Despite it being the middle of the day, Lottie was in her mistress’s bedchamber again while the two sisters added names to the seating plan they were creating for the first formal dinner of Lord Wennington’s secret birthday house party on the night of what they now all referred to asthe Surprise.
“She’s right, dear,” said Lady Wennington as she deliberated between two of the nine squares of paper that represented the eligible young ladies who had so far confirmed their attendance. “It is none of his business.”
“But I was so rude to him yesterday.” So rude she had definitely overstepped the mark—again—but the man never failed to get her dander up. Each time she attempted to be pleasant to him, he seemed to lose his temper with her more, and that brought out the worst in her. “When I suppose, technically, he only had Lady Frinton’s best interests at heart.” Begrudgingly, she thought it admirable that he didn’t want his dragon of an aunt taken advantage of. There was some innate nobility in the curmudgeon despite his objectional character. The sort of man who looked out for old ladies and saved trapped goslings couldn’t be all bad, even if he thought badly of her.
“What did you say, dear, that wasn’t the truth?” His mother placed one of the paper squares on the seating plan two chairs away from her son. “Guy has, by increment, become a grumpy, impossible-to-please curmudgeon in the last few years. I genuinely despair of him sometimes as he never used to be like that. Once upon a time he was more like his gregarious father, with a ready laugh and an optimistic attitude, but he has changed. And not for the better.”
“We blameher.” Lady Frinton pulled a face and both sisters shuddered, then promptly returned to their study of the seating plan as if that was explanation enough.
“Her?”
“The woman we dare not mention in his presence.” Lady Wennington dropped her voice to a whisper in case her son was listening at the door. “Conniving Florinda the Duplicitous Duchess. She led him on a merry dance to snare her duke, broke his heart, and he’s never been the same since.”
“She stole all the joy from his soul,” added Lady Frinton, unaware that she had echoed something of Lottie’s tart response to him last night. “And seems to have put him off women for life. Hence, we have to reignite his interest in them.” She watched her sister place a square of paper directly opposite Lord Wennington on the plan and instantly took issue with it. “Who the blazes is Abigail Maybury? She wasn’t on my list.”
“She’s a neighbor, so was on mine.” Lady Wennington seemed pleased with her placement. “I sent the Mayburys their invitation before you arrived.”
“I take it that as you’ve given the chit the best seat, sister, she is a preferred contender as your future daughter-in-law?”
“Good heavens, no!” Lady Wennington shuddered again. “She is the most irritating girl I have ever met. Doesn’t laugh so much as bray like a donkey and does so to excess and at the slightest provocation. She will not do at all. Guy cannot stand her.”
“Then why, Constance, have you given her that seat?”
Lady Wennington’s eyes danced. “Because she is utterly shameless in her pursuit of him. Does nothing but fawn and flutter her eyelids and, giventhe chance, hangs on him like a limpet. Obviously, I’ve given her every chance to do so as an incentive to force Guy into finding his own bride just to spite me—all to no avail. However, I have high hopes that by putting her front and center at his celebration, not only will she make all the other ladies appear more attractive to him, she will also give them all the impetus they need to thrust themselves at him shamelessly too. The more temptation we put in his way, the more likely he is to be tempted.”
“Well, in that case…” Lady Frinton placed another square on the other side of him. “We should also torture him with Lady Lynette Connaughlty.”
“Will she tempt him?”
“She’ll certainly tempt him to find swift solace with someone else.” Lady Frinton cackled. “A more arrogant, pompous, and emotionally oblivious a chit as you’ll ever meet. Fancies herself up there with the Queen of England and could talk the iron legs off a donkey. Mostly about herself.” The old lady rolled her eyes. “Ad nauseam.”
“Oh yes! She sounds perfect.” Lady Wennington chuckled with glee. “Then if we sprinkle some halfway decent young ladies close by, he’ll be automatically drawn to them because they cannot possibly be as bad!”
“Indeed, sister. The more strategically we appear to match him with the wrong woman, the more chances he has of finding the right one just to spite us.”
Both sisters sniggered at that logic but Lottie couldn’t join in. Not now that she knew Lord Wennington’s heart had been broken and that he was noble deep down. It didn’t sit right. Neither, suddenly, did this ruse that she was involved in. On the one hand, was it fair to meddle in the romantic affairs of a man who had been burned by love when he clearly wasn’t ready? But on the other, maybe these meddling sisters knew best. All these machinations were designed with his future happiness in mind and they wouldn’t be doing this at all unless they cared about him. Surely? Sometimes a person needed a push.
And sometimes, they didn’t.
What was the right thing to do?
Which ultimately was the crux of the matter because what precisely could Lottie do? She saw both sides and had the added complication of being Lady Frinton’s employee. One that had to do as she was told because her family was in dire need of her wages.
Maybe not pondering it was the answer and it would sort itself out? And maybe she should concentrate on being a proper lady’s companion seeing as fate had thrown her this timely bone? It wasn’t as if she held any sway on the outcome anyway.
“If I am not needed, my lady, I might take another trip home to see if there is any more post waiting.” A solution that removed her from the problem today, at least, and one that would certainly take her mind off of it.
Lady Frinton did not even look up as she waved her off. “Good idea, Travers.”
Lottie hurried out in case the old lady changed her mind and quickly dressed in her habit. She was on the way to the stables to fetch Blodwyn when she heard the commotion coming from the exercise field, turned, and saw two young grooms wrestling with Hercules.
Like Bill, who was running toward them from the direction opposite, she did not know which of the three to worry about the most.
“Let him go, idiots!” Bill got to the gate before her. “One kick from him could break your legs!”
They both did as instructed and backed away, leaving the horse still attached to the line, bucking to dislodge the flapping saddle they had tried to put on him.
“What the bleedin’ hell did the pair of you think you were doing?” The head groom let rip as soon as he had dragged the second lad to safety over the fence. “I told you to exercise him, not try to ride him!”
