, she deserved to be released from years of seeing to her family’s needs. She deserved trips to the theater, waltzing at balls, all the diversions London could offer. But he suspected Lady Elliot’s real motive was to wrest control of the household away from Grace, and it left a bad taste in his mouth. “Have you enquired as to what Lady Grace would prefer?” he inquired.
“What young miss doesn’t love a London season? I’ve never been blessed with a daughter,” Lady Elliot continued. “My late husband and I…well, it was not to be. I intend to enjoy every minute of mothering this dear girl.” She laid a hand on Grace, and Lucien saw Grace give an uncomfortable smile. “We’ve gowns to buy and dressmakers to visit. If Mrs. Harcourt can suggest any modistes the ladies of the ton are favoring I would be grateful.”
Since Penelope had been a governess before she and Simon met, she’d hardly been frequenting shops Lady Helen might consider.
Simon laughed. “If it was a shop filled with books on architecture, my wife would be waiting with bated breath. She has served as my brother’s hostess when necessary, but she’d prefer to be in the study with architectural drawings spread across the desk.”
“Architectural drawings?” Lady Elliot looked as if Penelope had just sprouted a Doric column from her head. “How…singular.” She turned to Lucien. “Your lordship, I hope we can count on you to see that our Grace’s dance card is full. She has been away from London so long, she’ll be short of acquaintances.”
Grace’s cheeks turned scarlet, but before she could speak, her father cut in.
“I am sure Lord Everdene has no time for such frivolous matters.” Lord Elliot’s brusque tone made his wife’s eyes go wide, and startled Grace as well. “His lordship is a very busy man. I am astonished he made time to come here today.”
“Of course,” his wife said, “but perhaps Lord Everdene could make time for?—”
