Thomas arched a brow and turned to Mr. Colborne. “Please see that my sister is not over-served.”
The young man stepped forward and chuckled. “I promise, my lord.” He turned to Katie. “I think people are returning to the ballroom. I plan to claim the next dance since mine was interrupted.”
Katie nodded and took Colborne’s arm and the young couple returned to the dance floor as the orchestra struck the notes for a country dance. Thomas was acquainted with Colborne’s family. They were well off with no skeletons in their closet. And as far as he knew, young Colborne had no blemishes on his name, except for being the middle son. He shook his head and smiled.Good grief! I sound like my mother. He was here to escort his sister and cousin, and he should be doing a better job instead of mooning about like a lovesick bull. Craning his neck, he searched for Paula and spotted her dancing on the other side of the ballroom. He noticed someone had opened several windows to allow fresh air to circulate, and the dowager had probably allowed them to remain open.I guess they tried to contain the smell on the other side.He chuckled to himself.
The sound of a cane rapping on the tile floor sounded from behind him. “Who might you be looking for, Lord Latham?” a familiar voice demanded.
He turned around. “Your Grace.”
“Allow me to give you some advice. You need to prove yourself to her,my boy,” she said with another thump of her cane.
“Forgive me, Your Grace, but why are you so interested in my life? Why do you care about me and Lady Gallwey?” Thomas slipped his hand into his jacket pocket and rolled the small ring box between his fingers.
She regarded him with a shimmer in her eyes that looked suspiciously like tears. “I care about both of you because I have always esteemed happy endings,” she said softly. “And you remind me of someone from a long time ago, someone very special to me.”
Was she speaking of her husband? He recalled his mother commenting once that the late Duke of Clarence had been a romantic soul and that he and the duchess had enjoyed dancing together at various balls, holding hands at picnics, and displaying their love for each other in public. The current Duke of Clarence and Thomas were only acquaintances, but Thomas knew him to be a good and honorable man. He’d never had the pleasure of meeting the duke’s late father. “What do you suggest?” he asked.
“Woo her,” the dowager replied simply. “Fix things—no matter what happened—you need to make her see you as she did before—as though you are the only man in the world for her.”
He scoffed. “She isn’t interested and has made that abundantly clear.”
“I think you are wrong. Let her see into your heart. Lady Gallwey has a child…a little girl. Her name is Maggie,” the dowager whispered. “Lady Gallwey might be reluctant to jump into another marriage or courtship because she is a wonderful mother and adores that little girl. The child’s welfare is her foremost concern.”
His gut tightened at the thought that Frankie had had a child with Gallwey—a family. “Why are you telling me this?”
“As I said, I like happy endings and I like the two of you.”
“All those years ago…you came into the garden like an avenging angel when the widow Deville tried to insert herself between Frankie and me.”
She tapped her cane on the floor and grinned. “Yes. I recall very well. And I don’t like that woman any better today. Her first husband died, and she married again, and yet, here she is a widow again. I believe his surname was Walters. But it was so brief, no one caught on to the name, so they still call her Lady Deville.” She shrugged. “Beware of that one. She’s scouting for a third husband, and I believe you could be in her crosshairs, which puts Lady Gallwey at risk as well. The widow doesn’t lose well.”
“What are you telling me that you’re not telling me?”
She glanced beyond him and then back at him. “Follow your heart. I believe there are things of which we are not aware that might illuminate your understanding of events past and present.” She started to walk away but turned back. “Do you enjoy early morning rides in the park, Lord Latham?”
“I do,” he replied with a quirk of a smile.
“Good, because I think you would quite enjoy a good canter tomorrow morning—I hear the duck pond is a lovely spot to stop and take in the air.” Her lips twitched. “You’ve been away for, oh, five years? Much has changed. May I suggest you speak to your new valet about other places you might enjoy frequenting in London? I think you’ll find him to be quite knowledgeable and resourceful.”
“I don’t understand, Your Grace. Why would my valet…?” His voice trailed off as he suddenly understood.Of course!The staff always knew things—often before he did!
She gave him a mischievous wink.
“Your Grace, I appreciate your advice,” he said, still reluctant about doing what the dowager suggested.
“I rarely interfere in matters of the heart, but as I mentioned, I like happy endings and I believe you could have one…if that is something you truly want,” she said. “You’re a handsome, wealthy, honorable, and intelligent young man. You could have your pick of practically any woman here, but many would not care about your heart—which is a very special part of who you are. To have someone that wants you for your heart…and not your wealth or position, is a very special thing. Do you not agree?”
He inclined his head and squeezed the small velvet box in his pocket. Until this very moment, he had been unsure of what he wanted… but he realized he couldn’t leave things as they were with Frankie. The dowager was right. There were things he didn’t know about Frankie and things she didn’t know about him. Five years was a long time. Much had changed in their lives, but deep down, was Frankie’s heart still open?
“If you do not try, you will never know,” the dowager whispered, almost as if she could read his mind.
Thomas’ gaze traveled to the swing in the arbor as he recalled his conversations with Frankie five years ago and tonight. “Thank you, Your Grace.” He smiled, reaching for her hand, and sketched her a courtly bow of gratitude. “You’ve given me much to think about.”
* * *
“Thank you,” Endora Deville said to the footman as she accepted her cloak. Ugh! She could scarcely stand to breathe, so rancid was the stench. That wretched debutante was the cause.Spare me these prim young misses who can’t hold their wind nor speak a sentence that isn’t bookended with silly giggles.Ugh!She smelled bad, her feet hurt from being trod all over, and her bottom was sore from the humiliating fall in that pool of vomit.
That stupid creature had completely ruined her gown. Now, she’d have to visit the modiste and fork over precious funds for a new dress. She had a mind to send a bill to the simple-minded girl’s family. Her plans this evening had been completely thwarted between the vomiting debutante and that old biddy, the dowager, lurking about.Why can’t that old crow just drop dead?She was as old as Methuselah. Endora had to act soon. Her creditors were hovering like vultures. She needed to trap a wealthy man into marriage, or she’d soon find herself in the workhouse or on her back in some rat-infested bordello.
