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His valet chuckled. “I will wait for you to ring.”
“Thank you.”
Hodges gathered up Philip’s riding kit and boots and left. Philip sat on the bench at the end of his bed and tried not to fidget or let his mind wander too much in the direction of the black-haired, black-eyed girl who so often brought a smile to his face.
A quick knock on the door brought him back to his feet. “Enter.”
The Duke of Kennet opened the door and stepped in. Philip immediately straightened. “Sir.”
Solomon Ashton’s fair hair had darkened a bit with age, but at forty, he still stood like an oak. He looked Philip over carefully. “Turn.” Philip did, and Solomon nodded. “Hodges did well by you.”
“He is a good man.”
“So he is.” Solomon took a deep breath. “You know why we want you present tonight?”
“I think so, sir.”
“It’s time you begin to know these families better. Some are intricately tied to us through family or business holdings. Others have daughters who will debut in a few years. Some will be primed for you to call on.”
“You said you did not expect me to marry any time soon.”
Solomon waved a dismissive gesture. “Calling on a young lady after her debut is not courting, much less marriage. The Marriage Mart is about a great deal more than dances, teas, and soirees. There is a political aspect you must grasp. So you will dance with many women before we decide on a bride.”
“We?”
Solomon gave a slight frown. “Of course. Your mother and I will be instrumental in your choice.”
Philip did not feel up to a fight. He wanted to get on with the evening. “I will be pleasant and try to remember names.”
Solomon chuckled. “I do not expect you to memorize Debrett’s in one evening. Getting to know your peers is an ongoing process. That is why I want you to start now, although I am sure you already know more than you realize. And before you head back to Eton, we must talk more about the business of the estate.”
“Yes, sir.” It was not an unexpected request. Philip had accompanied his father on tenant visits and estate rounds since he had been eight, and since he had turned ten, Solomon had been instructing him about the work of duchy management through the Socratic method of questions and answers. Solomon’s own father had died when he was a mere four and ten, leaving the young duke to the mercy of the land stewards and a grieving duchess. He was not about to leave his own son so bereft.
“I heard you took the new stallion out this afternoon. He’s spirited but handles well. Do you intend to breed him?”
“Yes. It is past time we built a good stable, perhaps even give Tattersall’s some competition.”
“I believe you said something similar when you began stocking our cellar with Mr. Benjumeda’s wine.”
Solomon grinned. “So I did. So we have!” He crossed and clapped his son on the shoulder. “That’s what I mean, Philip. Building important relationships begins early, and if nurtured well, are profitable in many ways. Benjumeda’s friendship not only strengthened our own cellar, but also allowed me to open arenas for wine distribution throughout the western counties.”
Philip frowned. “You have expanded your business with him?”
“Oh, yes. With France, Prussia, and Austria currently shooting at each other, Spanish wines are in more demand.” He stepped to the door and motioned for Philip to follow him. “I have a great deal to tell you over the next few weeks.”
Philip trailed after Solomon, trying to hide his own smile. The closer his father grew to Gabriel Benjumeda, the more the chances that Solomon would see Emalyn in a favorable light. Philip now had some of his own plotting to do.
Chapter Two
23 December 1791
The Ashton Park gardens
Ten in the evening
Emalyn huddled intoher fur-lined cloak, tugging at the hood. She hugged the shadow-laced edge of the veranda steps, hoping that anyone who saw her would think she was nothing more than another one of the potted rosemary trees.
A tree with feet that stomped occasionally, trying to tamp snow off her new leather boots.
