Read Barbara Metzger Online

Authors: The Wicked Ways of a True Hero (prc)

Barbara Metzger (28 page)

 

 

Why this sudden interest, Daniel? You are not thinking of doing a little matchmaking of your own?

 

 

He wasnt about to lie to his own mother, so he told the truth, what he wished her to know, at any rate. I am thinking of taking a minor post with his office. Not for money, of course, and not a full-time position. Just a gentleman-adviser type of thing. I wanted to get to know him better before I decide.

 

 

His mothers brow furrowed as she sipped her sherry. But, dear, he works with the Finance Ministry, does he not? You hate settling your own accounts.

 

 

Oh, I dont intend to shuffle papers and figure sums like one of his clerks. Lord, no, although I am getting better at the estate ledgers, you know.

 

 

Yes, and I am glad to see you taking over. But what in the world could you be advising Lord Trowbridge about, dear? Not that I doubt your abilities, of course.

 

 

Now he avoided her quizzical look by refilling her glass. Hes asked me to assist with some technical business about finding errors, that kind of thing.

 

 

Similar to what you did in the army?

 

 

Not half as fraught.

 

 

Ah, youd be more of an investigator, like Rex was, or Harry.

 

 

Something like that, I suppose. We havent exactly settled on my role. What do you know about him?

 

 

He used to be handsome. Is he still?

 

 

Daniel wasnt in the habit of judging a man on his looks. His character, his skills, his speed of reaction, maybe, but not the arrangement of his features. He pictured the viscount in his mind: upright posture, trim waist, full head of hair. Eyes and nose and mouth in the right places. I suppose you could call him handsome. Trowbridge was good-looking enough to meet Cories requirements, anyway.

 

 

His mother took a few moments to search her memories. I met his wife a few times. A lovely woman, a shame she died so young. Annabelle? Mirabelle? Something like that. She was an Armitage, I believe. An arranged marriage, of course.

 

 

Of course?

 

 

His family was very political. Hers was a powerful force in the government. They were not about to let their progeny marry all willy-nilly without advantage. Trowbridge is in line for a cabinet post, I hear, so the alliance must have been successful. By all reports the marriage was, too. I never heard of an affair or a scandal on either side. I believe she bore him two sons, just as she ought. Both should be at university by now.

 

 

When you say just as she ought, did you regret not giving Father the heir and the spare?

 

 

I regretted not having more children, of either gender. But it was not to be, so I never fretted over it. Neither did your father. We had Susanna for him to spoil unmercifully, and you were enough to make any father doubly proud. Besides, it was not as if Stamfield Manor was entailed or there was a title to pass down.

 

 

While his mother was being so talkative, due either to the sherry or the exhausting afternoon, Daniel mentioned something else that was bothering him: You know, I always wondered about that. You spent part of your early years in London, and you knew everyone.

 

 

Of course I did. Everyone who mattered, at least. My father was an earl, you know. That meant I was invited everywhere.

 

 

So you could have had your choice of any beau you wanted?

 

 

More or less. An earls unwed daughter was always popular, especially when her dowry was substantial. She used her napkin to pat her lips. And I was considered quite a beauty in my day.

 

 

You still are beautiful, Mother, her loyal son said, and meant it.

 

 

And you are still my darling baby boy.

 

 

He had to smile at that, towering over her as he did. But why, if you had so many men to choose from, did you choose Papa? Ive always wondered. Was it because he lived nearby and you could stay close to your parents?

 

 

It was no such thing, Daniel. I would have followed Peter Stamfield to Scotland if he lived there. I would have followed him to the ends of the world. We grew up together, you know, and neither one of us ever thought about marrying another.

 

 

Even though Father was no London swell? No polished gentleman? Papa was a farmer to the core, and your other beaux must have been the sons of dukes and earls.

 

 

And one foreign prince, Ill have you know. But your father did not precisely walk barefoot behind the horses plowing the fields or eat with his fingers. He loved the landI hope you will find that same sense of belonging once you settle downbut he was educated as a gentleman, and had more honor than many of them. Yes, he was hearty and bluff and plainspoken, but he never lied to me. She dabbed at her eyes with the napkin.

