Page 15 of The Marquess and the Maiden

The meeting ended. There was nothing left to say. The women left in small groups, and Harriet and Agnes decided to walk since their own houses were not far from the Somersby townhome.

“I cannot believe we’re finished,” Harriet said as they strolled down the street.

“Not finished, dear, merely on a reprieve,” Agnes said.

“How can you be so certain?”

“I don’t believe that Lady Somersby has worked this hard to simply let everything fall to the wayside.”

Harriet considered that. “Lord Somersby must be helping her.”

“Yes, I suspect that he was here today to observe. He’s had years of training and experience in this and perhaps he believes that this Lady X is in our group,” Agnes said. “The most significant problem is that if we wait until she’s ready for us to be active again, our skills will have dulled. What we need is a way we can continue to train in the interim.”

Harriet stopped walking and stared at her friend.

“A secret location,” Agnes continued, not realizing she now walked alone. “I know that my home would not work—dear heavens, my brother watches everything I do. It’s rather astounding that he doesn’t already know about our group.”

Now she knew precisely what to trade with Lord Davenport for her matchmaking services. “Agnes,” Harriet called.

She stopped and turned with a frown. “What are you doing?”

“You are brilliant, and I believe I have the perfect solution.”

…

It had been more than a week since he’d seen Harriet at the Crystal Palace, though he’d returned every day in between. He told himself it was because he was mesmerized by the architecture and exhibits, and that was true. But he also knew that part of him hoped each visit he’d run into her again. Aside from his obvious attraction to her, he wasn’t certain why he enjoyed her company. He’d decided not to spend too much thought on it. She was pretty, and his presence seemed to simultaneously make her nervous and embolden her to speak her mind. It was a heady combination.

When a note from her arrived that morning suggesting he accompany his mother on her visit to see her own later that afternoon, he’d not even considered not going. Perhaps she’d had second thoughts about helping him. But her motives didn’t even matter. He wanted to see her and she, for whatever reason, wanted to see him.

His mother had seemed surprised when he’d shown up ready to escort her to weekly tea with Lady Lockwood.

She kept smiling covertly at him in the carriage.

“I took your advice and have sought Lady Harriet’s assistance in finding myself a wife.”

“Splendid.”

“Mother.”

“I am pleased you are taking this task seriously.”

He doubted that was it, but he said nothing more. When the carriage stopped, he climbed down, then assisted his mother. Number 22 King Street was a handsome townhome with red brick and two white columns flanking the shiny black door.

He’d already noted that the entryway and foyer of the townhome were in excellent repair. The Lockwoods quite obviously took great care with their home.

“My lady,” the butler said to his mother. “The duchess has requested tea for you in the gardens.”

“Excellent choice,” his mother said.

Oliver moved to lead his mother to the back of the house where the garden doors would be, but the butler held up a hand.

“My lord, if you don’t mind, Lady Harriet suggests you might wish to wait for your mother in here.” He opened the door to their immediate right.

His mother didn’t wait for him; instead she simply smiled and waved as she followed the butler down the corridor.

Oliver noted that the parlor was tastefully decorated, and he recognized that his mother must love this room with the pale green tones. But what caught his attention most was the vaulted ceiling and the fresco painting of cherubs with gilded wings.

The butler stepped back into the room and Harriet entered, followed closely by another woman, her lady’s maid, he’d guess.

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