He slid a glance at her. “I have not yet decided. I returned from my Grand Tour late last summer and have been at loose ends since then.”
“You do nothing?” For some reason she could not imagine having no occupation.
“Not that.” He grinned. “I was taught how to run our estates and dabble in that. However, my father is not ready to allow me to take over. I am attempting to convince him I should be allowed to have full control of the estate that is reserved for the heir.”
“But he will not allow it?” She wondered why not.
His lips thinned. “Not yet.” They had passed through the gate into the Park. “What are your plans? I assume you will take part in Almack’s and other forms of entertainments.”
That was probably as close as he felt comfortable coming to asking her if she was searching for a husband. “Yes. I suppose I will.” This Season she would not be solely attending entertainment for young ladies. “This is my second Season and I refuse to be run ragged.” This might be a good time to query him about charitable work. “I also have my charitable work with abandoned children.”
He raised one imperious blond brow. “Are there not enough homes for foundlings?”
That did not sound promising. Henrietta smiled sweetly. “If there were, we would not be so busy.” For some reason Lord St. Albans seemed a bit disconcerted by her answer. Before he could recover, she was hailed by Mary Turner. “Good afternoon.” She gave a little wave. “I had no idea you would be in Town this early.”
“Nor I you. Is Mrs. Fitzwalter here as well?”
“No.” Mary frowned. “She is too close to her time. I am fortunate that I was able to come.”
“Ah, yes.” Amanda must be almost ready to give birth. She had forgotten that the Fitzwalters were expecting their first child. Actually, the child should have already made an appearance. “I hope you are doing well.”
“I am.” She smiled broadly. “We have a little boy. His name is Robert. I just came out to see who is here.” She turned her attention to Lord St. Albans. “My lord, how nice to see you as well.”
“My lady, you glow.” Henrietta wondered if he had always spoken to ladies in such a fashion—in other words a consummate flirt—or if it was something he’d learned on the Continent.
“Thank you, my lord.” Mary glanced at Henrietta. “I hope to see you again soon.” As she finished her sentence, the coachman started the carriage forward.
Why did it seem as if everyone she knew was married?
Probably because they are.
She must stop thinking about being the last of their group to wed, but it was like a bur that kept sticking in her mind.
“Fitzwalter must be a happy man,” Lord St. Albans commented.
It took her a second to understand to what he was referring. Of course, it was the child. An heir. “I imagine he is.”
“I have begun to notice how many of my friends have married and started filling their nurseries,” he said in a thoughtful tone.
“I have been thinking the same.” More and more Henrietta wanted to marry and have a family.
“I wish them all well, but it makes it hard to spend time with them.” St. Albans’s tone was rather petulant, and there was more than a hint of disgust in it.
“Really? How sad for you, my lord.” She was not so innocent that she did not have a good idea of what kind of things he and his friends had got up to. “I have not found it difficult at all to spend time with my married friends.”
He opened his mouth and shut it again, and after a moment he said, “Indeed. I should make more of an effort to broaden my activities, as you have clearly done.”
Henrietta was not quite sure what he meant by that. Unless it was liking to spend time with children, which she rarely did. Then again, the activities in which she and her friends engaged had not changed very much, whereas his friends’ activities probably had.
They were stopped by several more people as they made their way around the carriage way. One of whom was Lady Bellamny, who inclined her head. “I am happy to see you, Miss Stern.” She raised her quizzing glass and one black eye stared at Lord St. Albans. “Is that you, St. Albans?”
His hand came up, as if he was about to tug on his cravat. “Yes, my lady. As you see.”
“Well, I certainly hope Europe has improved you. But I doubt it. It rarely does.”
Trying not to laugh out loud, Henrietta pressed her lips together as he searched for a way to answer her ladyship’s question without giving offense. What had he been up to before?
“My mother arrives tomorrow,” he said, neatly sidestepping an answer that could not go well for him.
“I will be pleased to see her.” Lady Bellamny turned to Henrietta. “I received a letter informing me that the duchess is in Town.”
“Yes, my lady.” There was no one her grandmother did not know. “I hope to convince her to remain for the Season.”
“Good luck with that.” Lady Bellamny’s tone was dubious. “I have known her since we were girls. She was always restless.”
“Nevertheless, I am quite hopeful that she will.” In fact, Henrietta sent up a prayer that her grandmother would agree to remain. “Merton’s mama was to have chaperoned me this Season, but she is unable to.”
Lady Bellamny made what sounded like a grunt. “Expect to receive an invitation for my soirée.” She poked the back of her coachman’s seat with her cane, and spared another dubious look at Lord St. Albans. “I look forward to seeing you again.”
“Thank you.” A bubble of laughter tried to escape, but Henrietta refused to let it out.
“I’m glad that’s over.” Lord St. Albans sounded more than relieved. “I’ve known her all my life, and for most of it she’s scared me to death.”
“Almost every gentleman I know has that same reaction,” she mused, more to herself than to him.
“She won’t be happy until every single gentleman she knows is leg—wed.”
Henrietta glanced at him, but he was minding his pair.
Is he not interested in marriage?
She must ask Georgie what she knew of his lordship. If he was not interested in finding a wife, Henrietta was not going to waste her time with him.
His brows furrowed as he looked at Henrietta. “To which duchess was she referring?”
“My grandmother.” She gave him a bright smile. “The Dowager Duchess of Bristol.”
He made what sounded like a groan. “Would you like to go around again?”
She looked around and saw the gate coming just ahead of them. “No, thank you.”
They soon pulled up to Merton House. But before Lord St. Albans could come around to her side of the carriage, a footman, who had been stationed in front of the house, put down the steps for her. “Thank you for a lovely ride, my lord.”
He escorted her to the open door. “It was my pleasure. I would like to take you again some time.”
Henrietta pasted a polite smile on her lips. “I would enjoy that.”
The moment he was out of sight she turned to Parkin. “I need a footman.”
“Yes, miss.” He glanced over her shoulder. “Clauson will accompany you.”