Page 30 of Ashes To Ashes
Lincoln made his way upstairs only to be accosted by Lady Vickers on the landing. She blocked his path when he tried to move around her. He should have taken the service stairs.
"I would like to know if I'm available to callers this afternoon," she said with an incline of her chin. She looked like a taller version of the queen today, dressed in deep black with a black lace cap over her hair. He suspected that was to hide the poor job her new maid did of arranging it. Some of the strands had already come loose.
"I don't care if you receive callers or not," Lincoln said.
He tried to move but once again, she blocked his way. "And you, Mr. Fitzroy? Will you be home to callers?"
"I don't have any. Those who do visit are used to me rarely being home."
"I think today will be different."
"I doubt it."
She gave him a small smile that seemed to indicate she knew something that he did not. "Did you not notice the sensation your presence caused last night?"
He noticed Julia's attentions, and the gazes of Miss Overton and her mother, but that hardly constituted a sensation. "I think you're mistaken."
"Oh no, Mr. Fitzroy. I am never mistaken when it comes to sensations. And you, sir, are one. Apparently you rarely go to balls or parties, and that makes you a curious figure. An air of mystery is very desirable in a gentleman, particularly a wealthy one. Your unknown lineage will not hold you back when it comes to the ladies, but some of their fathers are more cautious."
He held up his hands. "I'm not on the market."
She made a scoffing noise through her nose. "Nonsense. All unwed gentlemen are on the market. We can use this new intrigue to our advantage."
"We?"
She clicked her tongue. "Must I spell it out to you?"
"Yes."
She sighed. "Honestly, for a clever man, you're very stupid. Let me explain it in simple terms. Now that you have made an appearance in society, the eligible girls have gone wild. This goes doubly for my son, of course, since he's tilted. Ordinarily, two handsome, interesting bachelors would cause a problem. I'm not sure how Marjory Wadsworth did it. She has twin sons, you know."
"And?"
"Don't talk, just listen. Usually, the best candidate will win the best girl, and of course, that would be Seth since he's so agreeable. I am sorry to be blunt, Mr. Fitzroy, but I'm sure it won't shock you to learn that some girls are as afraid of you as they are intrigued by you."
"I'm not shocked."
"But since Seth's reputation is a little…tarnished, your star has risen somewhat, and I would consider you both even in the race. The girls only need to choose between a wealthy gentleman—yourself—or a titled one. That separates the girls into two camps quite neatly—those who need to marry money and those who can afford to fish around for an agreeable titled gentleman. Forget that simpering Miss Overton. I don't know what Julia is thinking. She would be more appropriate for my Seth, although I can think of better. You, on the other hand, would be suited to the Chester girl. Her father's a viscount, no less, and the estate is in ruin. He's desperate to marry her off. She tends to squint, and I suspect she needs glasses, but you shouldn't let that bother you. She's quite spirited and has a strong will, which Seth tells me is your sort—"
"Enough! I do not want a wife."
"But you need one. Besides, you had a fiancée…"
"And now I don't." He must have looked quite fierce because Lady Vickers swayed backward, away from him, and she didn't seem like the sort of woman to intimidate easily. "I am not home to callers today or any other day."
"I see. What about my son?"
"He can marry whomever he wants, but this afternoon, he has work to do for me." He tried to move around her again, but she once more blocked his path. It wouldn't be easy to pick her up and forcibly move her, as he did with Charlie when she stood in his way, but he would try if it became necessary.
"Seth is not your servant," she said stiffly.
"I beg to differ. Excuse me, madam."
She puffed out her chest, as if trying to make herself larger. "He is Lord Vickers, thank you very much."
"You and your son are here under my roof because I allow it. I can throw you out, if I wish."
Her hand fluttered at her chest and tears pooled in her eyes. It was Lincoln, however, who took a step back. Perhaps he'd gone too far. Sometimes he forgot that female sensibilities were more delicate. It occurred to him that Charlie would have picked up her skirts and marched right past him if he'd spoken to her like that. She probably would have left Lichfield then and there to prove a point.
