The Scandal of Lady Eleanor (11 page)

“What?” James seemed irritated.

Crowden pushed off from the building. “I just wondered what it was about Fowler's family that has you on alert.”

“I will let His Grace explain it to you when he sees you later.” Finally, James's gaze found her—
his Amazon
, moving gracefully along the street. Ella and Miss Aldridge closely followed the indomitable Dowager Duchess. When they were near, he advanced and took the elder woman's arm on his.

“You are a sight for these old eyes, Lord Worthing,” the duchess exclaimed. “I forgot how tiring spending money can be.”

James chuckled with her frankness. “I am happy to be of service, Your Grace.” He led her to the waiting carriage.

Crowden stepped forward to do his duty and bowed nicely to the women. “Your Grace, may I present my acquaintance, the Marquis of Godown. Crowden, this beautiful lady is the Dowager Duchess of Norfield.” The marquis bowed again; then James turned to the woman who consumed his every thought. “I wish you also to make the acquaintance of Lady Eleanor Fowler and Miss Velvet Aldridge.”

“Fowler spoke so fondly of you both; you will excuse me if I claim a prior acquaintance.”

“It is always pleasant to greet one of my brother's dear friends.” Ella smiled at Crowden, but the flicker of excitement belonged to him, and James drew in a sharp breath of desire.

His duty carried him forward, as he reached to steady the Duchess's entrance to his carriage. “Let us see you ladies home,” he said as he braced Velvet on the step. In reality, Eleanor should precede her cousin by rank, but he knew Ella would not object, and he might hold her hand those few extra seconds if she went last. “You look beautiful today, Lady Eleanor,” he murmured close to her hair as he handed her into his carriage, a place he would wish her to readily accept.

With the ladies settled, he and Crowden mounted and followed behind his town carriage. James continued to survey the streets, but he saw nothing out of place. Crowden moved close enough to speak. “So, that is Fowler's Miss Aldridge. She is everything he described.”

“I suppose she is.” James's thoughts lay on another in the carriage.

“Does Fowler still hold her in high regard?”

James glanced at his friend. “Fowler is funding his cousin's Come Out, but I believe he secretly hopes she will not find another. It is all tied up somehow in Fowler's perverted sense of honor…all that situation with Ashmita and her child.”

“Then I should look elsewhere?”

“If I tell you something, will you keep Miss Aldridge's secret?”

Crowden edged closer again. “Is it something I will enjoy knowing?”

James tugged the reins to keep his horse in line. “Miss Aldridge looks for someone to make His Grace jealous enough to declare himself.”

“She does, does she?”A smile crept across Crowden's face. “Tormenting Fowler was always one of my favorite pastimes.”

“So I explained to the lady.” James said nothing more. If Crowden wished to become involved in the craziness of Fowler's life, then he was free to do so.

“How is Mary?” Crowden asked suddenly.

James flinched. His thoughts rarely fell on his mistress these days. “I have seen her but once in nearly a month, and even then…” He did not finish his thoughts.

“Ah, like Fowler, you have the sweet love fever, I see.” Crowden never let his smile fade.

“Why do you say that?”

Crowden's horse sidestepped a sweeper before he could answer. “When a man employs a mistress but never
employs
that said mistress, a woman of the upper class is at fault. As you spent the last few weeks with Fowler's family, I conjecture it to be the lovely Lady Eleanor.”

Irritated that his attentions were so obvious, James ignored Crowden's last remark and edged his horse forward where he might see Eleanor as she sat in his carriage. The previous evening, they had spent time together on the pianoforte bench—shoulders touching—arms brushing against one another. Now, he needed to look upon her again.

“You and Lord Godown will join us for tea, will you not, Lord Worthing?” Ella asked through the open window when James came close.

“I believe I have told you, Lady Eleanor, that unless you employ hired guards to protect Briar House, then I shall be a nuisance.”

 

Ella traced his form. She could not but feel a rush of desire, seeing Lord Worthing as he sat a horse. He was very masculine, and she knew it—her body recognized his. “Still no guards, Lord Worthing,” she teased. When he smiled at her; Ella found anticipation skimming her nerves. The blatant provocation scattered her thoughts and weakened her knees. He dared her to live again. “Never to you.”

 

Returning to Briar House, James was sore to leave Eleanor so he encouraged Godown to entertain the three ladies, and even Sonali, with tales of their unusual adventures. Laughter emanated throughout the room. “I swear,” Godown gestured with fingers barely apart, “they are no larger than this.”

“But they are snails!” Eleanor wiped at her eyes, laughing joyously, making her more beautiful in James's estimation.

“Oh, yes, escargot are truly snails,” he assured her.

Godown, standing before the mantel at center stage, pulled himself up to his full height. “Be exact, Worthing,” he warned goodhumoredly. “Not every snail is used. Only the
petit-gris
or the
Helix pomatia
make good escargot. Did you know, Miss Aldridge, they actually have snail farms in France?”

“You tease me, Lord Godown? Maybe we should speak to Brantley, Ella, about converting some of the cottagers to snail farming. After all, if a Frenchman can do it, an Englishman must be able to do it better.”

From the doorway behind them, Fowler joined the conversation. “The British farmer prefers his crops above ground,” he observed as he strode forward to join the group. He extended his hand to the marquis but did not interrupt the flow. Instead, he lifted Sonali and took the seat she occupied, placing the child on his lap.

“Between the escargot and the roe, we were quite surprised, even those of us who had made a Grand Tour and thought we knew everything,” James added.

The Dowager Duchess turned to him.“Roe?You mean venison?”

“
Roe
in French cuisine are fish eggs, usually in a salty sauce,” Fowler informed them.

