Page 12 of Loving a Dowager
“Landon is well aware that I do as I please.” Her gaze shifted to their right. “It appears your nephew hasn’t entirely given up his pursuit of Miss White.”
Walter scanned the far wall and caught Nicholas granting a rather perturbed Miss White a rare but charming lopsided grin. How peculiar for Nicholas to be revealing a side of himself that was typically reserved only for family. Rather than being charmed, Miss White jutted her nose up in the air and stomped on his poor nephew’s booted toe as she turned and left Nicholas’s side.
Henrietta laughed. “Mayhap I should stop allowing you to distract me andweshould consider searching for other eligible ladies.”
Walter let out a half sigh, half chuckle. “That may well be a wise option.”
Dread seeped into his bones as the last notes of the waltz were played. “I suppose it would be scandalous for us to continue our investigations here on the dance floor.”
“Why, Walter Weathersbee, you surprise me. To actually think I used my pin money as a girl to bribe you to engage in dance practice with me.”
A full hearty laugh escaped him. It was good to share the fonder moments of their childhood. “You never benefited from the blunt you invested in me. However, you shan’t tonight either. Landon shall descend upon us shortly.”
Henrietta spun out of his arms and faced her son. “Ah, my dear boy. Have you come bearing news?”
Landon arched one eyebrow in his mother’s direction. “I have indeed received word from my runners. However, now is not the time nor the location for such discussion. Might I suggest we retire for the evening?” The boy nodded, finally acknowledging Walter. “Lord Weathersbee, if you and your nephew are not otherwise engaged later this eve, perhaps you will join me for a drink at my club?” Landon pulled out his pocket watch. “Say, on the hour?”
Walter was no fool. Landon had issued the order in the disguise of a friendly invitation for the benefit of those within hearing. Nicholas and he would be expected to appear at Brooks, and from Landon’s tone the news he was about to receive was not of the good sort. Walter nodded. “I shall extract my nephew from the fray.” Turning to Henrietta, he said, “My thanks for a very enlightening evening. It shall be a rather interesting season if tonight was an indication as to what is to come.”
Landon whisked his mother away, and instead of feeling regret as he usually did at seeing Henrietta leave, hope flourished. It may have taken him over three decades to emerge from the shadows, but now that he had, there was no going back.
Chapter Seven
Nicholas hobbled next to Walter as they were escorted to a section of Brooks neither of them had access to previously. The footman halted and opened a door to a dimly lit private parlor. The clandestine location, the sparse but luxurious furnishings inside reminded Walter he was dealing with the Head PORF, privy to information and resources that most were unaware even existed. Walter stripped out of his great coat, handed his hat, coat and gloves to the stoic footman, and waited for Nicholas to do the same. Hands clasped behind his back, he entered the room, noting the faint scent of sandalwood and the distinct lack of cigar and tobacco smoke. Landon’s lung condition made him hypersensitive to air particulates, just like his papa.
To his left, Nicholas fell into one of the leather chairs facing the fire. His nephew stretched out his leg and rolled his foot at the ankle. “The cursed woman stomped on my toes.”
Opting to stand when Landon arrived, Walter made his way to the mantel to face both the door and Nicholas. “What did you do or not do that prompted the sweet Miss White to act in such a manner?”
“Sweet! That woman is all vinegar—a complete harridan.” Nicholas huffed and crossed his arms over his chest.
Walter studied his nephew’s perturbed features. Nicholas rarely let his emotions rule his behavior, and if this was the effect Miss White had on his nephew, he hoped Henrietta would quickly identify other potential ladies. Henrietta. Would he ever not feel the pangs of parental guilt? Probably not. While he had been experiencing the best eve in the company of the woman he loved, his poor nephew had been put through the wringer. “She’s a harridan, is she? I hope you refrained from referring to her as such.”
“Of course I abstained from using such language in the presence of a lady.” Nicholas heaved in a deep breath. “Miss White lured me into believing she could be pleasant company while we danced. No discussion of the weather or other such nonsense. She even smiled a time or two, but she fled as soon as the last note was played. Hoping to become better acquainted with the version of the lady I danced with, I sought out Miss White.” The lad let out deep sigh that Walter knew all too well. It meant Nicholas was about to make some type of confession. “I made a remark that her position as companion was in jeopardy now that her cousin intended to marry Lord Otterman.” His nephew shook his head woefully from side to side. “Miss White proceeded to accuse me of calling her long in the tooth, an aging spinster with no prospects, amongst other less polite phrases, and proceeded to punctuate her statements by stomping on my toes as she left my company.”
Nicholas was not one to mince words—a trait that many did not admire or understand. “The female brain is complex, my dear boy. In my experience, those of fairer sex often interpose random suppositions at a mere blink of an eye or the twitch of a brow. Confounding, to be certain.”
“More like mystifying.” Nicholas crossed his feet at the ankles and leaned back to stare up at the ceiling. “How am I ever to find a lady to wed?”
A deep chuckle echoed through the room. Landon’s tall form entered, and he sauntered over to the chair next to Nicholas. “You shall have to dance with every eligible lady this season. The lady you are most compatible with on the dance floor will also prove to be a fine bed partner. Thus ensuring you see to your duty that the next heir to the Darlington title is sired.”
Nicholas straightened and faced Landon. “Your mama shared the same theorem with me earlier; however, not verbatim.”
What an interesting hypothesis. Walter recalled Henrietta’s adorably flushed cheeks as he pulled her closer, moving in unison with ease across the dance floor. Yes, he could well imagine Henrietta would be a lively bed partner. The woman had danced through his dreams many times over the decades, sometimes naked. But in recent years, she’d appeared more frequently devoid of clothing, riding him hard with her glorious hair falling over plump breasts. The fantasy made it necessary to shift his weight, bringing Landon’s attention to fall upon him. The boy’s dark scowl reminded him now was not the time nor the place to be picturing Henrietta in bed.
Thankfully Nicholas’s “Humph” had Landon returning his attention to Walter’s nephew, who inquired, “How many ladies trod upon your poor feet prior to dancing with the Countess of Hadfield?”
Landon revealed that elusive dimple. “Interestingly, I never danced with my dear wife prior to our wedding. However, I can’t find fault in my mama’s theorem. It was only after a rather poignant discussion with a lady I now deem a dear friend, on the dance floor, that I realized the depths of my love for Bronwyn.”
Walter moved to the side bar and poured the dark, rich brandy into a tumbler, taking a moment for himself. His hand shook as he lifted the glass to his lips now that he’d made the decision to pursue his dreams and risk rejection.
Behind him Nicholas groaned. “Perhaps I shall settle for a bluestocking or a wallflower and save my toes.”
Walter turned to find Landon consoling Nicholas with a pat on the shoulder. “I wish you well for the season, Darlington. My mama will not be satisfied with a marriage of convenience nor a union based on anything other than love.” Landon stood and joined Walter. “It is not your nephew’s marital status that I’ve come to discuss. My informants believe Otterman may be maintaining a family in secret.” He held out a parchment for Walter.
Taking the folded piece of paper, Walter scanned the note. “I shall take care of the investigations myself.”
“It might be wise to take Darlington with you.”
