The servant was tall, as were almost all their footmen, with blond hair and blue-gray eyes. He bowed. “It would be my honor, Miss Henrietta.”
She had yet to be assigned a footman for the Season. The one she’d had last year had married one of Charlotte’s maids and had gone to her household. “Thank you. It is not far.”
“Yes, miss.”
He held the door for her and followed after she stepped out. It was not long before she was shown into her friend’s private parlor.
“Henrietta.” Dorie bussed her cheek. “I did not expect you today. Did you not visit your grandmother?”
“I did. We had luncheon together, then visited Lady Thornhill’s salon.” As Henrietta spoke, she removed her bonnet. “You will never guess who was there.”
“I have not a clue.” Dorie poured a cup of tea and handed it to Henrietta. “It is fresh. Who was there? Not a famous artist?”
“No, Lady Fotherby and Lord Fotherby. Grandmamma knew they would be there. It seems that she has been in close contact with Lady Fotherby and is now convinced that Lord Fotherby has redeemed himself.”
Dorie clapped her hands together. “That is wonderful news!”
“It would be if my sister agreed. She is still harboring a grudge.” And rightly so. After all, Dotty had no idea what Fotherby was like now.
“But you knew she was.” Dorie patted the seat next to her on a pink-and-cream-striped sofa. “I must say, he cuts a fine figure, and Exeter likes him a great deal.”
“Still, I might be better off looking at either St. Albans or Bolingbroke. It would be easier.”
Dorie sipped her tea, then set it down. “Sometimes what appears easier is not always.”
“I have watched you, Adeline, and Georgie.” Henrietta sighed. “I do not suppose I will have a better time of it.” If only she knew what to do or which gentleman she liked the most. So far, it was Lord Fotherby, but she had only just met the other two. “I do not have to make a decision soon.”
“No, you do not. Take your time.” She heard someone walk into the room, and Dorie smiled. “After all, marriage is for life, and you want to wed a gentleman with whom you will be happy.”
“I concur with my wife,” Exeter said, grinning as he strolled into the room straight to Dorie.
She smiled at him, before turning back to Henrietta. “How was your carriage ride with Lord St. Albans?”
“It was nice. He was nice.” Henrietta might as well tell her friend the other impression she got. “I am not sure he is interested in changing his single status.”
“I wouldn’t let that concern you,” Exeter said. “Not every gentleman who comes to Town intending not to wed leaves single.”
“I suppose you are right.” She could think of at least two gentlemen who had sworn they were not going to marry and did. She glanced from Dorie to Exeter. “I have something I must ask you.” She was certain she knew what the answer would be, but it seemed a strange thing to ask her friend. “The Dowager Lady Merton has injured herself and cannot come to Town. I will write to my grandmother, asking if she is willing to chaperone me, but I cannot depend on her for every entertainment. In fact, I imagine she will agree to attend only the most important ones. Would you be willing to act as my chaperone?”
“Of course I would.” Dorie grinned. “I would be delighted. I would wager that Georgie will help as well.”
Henrietta knew Georgie would be willing, but she was getting bigger every day. “Thank you. I must write to my grandmother. I can see myself out.”
“Henrietta,” Dorie said.
“Yes?”
“I assume your sister will wish to approve the events to which you have been invited. Please send me the details.”
How could she have forgotten that would be needed? “I will. Oh, I saw Lady Bellamny in the Park today. She said she would be sending an invitation to her soirée. I will see you soon.”
Clauson appeared as Henrietta reached the hall. “Let us go home.”
On the short walk back to Merton House she decided not to decide about the gentlemen. Dorie was a case in point that one should follow one’s instincts and not try to plan which gentleman one wanted. As for chaperoning, Henrietta should probably decide which entertainments would interest her grandmother. Dorie could chaperone her to anything else.
Henrietta went to her desk and pulled out a piece of pressed paper, dipped her sharpened pen into the standish, and began to write.
Dearest Grandmother,
Poor Lady Merton has broken her leg and cannot act as my chaperone. Would you be willing to accompany me to some of my entertainments?
Your loving granddaughter,
Henrietta
She wondered if she should be more voluble, but her grandmother generally liked directness. This would have to do. She sanded the letter, sealed it, and took it to be delivered by a footman to the Pulteney.
As she was getting ready to dress for dinner, a knock came on the door. Spyer answered it. “Her grace sent a verbal message. She said that she will accompany you to those of your entertainments you choose. You are to keep her informed.”
“Thank God for that.” When she went down to dinner she could tell her sister all was arranged. She had to ensure that the events Grandmamma attended with her were ones where she would not become bored. That meant some of her friends would be present as well. Almack’s was one choice, as was Lady Bellamny’s soirée. Neither of them would be for another few weeks. Henrietta would have to wait to receive invitations before she could make any other decisions.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The next morning Nate rose early, as was his habit, and donned the suit of clothing his valet had laid out for him. With Padraig at his side, he strode down the stairs and out the door, where a groom stood with Darragh. “Good morning.”
“A fine day for a ride, my lord,” the groom answered.
Nate’s timing couldn’t have been better. As he passed the far entrance into Grosvenor Square, Lady Exeter and Miss Stern, riding on either side of a phaeton driven by Lady Turley had turned onto Upper Grosvenor Street. When he came alongside of them, he tipped his hat. “Good morning, ladies.”
“Good morning,” they all answered at once, but the only voice he heard was Miss Stern’s. To his ears, her tone was lower and more musical than the others. “May I accompany you?”
“Of course.” She smiled at him, and his heart skipped a beat. The other ladies moved ahead, and she fell back and rode beside him. “I admire how your dog paces alongside you.”
“Yes”—he glanced at the wolfhound—“this is one of his favorite things to do, and he knows he must be very well behaved around Darragh.” As if he knew he was being talked about, Padraig looked up and lolled out his tongue.
Her head tilted slightly to one side, and Nate knew he had her attention. “You have Irish names for both horse and dog?”
“They’re both from Ireland. I went there looking for a horse. Darragh is a Trakehner Chestnut. I found him and a litter of puppies. They were probably the last or one of the Irish Wolfhounds left.”
She glanced at the horse and again at the dog, as if trying to decide which one to talk about first. “Is that not a horse breed originally from Prussia?”