William struggled with his emotions and spoke when he had them firmly under control. “But Mama said I should speak to you. That it was your decision.”
“Did she?”
“I did.”
They both swung their heads toward Elizabeth and gasped, although Richard was sure William’s noise was because he’d been startled, whereas his was a direct reaction to her ethereal beauty. Her face pale against her indigo frock, her hair down and shining almost white in the morning sunlight, she looked more angelic than earthly. He shook his head, knowing he must not succumb to such romantic notions, but he could not take his eyes off her. She was truly breathtaking.
“Forgive my manners,” Richard said, clearing his throat and getting to his feet. William followed suit.
She waved away his apology and took a seat across from William’s chair, to Richard’s right. “You may both sit, please.”
He waited until Hastings had poured a chocolate for Elizabeth before continuing, his thoughts now back on track.
“What is your opinion regarding a pony for William? At Thornwood Manor. Or should we talk about this later?”
William sat straighter but didn’t say a word. A sensible lad. Surely it was not too soon for his own pony?
“I will worry regardless of what age William is, so I leave it to your discretion. I trust you to make the right decision. Besides, you were once a boy, whereas I have never been one.” She smiled at William, who appeared far too tense and focused to smile back. “So you bring a perspective I do not have.”
He didn’t get his own pony until he was five, but like William, he’d been seated on leased ponies at a young age. Quite young, as he had no memory of ever not being on a pony or a horse. He’d made a point of William’s ongoing exposure to the full stable of horses at Thornwood Manor and had taken the boy on rides with him in the park with great success. There was truly nothing like riding. It was a pastime he thoroughly enjoyed.
“When I return to the country, we will choose the right one.”
William flew from his chair and threw his arms around Richard. “Oh, Papa, thank you!”
“It’s Papa again now, is it, not sir?” he teased, ruffling his hair. “Thank your mother. She is the one brave enough to let you have one of your own.”
William ran over to his mother and repeated his exuberant performance. She hugged him back and kissed each cheek. Richard enjoyed the child in the boy as much as the man. Elizabeth was doing a fine job.
“Why don’t you share the news with Sebastian and Hannah?” she said, laughing as he ran from the room without a glance backward.
“Manners are a fleeting thing,” Richard said, signaling for more coffee.
“As they should be when you’re not yet four. His birthday is next month. I must plan a gathering. Will we be in London?”
It was a simple question, but he had no answer. For many reasons, he could not tell her about this business with Patricia, and he had no idea how long it would take to play out. Andwe? How long could he manage to stay under the same roof and not fall to her charms?
“For you, my lord.” A footman stood with a note on a tray. Grateful for the interruption, he waved him in and unfolded it.
Mrs. Tate’s Parlor at seven o’clock. Alone. 10 guineas.
“Please excuse me,” Richard said, pushing from his chair. He needed to speak with Walford. He also needed to escape her inquiring gaze. He glanced back from the doorway. “I’ll not be available this evening.”
He didn’t wait to see her face, fearing she’d have the same glazed eyes as their son had earlier. Richard fled down the hall, cursing himself for the coward he knew himself to be.