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With that in mind, he made his way to the front door, taking no notice of the carriages and their drivers along his drive. He entered quietly, neatened his hair a touch, and made his way to the front parlor.
There were some half-dozen men of the ton, all of lesser rank than his own, all in riding or visiting clothes, and only just moving to partake of the refreshments the footmen were laying out, a light wine and some biscuits and finger sandwiches, of the sort that might be too insubstantial, save that they had arrived at his home without prior notice, and thus had no cause to complain about the provisions. “Good day, gentlemen. I confess, I was not expecting to have guests this afternoon. I hope I did not miss your cards?” He knew quite well he had not, but there was a dance of manners to be followed, here.
“No, indeed, and we do hope you will forgive us the intrusion.” The most senior of the men, one Earl of Kensington, Bartholomew Brown by name, stepped forward and swept him a polite bow. “We were at the club, discussing the rumors of your appearance at yesterday evening’s festivities at His Grace the Duke of Merriweather’s masquerade, and it happened that there was some question as to why you were not present for the unmasking, and if indeed you had been present at all.”
“I did attend for a fleeting time. It was most unfortunate, however, that I could not remain for the entirety of the evening, for I had matters to attend to here, and I could not leave them for another time.” He kept his expression neutral, with none of the irritation he felt in his face or his voice. They had been rude to intrude upon his home without first sending a message, but his standing was fragile enough that it would do no good for him to take offense. “Indeed, I have only just come from attending to some work outside, as you can see, and I am in no state for company. If you should like to remain, my servants will be happy to see to your comfort while I make myself presentable.”
“That would be very agreeable, though as it happens, it is about your work that we wish to speak. It has been rumored for some time that you are a sculptor of some skill.”
“Some skill, perhaps. Though it would be immodest of me to speak more on the matter. However, I am more than willing to have you judge for yourselves, if you should like to accompany me to my studio after I have freshened up.” A part of him rebelled at the idea of letting these men into his workspace, his sanctuary. But it could not be helped.
“That sounds like just the thing. I am sure we shall all be delighted to wait upon your convenience.” There were murmurs of agreement around the room.
“Then I bid you make yourselves comfortable, and I shall return momentarily. Should you find yourselves restless, you may ask my butler, Danvers, to show you to my workspace, and I shall join you there.” He dipped his head in the shallow acknowledgment that was all he was required to give to men of lesser rank and turned away.
Danvers met him at the door. “I have had suitable attire laid out and fresh water poured for you, my lord. Should the guests ask, shall I let them into your studio?”
He had originally said that, but he had reconsidered in the intervening time. “No. Take them to the doors, if they wish, but do not let them in. I shall handle that matter personally.”
“As you like, my lord.” With a quick bow, Danvers returned to his duties, and Daniel made his way to his rooms with haste, wishing with every step that the intrusion was over and done with.
Several minutes later, he had changed his clothes, cleaned his face and hands and others, and attired himself in the clean attire Danvers had laid out, suitable for hosting an informal gathering. His hair was once more in proper order and combed into an appropriate style, though he made a note that he would soon need to either have his hair trimmed or invest in a selection of ties. Satisfied that his appearance would in no way raise any sort of objection or comment, he exited his rooms and made his way downstairs.
Danvers met him just beyond the base of the staircase, indicating that his guests had left the parlor. Daniel nodded and turned his steps toward the studio, arriving to find a small knot of gentlemen clustered around the door and talking in hushed tones. “Gentlemen, I hope I have not kept you waiting long.”
“Not at all, not at all. We’ve only just had your butler guide us here. But I say, do you mean to say you work in a lady’s solar?”
“Say rather that I have had it remade to better serve as a workplace. There is another gathering room for ladies should it be needed. And in any case, I have not much need of separate spaces for a woman’s occupation at present, and this space was particularly suited to my needs.”
He stepped through the crowd and unlocked the door. It was only as he stepped through, the assembled members of the ton close on his heels, that he realized he had made one misstep. He had not taken the time beforehand to throw the protective cloth over his current work, to guard it from interference and unwanted eyes.
“Pardon me, this particular work…” He moved to throw the drape over the statue, but his movement was arrested by a chuckle from Lord Kensington.
“By Jove, is that…?” The elder lord leaned closer to the statue. “Look at this, lads! It’s Henrietta Stanton, and near as beautiful as life, is it not?”
Another, younger man moved forward. “Why, so it is! And a splendid likeness of her, I must say. I would never have recognized her though, not in that getup.”
“It is a bit immodest.” Another man piped up.
“A bit immodest. Say it as it is, chap. Lord Crawford would have a right fit if he saw his daughter in that state, and I daresay there would be an honor challenge or a marriage proposal one in the offing before a seven-night had passed.”
Daniel stood still, listening to the jocular comments, his mind only able to catch hold of one coherent thought.
Who in blazes is Henrietta Stanton?
Finally, one of the younger men turned to him. “Lord Salisbury, I’d no idea you were so familiar with the Stanton family. You’ll excuse the inquiry, but...I was rather of the impression…”
“If you are saying I have a reputation for reclusive behavior, then say it plainly. It is something I have long been aware of. As to Lady Henrietta…” He moved forward, looking at the face that was so familiar, and yet seemed so unfamiliar now as well. “You’ll pardon my confusion, but the young lady who served as inspiration for this image is not known to me by that name.”
“Well, she wouldn’t be if she was going to dress like that, I suppose.” One of the younger men, whom Daniel finally remembered as Baron Eldon, surveyed the statue with thinly veiled amusement. “I rather think I know what this is about. I’ll wager a purse full of shillings that this has something to do with that wager she’s in with the Darnell lass.”
“You know, I shouldn’t be surprised if you were correct. It’s not the usual tactic one might have expected, but then Henrietta does enjoy being unpredictable.”
An amused snort from another fellow. “It’s not the usual tactic at all. But we all know how attached Henrietta is to her role. Does it really surprise anyone that she’d risk compromising her reputation as a maiden—especially after the events of a few Seasons ago—to maintain her present position among our kind?”
“I say, that’s a bit much. Though I can’t deny there’s some truth to it as well.” Baron Eldon looked a bit discomfited.
Daniel finally shook off his shock and seized advantage of the lull in conversation. “If you gentlemen will indulge me for a moment...pray remember that I have not been in London for some time. And I confess, I find myself quite at a loss as to what you are speaking of.”