 

 

I am sorry, Mother. I did not mean to disparage my father in any way. A boy could not ask for a better sire. I would have hated a London puffguts. I did not mean to make you cry.

 

 

I know, dear. Its just sad to recall that I lost my best friend. But let us not dwell on the past, not today. The future lies ahead, does it not?

 

 

Its this marriage business. Deuced hard to comprehend, you know.

 

 

No, dear, it is the simplest thing on earth. She found the pad and pencil she always kept nearby for her endless lists. Now, is there anyone else you would like me to invite besides your Lord Trowbridge? Perhaps some dukes daughter?

 

 

Mother!

 

 

Quite right. It really is too short notice. But we are to attend the theater tomorrow night. Do you think Lord Trowbridge might like to go with us if he is already engaged for this evening? There is nothing exceptional about that for a gentleman in mourning, you know, not unless a comedy or a farce is on the program. They are performing Shakespeare tomorrow, I believe one of the tragedies. Only the highest sticklers can find fault with that.

 

 

Daniel far preferred the farces himself, but he considered that Trowbridge must have few diversions, with no balls or card parties and such. He might be ready for company. Ready to consider his own future. Ready to look about him for a second wife. Please invite him, Mother, as long as were not seeing
Romeo and Juliet
. It wont do to give the gabble-grinders a reminder of that preposterous story of Miss Abbotts tragic love affair.

 

 

 

 

 

Miss Abbott, meanwhile, was in her bedchamber changing her damp clothes and having a good laugh. Shed laughed more this afternoon, washing the dog, than she had in ages, in fact.

 

 

But what a joke, Daniel Stamfield promising to find her a husband! The man thought marriage was a curse word worse than any hed let escape his lips, an utter blasphemy against the male race. Yet he was sweet enough to say hed try.

 

 

He was intelligent enough to know what to look for, too. The qualities he mentioned were those shed look for in a husband herself: kindness, honesty, respectfulness, and no bad habits.

 

 

She doubted Daniel knew anyone like that.

 

 

As she brushed out her hair, she thought of their conversation. Hed been more than kind, listening to her and believing her. Hed treated her with respect. His eyes had wandered where they oughtnt a time or two, but he never took advantage of the close quarters or the secluded corridor. Heavens, they were in his bedchamber. He had every right to think she could be treated more familiarly than with a kiss on the hand.

 

 

His honesty had never been in question, only his intelligence, which she now knew was sharp and knowing, when he chose to use it.

 

 

No bad habits? Ha!

 

 

 

 

 

The dinner was perfect, neither too large nor too small, with no fussy or demanding guests, and no single females of marriageable age other than Corie and Susanna, who did not count. Neither of them was a threat to Daniels freedom.

 

 

Lord Morgan managed to totter down the stairs, leaning on Daniel on one side and Miss Reynolds on the other, listing more toward the former governess, Daniel noted, than toward his own, far more muscular, arm.

 

 

Clarence Haversmith and an older married couple, neighborhood friends of Lady Royces, dined with them, too.

 

 

Lord Trowbridge was the perfect guest, polite and conversant, knowledgeable about whatever topic was under discussion without being forcefully opinionated. He was a true diplomat, Daniel considered, while he himself found little to speak about with the neighbor lady on his right other than to pass the dishes. Miss Reynolds on his left was too busy helping Lord Morgan select the healthiest foods to bother with Daniel, which was fine. So were the beef, the turbot, and the braised lamb.

 

 

Lord Trowbridge sat at Lady Coras right, with Corie on his other side. They seemed to be dealing well, sharing anecdotes and smiles along with the wine and side dishes.

 

 

Trust his annoying little sister to ruin a promising relationship. Susanna asked, across the table, no less, how Lord Trowbridge came to know Daniel. Which had Trowbridge explaining hed come to Mr. Stamfield for assistance in some banking matters.

 

 

Susanna almost fell off her seat in laughter, the wretch. But, Daniel, Mother did your banking for years.

