The Story of a Baron (The Sisters of the Aristocracy) (25 page)

Chapter 50

Happy Birthday

Jeffrey Althorpe regarded his image in the looking glass in his bedchamber.
Happy birthday,
he thought, his mood a bit somber and perhaps even morose. The past years hadn’t been kind to his visage. There were tiny lines on either side of his eyes and mouth, his nose appeared to have extended at least an eighth of an inch, and there were what could only be described as worry lines across his forehead.

When did this happen?
he wondered. The late nights at White’s had probably taken their toll to some degree, and he found the days spent in Parliament didn’t help when issues important to him weighed heavily long after their fate had been decided.

Indeed, the only light in his life had been Lady Evangeline. Had it just been eight days since the two had argued over who would take possession of
The Story of a Baron?

Eight days.

And now that they had finished reading it, he no longer had an excuse to see her everyday.

God, how he missed her!

Harry Tennison had been rather effective at avoiding him. Until he secured permission from the earl, he dared not court her, nor could he formerly propose to the lady.

To the love of his life.

He let out a heavy sigh, turning when the bedchamber door opened to admit his valet. “Ah, Timmons,” he murmured. He watched as the young man hurried about, retrieving breeches, a waistcoat and a topcoat from the clothes press to present to him for his approval. “Fine,” he nodded at the valet’s choices. “I’m thinking I’ll ride later, perhaps during the fashionable hour,” he added. He was suddenly feeling restless.

A knock at the door preceded his butler’s unexpected appearance. “A note just arrived for you, my lord,” the older man intoned, his voice several octaves deeper than one would expect from such a small man.

Jeffrey nodded as he took the note from the silver salver, turning it over to see the Earl of Torrington’s seal in the red wax.
What the hell?
“Thank you,” he murmured, breaking the seal and opening the white parchment. The handwriting was obviously masculine, and knowing the earl as he did, he figured the man had penned it himself rather than have his secretary write it.

I am paying you a call at precisely eleven o’clock this morning. Be dressed and ready. Grandby.

“Christ,” Jeffrey whispered.
What the hell?
Grandby never called on him! In fact, Jeffrey was rather surprised the earl even knew who he was, although he had been invited to the man’s house that one time for dinner. “What time is it?” he asked, not addressing his question to either the butler or his valet.

Timmons dared a glance at the mantle clock above the fireplace. “Ten-forty, my lord,” he answered.

“No bath today. But I need a shave,” Sommers ordered, moving to take a seat before the mirror in his bathing chamber. “And make it quick. I must be in my study at ten-fifty-five,” he added, his stomach churning.
The one morning I don’t get up early and this happens.
Indeed, had he arranged to read another book with Evangeline, he would already be on his way to meet her, which made him wonder what Grandby would have done when he found him already gone from Sommers Place.

True to his short missive, Milton Grandby, Earl of Torrington, appeared on the doorstep of Sommers Place at exactly eleven o’clock. He was led directly to Jeffrey’s study, where he found the baron at his desk, looking as if he’d been there for several hours reviewing the books for his estate.

Grandby knew better, though.

“Sommers,” he said by way of a greeting, acknowledging the baron’s short bow with one of his own. “I see thirty minutes was enough to get you ready this morning.”

The baron regarded Grandby with a frown. “It usually is,” he replied with a shrug. There was no reason to admit he had been abed until ten-thirty, although it was a bit later than he usually slept.
Another effect of aging
, he thought.
And there was no appointment to read a book with Evangeline Tennison.
“Would you like coffee? Or tea, perhaps?” he asked, remembering his mother’s lessons in hospitality.

Grandby seemed surprised by the offer. “Coffee, please,” he answered with a slow grin, settling into the chair across from the desk.

Jeffrey made a motion with his hand, apparently to a servant who had followed the earl into the study. “And to what do I owe the honor of a visit from you? Did you come to wish me happy?”

The earl cocked a dark eyebrow. “Did you already ask for her hand?” Grandby wondered, his grin turning to a frown.

The question stunned Jeffrey.
Ask for her hand?

Christ!

Grandby wasn’t here about his birthday. “No,” he replied carefully, wondering for whose hand he was expected to have asked. He and Evangeline hadn’t exactly hid their reading behind parlor doors, but other than Grosvenor Square, they also hadn’t frequented places where they would be easily seen by those of the
ton
. “It’s my birthday,” he said after a pause.