“What else?”Velvet demanded, focusing all her attention on the marquis, a fact of which Fowler quickly took notice. James watched a scowl cross the duke's face.

Godown did not hesitate in his response. “The Persian food surprised me; I expected something spicy, along the lines of what I found in India, but it was different…more herbs than spices: saffron, cinnamon, and diced limes. His Grace was quite fond of
sesanjan,
were you not?”

“
Sesanjan
?” Ella tried the word. “What is that?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary.
Sesanjan
is chicken in a pomegranate sauce with walnuts.”

“That sounds delicious,” Ella observed.

James rejoined the discourse. “I preferred the
ghormeh sabzi
. It is
lamb with herbs and lemon—quite a subtle concoction.”

“I would like to try it sometime.” Ella shot a quick glance his way, and he winked at her. The way he spoke to her, as if she was important, gave Eleanor the contentment she had never known. It was not in what they discussed; it was that Worthing found her a valued companion. It was a heady experience, and she did not want it to end, although she secretly feared it might. And it brought more confusion to how she felt about James Kerrington. At moments such as these, she thought they might make a loving couple, and then she would remember that he had once loved another. It was all very puzzling, and, like her brother, Ella did not enjoy unsolved puzzles.

“Do you remember how much wine Behrouz could drink?” Godown began another tease.

Fowler explained, “Behrouz was our guide.”

Godown continued his thoughts. “Behrouz loved to quote the Quran about wine. Some of his fellow tribesmen thought it a decadent activity, but Behrouz claimed the Quran encouraged wine drinking when it speaks of giving the fruit of the palm and wine. I cannot remember the exact words, but Behrouz quoted the passage often.”

“Who was the prince from Gurgan he quoted?” Fowler looked from one friend to another.

James took up the answer. “Kaikakavos.”

“Behrouz extolled Prince Kaikakavos. As before, I cannot remember his exact words, but they dealt with the ancient belief that drinking wine was a transgression. The prince supposedly had said that if one was to commit a transgression, it should not be a flavorless one.”

James expanded on his friend's story. “And if you drink wine, make it the best. If you are to end up in purgatory in the next world for your sins, at least in this one you should not be branded a fool.” Everyone laughed at the ease with which the stories flowed. Good friends made both Ella and Velvet feel more comfortable
about the upcoming Season.

“Lady Eleanor, would you and Miss Aldridge care to join me for a ride in Hyde Park tomorrow morning?” he asked as he prepared to leave.

“We would be pleased to join you, Lord Worthing.”

“I will call for you at eight, if I may? Hyde Park is relatively clear at that hour.”

“May we prevail on you to join us also, Your Lordship?” Miss Aldridge boldly turned to the marquis. James supposed she would put her plan into place.

Godown evidently agreed in principle to help her because he gave Ella's cousin his best smile. “I can think of nothing more delightful, Miss Aldridge.”

James wondered how Brantley Fowler would take to Crowden's attention to Miss Aldridge. Over the years, he had broken up several fights between Fowler and Crowden, as their “friendly competition” sometimes turned to blows. Fowler had told them all, thousands of times, how he would return to England some day to claim his cousin. Now, they both played at games: Fowler granted Miss Aldridge a Season from which he hoped she would choose no one, and the lady flirted with one of Thornhill's friends, trying to force the duke into declaring himself. He thought they might both pay the price for their deceptions. James did not like such games, and he respected Ella for not being so blatantly circuitous. He wanted to court Eleanor Fowler in a deferential and timely manner; he wanted to make her his wife.

He called for the ladies promptly at eight. “Lord Worthing?” Ella questioned when she saw him holding the reins for the chocolatecolored mare. The Briar House groom presented horses for her and Velvet.

James bowed to her. “I know it is presumptuous of me to do so, but I had Athena sent to London from my home in Derby. I
thought her the perfect complement to your riding. If you like her, I will speak to your brother about transferring Athena to the Briar House stable.” In reality, he planned to present the animal to Eleanor as a wedding gift if she accepted him.

Tears misted her eyes. “To replace Sampson?” she murmured.

He stepped closer so only Ella could hear. “I could not bear to see you so forlorn, Lady Eleanor. I wished only to ease your pain.”

She bit her bottom lip in hesitation. “No one else has even considered my attachment to Sampson.”

James thought,
No one else knows you as I do
, but he said, “Then let us give Athena an audition, shall we?” He lifted Ella to the saddle and handed up the reins. She squeezed his fingertips in reward, and James's heart lurched in satisfaction. After mounting his own horse, he carefully led them through the London streets, avoiding hawkers displaying their day wares. “Those who want to have full freedom during their ride come even earlier. I have several friends who miss the openness of the country. They are here at dawn's crack to ride breakneck across Rotten Row and around the Serpentine, trying to capture the excitement of a full gallop.”

“I imagine you among their number, Lord Worthing,” Ella's cousin teased.

“I am, Miss Aldridge, upon occasion.”

They entered Hyde Park off Grosvenor, where they met the marquis. “Ah, Ladies, it is rare to see two such beautiful gems so early in the day.” He touched his hat with his riding crop in an acknowledgment.

“Lord Godown, you appear in good spirits today,” Eleanor remarked as she brought her horse alongside of Worthing's.

“What man would not be as such in your company, Lady Eleanor?”

Although Fowler trailed them along the park's complementary streets, James noted the man's appearance, and he was sure from the raised eyebrow that Crowden did also. James assumed somehow that the marquis and Miss Aldridge had come to some sort
of understanding—a joint venture to drive Brantley Fowler crazy with jealousy.
It must be working,
James thought,
because Fowler is making a fool of himself.
Ignoring their childish games, James forced his horse to turn Ella's toward a far-off tree line. “Shall we race, Lady Eleanor?”