 

 

Daniel could feel the embarrassed color creep into his cheeks. He looked to see if Corie was laughing, too. She was too busy cutting her meat.

 

 

His mother was nicer. I think its excellent your brother is finding a way to be useful. Thank you, Lord Trowbridge, for recognizing my sons sterling qualities.

 

 

Lord Trowbridge raised his wineglass to Daniel. Sterling and gold, indeed. We intend to rely heavily on his expertise.

 

 

No matter what Corie decided, Daniel liked the fellow, especially when his lordship turned the conversation so no one asked what expertise Daniel could possibly bring to the Finance Ministry.

 

 

After the meal, over cheese and fruit, Lady Cora said they were having such a delightful evening that it would be a shame to leave for Lady Barres ball after all. Lord Morgan was too ill to attend, Lord Trowbridge was in mourning, and the neighbors hated traveling through Londons streets after dark. If Corie and Susanna did not mind, of course.

 

 

Susanna said she was content to play spillikins and charades with Clarence. Corie was relieved that she would not have to be on exhibit tonight. Not that I care about the gossip, she told them.

 

 

Daniels big toe started to feel warm. His mothers right eyelid twitched. Susanna sneezed.

 

 

They all decided theyd be happy to stay in another night. The neighbors left for their own home.

 

 

Lord Morgan suggested cards, which Lady Cora vetoed. She wanted a musical evening instead, like the ones she used to enjoy with her children and neighbors. She played the pianoforte until Miss Reynolds took over, with Lord Morgan beside her to turn the pages. Daniel got back at his sister by asking her not to play. Corie and Susanna sang together; then Clarence surprised them with a resounding tenor voice. Daniel joined in with his baritone.

 

 

They werent half bad, Daniel considered, enjoying himself far more than he would at a dance or a gaming den.

 

 

Trowbridge couldnt carry a tune in a bucket, but he was an excellent audience, obviously enjoying this moment of simple pleasure. He called out requests, and supplied words when the vocalists stumbled over the lyrics. He even rubbed the dogs ears while they performed.

 

 

After tea, he thanked them all and kissed Lady Coras hands when he left, in appreciation of a delightful evening, he said. He gladly accepted her invitation to join them for tomorrows theater party and offered to host dinner at the Grand Hotel afterward.

 

 

What do you think? Daniel asked when hed left.

 

 

Corie was sipping at the last of her tea. Daniel was eating the last of the poppy seed cake. Lord Morgan and Miss Reynolds had gone upstairs, perhaps on account of the dogs presence, perhaps on reasons more personal. Lady Cora was conferring with Dobbson, and Susanna and Clarence were squabbling over jackstraws.

 

 

What do I think about what? Corie wanted to know.

 

 

About Lord Trowbridge, of course. He seems perfect to me. Couldnt ask for a nicer chap. Hes smart, pleasant, polite, and knows his own limitations. He likes dogs, too, which says a lot about a man, I always said.

 

 

Yes, he seemed quite nice.

 

 

Hell be in mourning for another few months, but thats not to keep him from making his intentions clear.

 

 

She stirred her tea. I suppose not.

 

 

The tea was tepid; so was her response. Daniel pressed her for a shade more enthusiasm. Then you think I should encourage him?

 

 

Most definitely.

 

 

That was better, but now Daniel could not tell if he was relieved or disappointed or just suffering indigestion. He fed the last slice of poppy seed cake to the dog.

 

 

Ill speak to him in the morning when I see him at the bank.

 

 

Oh, there is no need for you to say anything that might prove embarrassing to both of you. I think Lord Trowbridge made up his own mind already. And I believe she gave him enough encouragement herself.

 

 

She? Herself?

 

 

Why, your mother of course. Didnt you notice the way they were recounting old stories and comparing mutual friends? How she showed so much interest in his sons? Why, they will be perfect, and the delay for his mourning period will not matter. Your mother swears she is not going to think about her future until Susanna is settled. He will be ready by then. Lady Cora will make him the ideal hostess as he rises in the government, and she will be thrilled with the London scene.

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