Grandby took a quick look at the ceiling before returning his attention to the baron. “And how many years have you been on this damned planet?” he wondered, the question tinged with anger. From the looks of the young man who sat before him, he would guess Jeffrey Althorpe was in his early-to-mid thirties. If the man ever left White’s at an earlier hour of the morning, he might actually look younger than he was.

“Thirty,” Jeffrey replied hesitantly, wondering to what Grandby was leading.
And whose hand did Grandby think he was supposed to have asked for?

Grandby gave a noncommittal grunt. “It’s time you were married,” he stated firmly.

“I agree,” Sommers replied with a firm nod.

“Time you gave up your bachelor ways, and your late nights, and your whoring and ...” He paused a moment, one bushy eyebrow cocked up. “Wait. What did you say?”

Jeffrey sighed. He supposed he should have taken offense at the earl for making his state of matrimony his business, but he found he couldn’t. He’d had the idea of marriage on his mind since late December. Since the weekend after Christmas, when the massive snowstorm had buried most of England in the cold, white stuff. While most men of the
ton
were ensconced in their bedchambers with their wives, seeing to the creation of the next generation of the peerage, Jeffrey had been holed up at his country estate with several friends – all bachelors – and a deck of cards.

It was the worst holiday of his life.

“I agree,” he repeated. “And, as for the whoring, I haven’t indulged in quite some time. I’ve an aversion to venereal disease,” he added with an arched eyebrow.
And a lack of funds to pay for a mistress.
But he didn’t put voice to his thoughts, thinking his financial state was really none of the earl’s business.

Grandby regarded the baron for a long moment. “Do you have someone in mind for your baroness?” he asked then, the one already cocked eyebrow lifting nearly into his hairline.

Jeffrey took a deep breath and finally nodded. “I do.”

When he didn’t offer a name, Grandby’s other eyebrow joined the first in elevation. “Does the future Lady Sommers have a
name?
” he finally asked, his eyebrows finally settling into their normal location.

What business was it of Grandby’s?

Jeffrey was tempted to put voice to his annoyance, but he suddenly realized the earl could be of some help. “Lady Evangeline,” Jeffrey offered, his voice barely audible. “If she’ll have me,” he added, dipping his head before meeting Grandby’s stunned gaze. She had said she would. Promised him she would. But they both knew it wouldn’t matter if her brother didn’t agree to the betrothal.

“
Have
you?” Grandby repeated. “Of course, she’ll have you. I’ll tell her to
have
you. She’s three-and-twenty and not getting any younger,” he claimed, one hand waving as if to reinforce his point.

The door opened and a maid appeared with the coffee service. She set the tray on the corner of the desk before pouring two cups for the gentlemen.

Glad for the interruption, Jeffrey swallowed and considered Grandby’s words. He wondered how it was the earl had taken such an interest in Lord Everly’s sister. Lord knew, Lord Everly certainly didn’t. The two times Jeffrey had tried to bring up the topic of courting Lady Evangeline had left him frustrated and impatient with the explorer. The man might be a genius when it came to some scientific topics, but he was a dunce when it came to the matter of marriage for his sister.

The maid curtsied and left the study. Grandby continued to regard Jeffrey with an expression that required some kind of response.

“I kissed her,” Jeffrey stated suddenly, straightening in his chair as he made the claim. He thought it better not to mention how many times. Or that she had initiated a few herself.

One of Grandby’s bushy eyebrows arced up. “Proud of yourself for that?” he asked rhetorically, and then wondered why the baron would admit to having kissed Evangeline Tennison if not to reinforce some kind of claim on the chit.

Jeffrey shrugged. “Not proud, exactly,” he replied. After a pause, he said, “It was necessary. I ... I was about to take my leave of her, and I knew it might be some time before I could see her again, and ... I did not wish to part as mere ... friends.”

Grandby regarded Lord Sommers for a few moments. “Did she ...
welcome
your advance?” he asked, thinking Lady Evangeline might have put up a fight if she didn’t.
And if she didn’t, the fish in that damned glass aquarium would.

Annoyed that the earl thought he was capable of bestowing an unwelcome kiss on anyone, Jeffrey was about to tell  him that it was none of his damned business. But he remembered it was Evangeline who had made it quite clear she wanted to kiss him.

