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With his father’s London house only a street or two away from the woman's residence, he could not help going there immediately by carriage. Though determined, he did imagine knocking on the carriage roof several times to reinstruct the driver to take him to his father’s residence instead. The butler there had likely been expecting him for some time now, and it was within reason that the entire household staff would be on tenterhooks awaiting him.
Immediately upon exiting the carriage, William again sensed that he was doing something he shouldn’t. But his feet would not stop from carrying him up the porch steps to grip the brass knocker in the shape of a lion’s head upon the door.
With gritted teeth and holding his breath, he awaited the response from inside the house. He could have sworn he saw a curtain twitching in an upstairs window, but he did not have a chance to second-guess it before the door was pulled open.
The butler was an older man, perhaps in his fifties, with a strict yet somehow friendly face and a streak of silver through his thinning black hair.
“My Lord?” the butler said enquiringly as he bowed his head respectfully in greeting. “May I help you?”
“I am rather hoping so,” William responded. “Am I right in believing that this is the Besser residence?”
As he spoke, he glanced down the quiet moonlight street, half wondering whether maybe he had read the number wrong and knocked upon the wrong house. If so, it perhaps was a sign that he should wait until morning.
But when he looked back to the butler, the man smiled and nodded. “Yes, My Lord. It is indeed. May I ask as to who is enquiring?”
“My name is Mr William Talbot,” he explained. Although he knew he ought to have introduced himself as Lord, he still hadn’t got used to the fact, feeling quite uncomfortable with the thought that he had taken the place that had always belonged to his brother.
“Ahh, of course, Lord Talbot, I ought to have guessed from the hint of an accent that you possess,” the butler exclaimed, offering a lower bow than before. “Please forgive me for not realising sooner, My Lord.”
“You were not to know,” William assured him with a smile. There was something reassuring about the butler that made him slightly less nervous, and he added, “I am aware the hour is late, but I have just arrived in London this past hour, and I was hoping I might be able to get an audience with the family.”
The butler’s face fell slightly at that, and William’s throat constricted. Had he said something inappropriate? Of course, he had. He should never have even come. He should have stayed away until morning when there was a more appropriate and sun-blessed time to announce himself at the door of his betrothed.
“Forgive me, My Lord. I can invite you in to await the family, but I am afraid they are not in attendance at present,” the butler explained, looking quite upset that he could not offer anything more than that. “Though I am sure you are rather tired after travelling all this way from France. Can I assume you have acquired a place to stay? I would be happy to make some arrangements if necessary.”
“That is very kind of you,” William said, tipping his hat. “Though not necessary at all, and I would not wish to trouble you. Perhaps you could, however, let the family know that I stopped by and that I shall endeavour to do so again on the morrow?”
“I will happily give such a message, My Lord,” the butler assured him pleasantly. “Are you certain there is nothing I can offer? Perhaps even a little refreshment before your journey onward?”
William instinctively started to shake his head. The last thing he wanted was for the family to return home unexpectedly right as he had finished refreshments and was preparing to leave. “No but thank you. I ought to have just waited until tomorrow as I am quite exhausted from my journey.”
“Then I wish you well and safely to your bed, My Lord,” the butler said, offering a slight and respectable smile while keeping the professional and firm manner of a butler who had spent many years in the service of nobility.
William tipped his hat once more and started to turn away from the door. He was halfway down the steps when the sound of a carriage coming down the street caused him to pause. Heart hammering, he watched in anticipation as he waited to see whether the vehicle would pull over behind his own or whether it would ride on past.
The slowing of the horses gave him pause for concern, and he couldn’t help wondering,have they returned after all?
But it seemed that the horses had merely slowed at the driver's request due to the road's obstacles and the fact that the going had become difficult. Seeing that his own carriage was part of the problem, William gave the butler another quick farewell before hurrying down to it. Reeling off the address of his father’s London townhouse to the driver, he slipped back into the carriage and dropped onto the bench, breathing a deep sigh of relief.
That relief did not last nearly as long as he would have hoped as he quickly remembered that the fact he had failed in meeting the Besser family only meant that he would have to try again tomorrow. Not for the first time, he wondered what Miss Cynthia Besser could look like.
Though he had heard rumours that she was quite pretty, red-haired, and a proper English gentlewoman, he couldn’t help thinking that people often exaggerated to make others feel better, especially when something was left to be desired.What am I truly getting myself into?he thought grimly.I should never have come to London in the first place.
