“Yes,” Uncle Syl informed him. “Quite a pricey one from what I heard. I’m not sure he had it out more than a time or two before the winter weather took a turn for the worse.”
“Why haven’t you told me about this before now?”
Hector and Sylvester looked at each other. It appeared neither of them had thought to mention what was by allaccounts considered a younger man’s transportation and something Zane would want to know about.
“We’ve had more important matters to discuss with you than a sporting carriage,” Syl argued.
Zane would make sure to take it out for a jaunt first thing tomorrow morning—before his uncles arrived.
“This afternoon with Mrs. Feld is in the past,” Hector continued in a disappointed tone. “Nothing to do about that now. Best to move forward and do better. What dinner party will the two of you be attending tonight?”
“What do you mean?” Zane questioned.
“It’s the Season, my lord,” Uncle Syl said in an irritated tone where Hector left off. “There are several parties in Mayfair and other places about Town. Didn’t you arrange to meet with Mrs. Feld at one of them—at a certain time?”
“No.” Tonight hadn’t crossed his mind. He’d been too busy taking pleasure in the afternoon. Their conversation, their kiss, and the way his kiss had caused her cheeks to flush as she melted against his chest.
Uncle Hector’s cane made another sharp click on the floor. His gray, full eyebrows seemed to grow together tightly right before Zane’s eyes. “Then how will you know where she will be and at what time, so you can be there as well? If you are going to pursue her, my lord, you mustpursueher.”
Tension started in the back of Zane’s neck.
Sylvester made a motion with his hands as if to calm the more excitable Hector. “Don’t get too riled about this. It’s easy enough to remedy. He can send over a note to her and ask where she plans to be at half past nine and meet her there.”
“It’s a bit late in the day for that. She may not answer him now that he didn’t ask her at the proper time.”
“No, no. It’s not.” Uncle Syl looked at Zane. “I know about these things. I’ll help you compose the note. I’m quite eloquent on occasions like this.”
This was maddening. Uncle Syl had never married. How could he know what to say to a lady? The only thing Zane wanted to do was pour himself a glass of claret, relax by the warm, crackling fire in his book room, and reminisce on the afternoon with Mrs. Feld. Thinking about her was certainly much more pleasant than listening to his uncles blather or reflect on their priorities.
Making the circle of parties during the Season wasn’t something Zane had ever cared to do. Which was why he’d never spent much time doing it. He didn’t see the sense of playing this game with Mrs. Feld. She was a widow after all. Not an innocent maiden who always had to be guarded. If he wanted to see her, why couldn’t he just go to her house and spend an evening with her?
Because of rules, manners, and Society’s strict code of acceptable behavior. Blast them all.
His uncles continued to look at him, waiting for a response. “I will figure out something for later in the week.”
“Later?” Hector exclaimed as his chin bobbed and the cane tapped. “You have four weeks to win her hand, and you are talking about later?”
“I will pursue Mrs. Feld in my own way, Uncles. I need no instructions or rules from either of you on that. She has already given me enough to follow. Now, have Fulton get your coats and go home. We are through for the day.”
“Yes, yes, we’re going,” Uncle Syl said, once again giving his brother the signal to be calmer. “Before we do, I wanted to tell you that a friend of yours, Mr. Robins, dropped by to see you.”
“Harry was here? Did you entertain one of my guests?”
“No, not at all. Naturally, when we heard someone at the door, we came out of the book room, thinking it might be you. At that point, we had to speak to him, but he decided not to wait when he found out we were already waiting.”
That was best, Zane thought. Harry wasn’t the kind of man who would find favor with his uncles. Nor them with him.
“He was kind enough to tell us what he wanted.”
Zane couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Did you ask him?”
“Not exactly,” Syl said, his brow rising.
“What someone wants with me and why they come to my door is none of your business,” Zane said in a tone that would have let an ordinary man know he had stepped over the line. He couldn’t be sure these two would understand.
“Oh, we couldn’t agree more,” Uncle Syl agreed with so much pride, his chest puffed. “But we are happy he relayed to us that the bets at White’s are up tenfold today.”
“But unfortunately, not in your favor it seems,” Uncle Hector added. “Hardly anyone thinks you will win Mrs. Feld’s hand. We expected that but are pleased everyone wants a stake in the outcome of your wager.”
