Martin scrutinized his expression.
Unperturbed, Devlin smiled. “Your sister couldn’t have shown you around the clubs, and while Gregory might, he’s not focused on the business world, and he’s also not as well-connected, socially or business-wise, as I am.” Then Devlin caught Martin’s gaze and, still smiling, quietly said, “You might remember that, in all this, my principal motivation is to see Therese happy.”
The implication that he would be very unhappy were Therese to cease to be content rang clearly in the simple words.
Martin read the warning in Devlin’s eyes and dipped his head. “I’ll bear that in mind.” He looked away. After a second, he added, “Thank you for telling me.”
Smoothly, Devlin inclined his head and, in lighter vein, asked what Martin’s plans were for the rest of the day.
He learned that the younger man intended to return to the house in Arlington Street where he was currently staying before following up one of the business contacts he’d made at the exhibition.
“After that, I’m going to meet Henry, Jason, and some of their friends for dinner.” Martin threw Devlin a mischievous smile that reminded him forcibly of Therese. “I suspect they’ll want to introduce me to some of those other clubs you mentioned.”
Devlin grunted. “Very likely.” Somewhat to his own surprise, he felt confident Martin had more than enough sense to keep himself out of trouble. “Just remember what I said.”
Martin chuckled. “I will.”
With that, they parted, and Devlin headed west along the north side of Grosvenor Square, leaving Martin walking on toward Piccadilly and Arlington Street beyond.
Five minutes later, Devlin let himself into the front hall of Alverton House. Portland came forward to relieve him of his hat, cane, and greatcoat. After consigning all three items into his butler’s care, Devlin inquired, “I take it the mail has arrived?”
“Indeed, my lord, some hours ago. Her ladyship collected all that were hers, and subsequently, I placed the remaining missives on your desk.”
“Thank you.” Devlin proceeded to the study. He shut the door, then crossed to the desk, sat behind it, picked up his letter knife, and settled to open the small mountain of missives stacked on his blotter.
He was sunk in analyzing the information sent by his various stewards regarding the harvests thus far when Portland tapped and, at Devlin’s mumbled “Come,” entered.
Devlin glanced up to see a thick envelope in the butler’s hand.
“A couriered delivery, my lord.”
“Excellent!” Devlin pushed aside his stewards’ letters and held out a hand. It appeared one of his contacts had managed the impossible.
He took the packet, wielded the letter knife, and shattered the seal. He spread the packet’s contents on his blotter, revealing a letter and an ornate voucher. The sight of the latter made him smile.
“Will there be anything else, my lord?”
Devlin glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece, then looked at Portland. “Has her ladyship taken the barouche?” Although overcast, the day had remained dry.
“Indeed, my lord. I overheard the countess give Munns orders to drive to the park.”
It was past three-thirty. “Very good.” Devlin restacked the stewards’ letters and glanced briefly at the others that had arrived; none required his urgent attention, and he set the lot aside. Then he opened the top drawer to his right and put the letter and the voucher inside, shut the drawer, and rose.
Still smiling, he met Portland’s eyes. “I believe, Portland, that I’ll take a walk.”
As he’d hoped, Devlin found Therese in her carriage, drawn into the verge along the avenue. Lady Finlay and her unmarried daughter were seated in the open carriage with Therese, and a group of three ladies and two gentlemen had paused on the lawn beside the barouche, and the five were chatting animatedly with the three occupants.
Therese was the first to see him approaching, and for a second, she stared. Then she was forced to return her attention to the conversation before her, but Devlin was aware that, from the corner of her eye, she kept him in sight as he strolled nearer.
He did nothing to conceal his intention of joining her; he had an excellent excuse for wishing to speak with her. That said, he saw no reason to cut short her entertainment; he was well aware that she found guiding younger ladies through the shoals of the Marriage Mart diverting.
So when he paused by the carriage and, still faintly surprised, she tipped her head his way and said, “My lord,” he nodded back in relaxed fashion and, smiling benevolently on the small gathering, asked her to introduce him.
Once the introductions were complete, he smoothly apologized for interrupting the conversation and, with a languid wave, said, “Don’t mind me. Do carry on.”
After a fractional hesitation, the group obliged, somewhat warily at first, but when he gave no sign of doing anything other than listening, their animation returned, and they continued their discussion of their social calendars and the events they expected to be the highlights of the coming weeks.
With very little interest in that subject, Devlin seized the moment to indulge himself by watching Therese in her element. There was something about the way she so commandingly managed the conversational reins that he found quite…entrancing.
Arousing, truth be told; watching her was akin to studying a master of social manipulation wielding their magic.
But the shadows were lengthening, and a brisk breeze sprang up, making several ladies shiver. One of the gentlemen consulted his timepiece and declared it was nearly four o’clock, and in a rush, the group walking made their farewells and departed.
Lady Finlay briefly eyed Devlin, then turned to Therese. “Dulcimea and I had better be on our way as well, dear Lady Alverton. Thank you so much for your wise counsel—Dulcimea will be sure to bear your words in mind.”
Devlin waved Dennis, his young footman, back and opened and held the carriage door. He offered his hand and assisted Lady Finlay and her daughter to descend.
“Thank you, my lord.” Lady Finlay waited for Dulcimea to curtsy, then wound her arm in her daughter’s. Then her ladyship looked at Devlin and faintly smiled. “And for being so patient.” She cut a glance at Therese and inclined her head graciously. “We’ll leave you to your delightful wife’s company.”
With that, the pair turned and set off across the lawn.
Devlin watched until they were out of earshot, then climbed the steps and joined Therese in the carriage.
She studied him as he settled elegantly on the seat beside her and Dennis shut the carriage door.
Without looking around, Munns asked, “My lord?”
“Home, Munns.” Devlin looked at Therese and more quietly verified, “I take it that was your intention?”
She was still regarding him with something close to fascination. “It was.” She waited until the carriage rocked into motion, then drew breath and said, “If I might ask, to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”
He smiled; he’d been waiting for her to inquire. “First, it occurred to me that this relatively fine weather is unlikely to last much longer, and then early next month, we’ll up stakes and head to the Priory. I wondered if we shouldn’t seize the moment to indulge the children and take them to the zoo. They haven’t been since April, and you know how they love to see their favorite animals.”