Page 17 of A Figure of Love

Serena had thought about whatever Sandy was up to almost as much as she’d pondered accepting this unusual employment from an unusual employer.

“Are you going to say anything to Lockheart?” Miles asked.

“I will speak to Sandy first, and warn him to cease whatever chicanery he and Landy are up to. If he does not, I will tell Lockheart, when I go to work for him.”

Freddie looked up at her words and Miles grinned. “So, that’s settled.”

She smiled at her two friends. “Yes, that is settled.

∞∞∞

Serena took three days to work on her proposal after making her decision. She would provide him with a more comprehensive plan once she was settled at Rushton Park, but for now, she wished to comply with their agreement and send him word of her acceptance within the week.

She could have simply sent the plans and proposal to Mr. Lockheart’s secretary by messenger, but she had a curiosity to see his London residence, which apparently also served as his place of business. The distance was too long to walk so she made the journey from Albermarle Street to Russell Square in a hackney.

Mr. Lockheart lived in one of the newish houses built on the grounds of the Duke of Bedford’s old London house. The residences were quite elegant and Russell Square had been landscaped by Humphry Repton, a man many considered the successor to Capability Brown. Serena had visited Repton, a few years back, when she had commenced her interest in landscape gardening. He had been generous and had shown her several of his famous “red books,” the extensive illustrated plans he made for most commissions.

A housekeeper greeted Serena and took her rather rough “red book” and the proposal she had prepared.

“I will take these to Mr. Partridge, ma’am, who will wish to see you. Will you be so kind as to wait a moment in the sitting room?”

Serena declined an offer of tea and the woman left her in a second floor room with a pleasant view over the square. The furnishings bore no resemblance to those of Rushton Park, but were simple, tasteful, and almost stark. As at the country house, no pictures hung on the walls, the occasional tables held no knick-knacks on their highly polished surfaces, and the attractive mantelpiece held only one item, an unusual clock with its workings exposed.

Serena was examining it more closely and thinking how much Oliver would enjoy it—he had taken apart the schoolroom clock without permission, but had been clever enough to reassemble it—when the door opened and a tiny man entered.

He swept her a gracious, courtly bow. “What an honor to meet you, Mrs. Lombard, I am Richard Partridge.” When he stood, he came no higher than her nose, his clothing that of at least a half century past.

“I am sorry to come without notice, but Mr. Lockheart indicated he wished to proceed as soon as possible.”

Partridge chortled, taking the smaller of two chairs across from her. “Yes, he is a man who does not let the dust settle. He left strict instructions regarding the matter. I merely glanced at your proposal before coming to let you know it is acceptable.”

Serena blinked. “But. . . won’t Mr. Lockheart wish to look at it?”

“Oh no. He was most specific in his instructions. I was to accept any proposal you presented.”

Serena was stunned. The amount she had requested was scandalous—thanks mainly to Miles’s urgings. He’d advised her to come up with a shocking amount, and then double it for good measure. When Serena had demurred he had, for once, been quite serious.

“Don’t undervalue your work, Serena. He is expecting you to uproot yourself and your son and to manage the entire, huge project. Humphry Repton himself does not handle such matters. This is going to take up your life for a long time to come. In fact triple the amount—he is said to be among the five wealthiest men in the entire country.”

So Serena had, against the qualms of her conscience, tripled her original amount. And Lockheart had not even looked at it before approving it. She realized Mr. Partridge was still waiting.

She gave him a somewhat embarrassed smile. “I beg your pardon. I was just a little . . . surprised.”

“Oh, no need to apologize. I quite understand. I had the same reaction myself when I first came to work for him.” Partridge removed a folded rectangle of paper from his coat. “Mr. Lockheart instructed me to issue the first quarter in advance, I have just written out a bank draft for you.”

Serena looked down at the amount on the draft and swallowed. This was now real.

“Mr. Lockheart has also left his coach and the servants of this house at your disposal if you should need assistance with your packing or moving.”

She nodded, dazed. “Thank you, that is very kind.”

“I am also at your disposal, Mrs. Lombard. Please direct any bills or requests to me and I will see they are handled promptly.”

She stood and he made his way to the door to open it.

“Mrs. Hazelton indicated you came by hackney, ma’am. I took the liberty of having Mr. Lockehart’s town carriage brought around to take you home.”

Serena soon found herself ensconced in yet another of Lockheart’s luxurious carriages, clutching a check for more money than she had ever had in her entire life, her head in a whirl.