He grinned. “Someone with a sense of humor, perhaps.”
Harriett wondered if he would change his mind when he saw Leonora. She sorely lacked a sense of humor, but it didn’t seem to worry men at all.
“And what about you, Harry? What sort of husband do you seek?”
“Someone who doesn’t quote reams of his own prose to me,” she said, thinking of Mr. Ducksworth.
He laughed. “Not romantically inclined, then, young Harry?”
Harriet felt very grownup when he looked at her with those blue eyes. She definitely had the ability to be romantic with the right person, but she merely shook her head.
“Living in London, I would have thought some Pink of theTonwould have snapped you up by now.” He cocked his head with a grin. “Hopefully not one who favors so ridiculously a high collar he cannot turn his head.”
Mr. Ducksworth’s intricately tied cravat swam into her vision. “Certainly not.” She turned to continue along the corridor.
They entered the parlor, where her parents greeted Gerard warmly. Her mother sent the maid for a fresh pot of tea.
“Good to see you, lad,” Harrison said, throwing off his shawl.
“You seem much better today, sir,” Gerard said. He strolled over to the window and opened the curtains. Without a murmur of complaint about the sun shining in his eyes, Harrison began an inventory of his ailments, some quite disgusting in Harriet’s opinion. She longed to cover her ears or leave the room, but was a captive audience along with her parents, and could do neither.
“When you feel up to it, we need to discuss some estate matters,” Gerard said to Harrison.
Harrison nodded and slumped limply in his chair as if it was all beyond him.
Leonora wound a golden curl around her finger, and released it to spring back and nestle against the flawless skin of her cheek. “Why don’t you come to London, Gerard? We haven’t seen you for ages.”
He smiled at her. “Confess, you hardly remember me at all.”
Leonora gave a peal of laughter. “I do too. That last time was when you were home from Oxford.”
“I keep to the country these days. I’m a farmer.”
“But you are now an earl since your papa died, are you not?” she said, earning a sharp glance from her mother.
“A slightly impoverished one.” Gerard took a cup of tea from her mother. “Thank you.”
“But you have that big house and acres and acres of land,” Leonora persisted.
“Mortgaged to the hilt,” Gerard said mournfully, taking a proffered cucumber sandwich.
“Sorry to hear it, my boy,” her father said. “I always thought your father to be a good manager.”
“There was a savage downturn in the market. He had some failed investments in his final years, I’m afraid.”
Father nodded. “Bad times can descend on us all.”
Leonora bounced to her feet. “Might a maid show me to my room? I’d like to change my clothes.”
“Oh, you can’t stay here!” Harrison puffed out his cheeks in dismay. “The rooms are all under covers. I only use two or three these days. This place is too expensive to run.”
“But, Harrison, I wrote to you,” her mother spluttered.
“I never read letters, a complete waste of time.”
“We’ve come all this way,” Mama said desperately. “The horses are spent.”
“Is there a decent hostelry nearby?” her father asked. “We can visit you again tomorrow before we return to London.”
