Humberton Hall was tidier than she remembered. The garden had been severely cut back, the garden paths had been raked, and now one could see all the windows, which were much cleaner than they’d been the last time she was here.When was that?Evangeline wondered as she climbed the rise. Three years or more. Old Lady Elmore, who’d had it then, had fancied herself a grande dame and something of an eccentric, and she’d made a point of inviting Evangeline to one of her dinner parties.
She’d never been invited back. Evangeline supposed arguing that women deserved the right to vote had been a bittooeccentric for Lady Elmore.
The path led around the side of the house, past the windows of the dining room. Evangeline smiled, remembering Sir Richard calling it dreary. She meant to go to the front door, like a proper caller, but a familiar bark stopped her.
She stopped. Regardless of the threatening skies, the windows stood open, emitting the smell of freshly cooked bacon.She heard a clink of silver on china, and a faint murmur of voice. Another bark sounded.
“I say, there,” she called. “Sir Richard!”
A moment later he appeared at the window, coffee cup in hand. “Good morning, Lady Courtenay.” He bowed, not looking surprised at all.
“I do beg your pardon for disturbing you,” she said, “but I’m missing my dog. Have you seen him, by any chance?”
He grinned. “Ah. The fluffy ginger fellow with an ungovernable passion for bacon?”
“Yes,” she said wryly. She’d been fairly certain Louis was here the moment she’d caught the scent. “I take it he has invaded your house and forced his acquaintance upon you.”
“My door was open,” he replied, “and I was pleased to make his acquaintance. Won’t you join us?”
As if she had much choice, if she wanted to retrieve her wayward dog. Still, Evangeline had already untied her bonnet, and her heart skipped a beat as she followed his gestured invitation to come through the garden to the terrace door.
Inside, the dining room was not as dreary as she remembered. Sir Richard had removed most of the furniture, she realized, along with the draperies, so the room felt bigger and brighter even on this gray day. And it was painted a pale blue, not the deep red of Lady Elmore’s day.
“Lady Courtenay, allow me to present my friend and companion in travel, Gerhard von Rieger. Gerhard, this is Lady Courtenay, my new neighbor.”
She curtsied to the other man in the room, a very large fair-haired fellow who surveyed her with interest. “A pleasure, sir.”
“A very great pleasure, my lady.”
Sir Richard pulled out a chair from the round table in the center of the room. “Won’t you join us? I have rung for tea.”
“Oh no,” she tried to say. “I’ve only come to fetch my incorrigible dog.”
At her voice, Louis trotted around the table and gave a sharp little yip. He came over to sniff her hand, but dodged when she tried to slip the lead over his head. He ran back around the table.
“He has been establishing his dominance over Hercule,” said Sir Richard, his hands still on the back of the chair he’d pulled out.
“Hercule?”
He smiled. “My dog.”
Louis yapped again and Evangeline took a few steps into the room. Louis was climbing over the largest dog she had ever seen, a mountain of black and brown and white fur, who seemed to be tolerating Louis with great patience.
“He is from the mountains near Zürich,” explained Sir Richard. A gray-haired older woman carried in a tray with a steaming teapot, which she set on the sideboard. “Danke, Frau Loretz.” Her host got a cup himself and began pouring. “He has taken to your dog—Louis?”
“Prince Louis the Only, my pampered little despot of a canine.” Evangeline watched her pet sniff at the big dog’s chin before giving it a delicate lick. The larger dog returned the lick, nearly tumbling Louis over. “Have you been feeding him bacon?” She glanced over in time to see a guilty look flash across Sir Richard’s face, and an amused expression on Mr. Rieger’s. She sighed in exaggerated despair. “He will never go home with me now. Take good care of him, sir, he is yours from this day forward.”
“Nonsense.” Sir Richard carried the cup to the table and set it in front of the chair he’d pulled out. “His affections are only distracted and will swiftly revert the moment I have no more bacon.”
She laughed, and finally gave in and took the seat, setting her bonnet aside. The smile Sir Richard gave her was downright sinful. He would tempt her into so much trouble, if she weren’t careful. Not that she minded much about her reputation anymore, but her appetite for being the focus of scandal had faded over the years.
She sipped her tea, startled—in a good way—to realize it was the same type she favored. She eyed her host over the rim of the cup. Could it be chance? He was drinking coffee, as was the other gentleman, who was watching her with unnerving interest.
“My favorite kind of tea,” she said lightly. “What a coincidence we favor the same brew.”
Sir Richard’s smile deepened, his eyes merry. “Indeed, madam. The very happiest coincidence.”
It wasn’t coincidence. He’d remembered what tea she served him and now he had the same in his own house, ready to serve to her, when she came to see him. As if he’d known she would.
