Page 33 of Courting the Country Miss

As they climbed into the carriage, Isabella with her violin case tucked under her arm, Leticia let out a happy sigh. After Isabella’s triumph tonight, no one would fault her for Leticia’s involvement in the school.

Chapter Ten

Tristan loped into Cribb’s Parlor in the center of a throng of friends from the Four Horse Club, all still whooping over Tristan’s victory in the curricle race moments ago.

“Barrett’s buying!” Appleton shouted.

Tristan shrugged. “I suppose, considering all I’ve won, I can at least buy the first round.”

This announcement brought on another roar of cheers, and he settled in among his friends as he told his victory over again amidst interruptions of the others telling what they’d seen. As the night went on and the conversation dissolved into a dozen tangents, Tristan sipped his brandy. He looked down at his glass—still his first one, while the others already gulped down their third round. Strange, but he rather liked his clear-headed focus instead of stumbling through a drunken fog. Something must be wrong with him.

The others swayed in their seats and some made a game of trying to pinch the rump of the serving girl as she passed. The girl looked alarmed instead of flirtatious.

Tristan swatted away the hand of the fellow next to him. “Leave her alone, Palmer. Can’t you see she isn’t interested?”

Palmer made a face. “You aren’t any fun, Barrett. What, are you getting all respectable on us?”

“Keep your hands off the girl,” Tristan said, anger edging his voice.

“Ah, leave off,” Appleton slurred, “Barrett’s right. Go after greener fields or shomething.”

Palmer let it go, but the longer Tristan sat there, the more he wanted to leave. His friends’ language turned more and more bawdy. Instead of joining in like he used to, Tristan wanted to apologize to anyone who might overhear them.

Repulsed, Tristan stood. “I must leave you, gents. Have a grand evening.”

A few including Appleton called out farewells, but the rest were too deep in their cups to notice. Palmer laughed raucously at something and swayed so hard he almost fell off his seat.

Tristan stepped out of the pub and adjusted his hat. Night had fallen since they went inside, but it had hardly passed the dinner hour. What to do with the rest of his evening? His empty bachelor rooms waited with nothing but the promise of loneliness. Perhaps he could catch Richard at White’s. He often went there after a day at Parliament before going home to his wife.

Tristan arrived in White’s in the middle of a high-stakes game of faro. Richard stood watching, his arms folded, his expression grave. When Tristan walked in, Richard’s gaze flitted to him, then he motioned him over.

“Someone is about to lose a fortune.” His searching gaze revealed his curiosity at seeing Tristan in the respectable Tory club for the second time this Season. “Come, join me in a drink.”

They took a seat away from the game, but Tristan waved off the drink. “I’ve already had enough for tonight.”

Richard’s brows shot up but he made no comment. “Have you eaten yet?”

“No. You?”

“I’m going home to dine with Elizabeth soon. How goes your search for Leticia’s future husband?”

“I’ve introduced her to several but she doesn’t seem to show a preference for any of them. Other men are starting to take note of her.”

Richard swirled his drink in his glass as if debating with himself. “Have I introduced you to Lord Bradbury?”

“No. Why?”

“Rumor has it he’s looking for a wife. Something about pressure from his father to continue the family line.” He gestured with his chin to the table where the game took place on the other side of the room. “He’s the one wearing the silver-and-green waistcoat. This is the first game I’ve seen him play in a long time.”

“So, he’s not a frequent gambler.”

“Not that I know of.”

The man Richard indicated wore an expensive suit. A fashionably lean gentleman of perhaps thirty, he sat taller than most of the other players at the table. With mahogany hair and patrician features, he epitomized the type of gentleman ladies found attractive.

Tristan continued to study him. “Do you think she’d be interested in him?”

“The ladies seem to like him. He doesn’t appear at many events, but when he does, there’s always a flock of tittering females nearby, peeking at him from behind their fans.”