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Chapter Seven
Thomas got up and paced. Again.
He had been in his study for hours now. Truly, it was an impressive new record, as usually he struggled to stay focused in one place for so long. He would have loved to have left the room altogether and gone for a ride or a walk. In particular, he would have loved to take to the streets in India, and perhaps sample some food, or converse with the locals. Everything in the Far East felt worth learning, and from Thomas’ perspective, it was much easier to learn from experience as opposed to books.
Unfortunately, there was no leaving the desk today, much as he would have loved to. The move back to London from the country had put him behind with his Far East correspondences, and as the beautiful woman he’d encountered at the fireworks show had said, there was an issue with the dye required for that one particular shade of blue textiles. Inside sources suggested that royal blue was to be in high fashion come winter proper—it would not do to let the issue sit, allowing the Russell family’s competition to edge them out of the market.
It wasn’t the textile issue, however, that had Thomas distracted, or even his typical struggles with staying focused.
It was that beautiful, mysterious lady.
“I don’t know what else you expect to do,” Gerard had said at the tail end of the fireworks show, after they had finished scouring what felt like the entire garden for Thomas’ fateful counterpart. “Are you certain you didn’t just imagine her?”
Thomas scanned the dwindling crowds. Most families had already retreated back across the river, and the orchestra was packing up. He sighed, resigned. “I apologize if I’ve distracted you from business, Gerard. I know there were a number of London contacts you wished for me to meet.”
“There will be time for that yet,” Gerard said. At Thomas’ continued dejection, he gave him a light nudge. “There will be time yet to find your mystery woman as well. It is only the start of the Season, after all.”
That fact alone had managed to bolster Thomas’ spirits. The captivating mystery woman herself had spoken of her own reservations toward the Season, which undoubtedly meant she would also be attending a number of the parties to come. Unfortunately, it was not just the question of how to find her again that occupied Thomas’ mind.
The memory of what little time they had spent together simply refused to release him. Her smile burned in his mind’s eye, and the way she’d gasped when he caught her in his arms echoed. He could still feel the phantom tickle of her breath against his skin—
Ultimately, all of this left Thomas confined to his study, far too caught up in the memory of the mystery woman to accomplish the work he was meant to as the Duke of Elvington.
A knock came on the door, pulling Thomas from his thoughts. Mother poked her head in. “Thomas. You’ve missed the afternoon meal.”
His shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry, Mother. I don’t mean to sequester myself like this.”
“Is your work coming along well?”
He almost voiced his complaints out loud. That the man he’d left in charge of things in India apparently wasn’t as ready to fill Thomas’ shoes as he’d thought. That Gerard, despite his insistence on Thomas learning the London side of the business again, kept disappearing whenever Thomas was actually ready to hit the books. That he feared if Father were alive, he would take one look at the job Thomas was doing and shake his head in quiet disappointment.
Instead, he decided to stick to an angle of conversation he knew would please Mother. “I am managing, when it comes to work, though I will admit I have been a bit distracted today. I met someone, you see. At Vauxhall Gardens.”
Mother’s eyebrows went up. “If you are going to follow that up by saying Gerard introduced you to yet another business contact—”
“I met a lady.”
“A lady,” her mouth pinched, “what of Lady Leticia?”
Perhaps Thomas shouldn’t have said anything. He turned his back to Mother and crossed back around so that the desk was between them. “I think well of Lady Leticia. She is a kind girl. Though…I will admit, I am not certain we are the greatest match for one another when it comes to the prospect of marriage.”
Mother looked as though she wanted to protest. Instead, she took a seat across from the desk and primly folded her slightly wrinkled hands in her lap. “And who, may I ask, is this other ‘lady’ who has captured your attention?”
It occurred to Thomas too late that it perhaps would not be the best course of action to admit to Mother that he had failed to learn the lady’s name. Without proof of prospects and a suitable family match, Mother would likely begin pressuring him even more toward Lady Leticia.
You truly do need to learn to look a step or two ahead before you open your mouth, Thomas scolded himself.
“I will not give up on Lady Leticia just yet,” Thomas said, sinking down on himself slightly.
Mother sighed. To Thomas’ surprise, she did not sound contented with his acquiescence. “Thomas, you are a good man, with a good heart. If there is another you wish to pursue, I trust you will exercise good judgement. Just…do not close any doors on yourself in the process.”
Thomas nodded without meeting her eyes. A crystal full of brandy sat on the edge of the desk. It was only afternoon, but Thomas was tempted to indulge. Everything felt so complicated at the moment.
Mother got to her feet. “Whatever angles you choose to pursue, please do prepare yourself to move quickly. If you will recall, tonight is the Almack's Assembly Room ball, and I will not have my eldest attending underprepared.”
Thomas’ frustration eased in a single instant. His focus had been so scattered, he’d completely forgotten about the ball.
Almack's was one of the most exclusive venues in London—only the highest regarded members of thetonwould be in attendance.