Would you think me wanton if I kissed you?

Christ! It had taken every bit of his restraint as a gentleman to reply with a simple “no” when his entire body wanted all of her pressed against it. He wasn’t even sure if he’d managed to get the single word out.

And so he had kissed her. A simple, sweet kiss that left him wanting far more. Her, too, apparently, since she had recaptured his lips just as he was ending the kiss.

“I shall send a note and ask if she’ll join me on a drive in the park this afternoon,” Jeffrey suggested, hoping that would be enough to get Grandby out of his study and on his way.

“Agreed,” Grandby stated before taking a drink of his coffee. “Given her age, I think you can forgo a chaperone, but if she insists, suggest she bring a maid,” he stated quickly. “They’re more willing to go if they don’t have to walk. By the end of the drive in the park, ask if you can court her, and then, when you get back to Everly’s house, ask for her hand.”

Jeffrey blinked once. He blinked again. “All in ... all in one
day
?”

Grandby’s eyes widened. “Yes, in one day! Today!” he responded, his patience at an end. “Get a special license and marry her next week. You’re thirty, for God’s sake. It’s time you were leg-shackled,” the earl nearly shouted. “With luck, she’ll be with child by the end of the month, and you’ll have an heir at Christmas.”

His eyebrows suddenly arched in surprise, Jeffrey Althorpe stared at Grandby for several moments. “You’re quite serious,” he finally responded, stunned at the earl’s proposal. “Will you ... will you be explaining all this to Lord Everly?” he asked carefully, thinking he hadn’t had any luck securing a moment alone with the odd earl. “Despite my requests for an audience with Lord Everly, the man hasn’t made time to meet with me.”

Grandby regarded the baron for a moment, somewhat surprised to learn that Sommers really had been considering Lady Evangeline for his baroness. “Leave it to me,” the earl replied with a nod. “Never let it be said I don’t see to my goddaughters’ welfare,” he added, rising from his chair. “Or to my own. Lady Torrington is expecting, you might have heard.”

The baron suppressed the urge to blink. “Congratulations,” he said with as much reverence as he could muster. “You must be ... ”

“Scared to death. Thrilled. Happy. Humbled. Excited,” Grandby interrupted with several nods. “I am. Stedman is thrilled, too. I’ve made him a very rich man,” he added, his head still bobbing up and down. “Bought three necklaces for my wife last night.”

Not being familiar with a man named Stedman, Jeffrey Althorpe merely nodded before he figured the earl must have been referring to a jeweler.
Ah, Stedman and Vardon
, he remembered.

I’ll need a ring
, he realized, wondering how he would be able to work a trip to Ludgate Hill into his already busy schedule for the day. “Is this Stedman ... is his shop open late?” Jeffrey wondered as he got to his feet.

The Earl of Torrington drained his coffee. “Probably until ten, but I wouldn’t wait that long. You’ll want time to choose wisely.”

And with that, Milton Grandby took his leave of Jeffrey’s study.

Chapter 51

Arranging a Ride in the Park

After Grandby took his leave of Sommers, the younger man sat down at his desk and stared into space for a very long time.
I’m going to propose
, he thought, his breaths coming a bit quicker the more he thought about it. Well, if he was going to propose today, as Grandby insisted, then he had much to accomplish.

Pulling a sheet of parchment from a drawer, he dipped a quill into the ink bottle and began writing a note.

Dear Lady Evangeline,

I wish to request the pleasure of your company for a drive in the park this afternoon at four o’clock.

Jeffrey paused, wondering if the time would be too soon. The fashionable hour in Hyde Park was five o’clock. But traffic would be a crush at five o’clock.

I look forward to your reply,

Sincerely, Sommers

Jeffrey quickly folded the note, deciding he needed to see to its delivery before he thought about it too much. Lighting the sealing wax, he dripped a red puddle onto the space where the seams met and stamped his ‘JDS’ seal into the middle.

Once the wax was dry, he dispatched one of his footmen to Lord Everly’s house with the note. And the footman returned forty-five minutes later, bearing a note written in a beautiful, feminine hand with the simple words, “I await your arrival,

Eva.”

Eva
.

Jeffrey Althorpe, Baron Sommers, closed his eyes for a moment after reading the simple missive.

To hell with waiting until the fashionable hour
.

Eva was waiting for him.