Page 61 of A Match Made On Duchess Square

“And you, Agatha?” he asked her companion out of politeness.

“Oh, the best ever. I’ve never had finer quarters, my lord.”

“Good.” He helped them both into his carriage and climbed in after them. “Let’s hope the house is still standing upon our return,” he jested. “I’m not sure Harting or Mrs. Harting can keep up with my boys.”

“It isn’t too late to take them with us,” Gwen suggested.

He shook his head. “We have too much to do, and the boys will be bored to distraction while dragged from shop to shop. We’ll be back well before nightfall.”

They spent the rest of the ride to Brighton organizing the stops they were to make.

“Invitations first,” Gwendolyn stated. “The stationer’s is not far from your uncle’s bakery shop, Agatha. We can make his shop our second stop because he is on Duchess Fiona’s list of trusted merchants.”

Agatha nodded enthusiastically and turned to Milbury. “Oh, he’ll be pleased to have your business, my lord. Rest assured, I shall put in a good word for you.”

“That is much appreciated,” he said, tossing Gwendolyn a grin.

As it turned out, one of Agatha’s cousins happened to be walking along the street when their carriage drew up in front of the stationery shop. Milbury insisted Agatha go off with her cousin, and they arranged to pick her up at the bakery at three o’clock in the afternoon.

Gwendolyn was relieved to be alone with Milbury…James.

She really ought to call him James now. It felt right to do so. Why did she continue to resist? Even in her own mind, her brain would seesaw between thinking of him as Milbury or more intimately, by his given name.

James.

It was a nice name. One that evoked quiet strength.

They did not take long to select the perfect invitation cards and place a rush on the order in the hope they would be ready by tomorrow or the day after at the latest.

She wanted those invitations sent off so there would be no question he was to hold his house party. She needed this party to happen, even though he had made his choice in a wife.

Her.

But she had to have more time to think about the change this would make in her life, a massive and unexpected change that had her completely upended.

A small, thin man who appeared to be the proprietor scurried toward them as they entered the stationery shop. “May I help you, my lord?”

Milbury had come to Brighton dressed impeccably and looking every inch the powerful marquess. He carried himself with an understated elegance that spoke of his wealth and noble rank. The proprietor was not going to hesitate in catering to his every whim.

Of course, he would also demand a heightened price.

Gwendolyn had also tried to look her prettiest for this excursion, donning a russet silk that added a copper luster to her hair and brought out the bluish-green of her eyes.

The proprietor, a man by the name of Mr. Digby, bowed and scraped and flattered them to the point of embarrassment while she and James looked through the sample books he set before them.

“Excellent. Excellent, my lord,” the man said, continuing to smile obsequiously and bow as they finished looking through all the letterhead styles and placed their order. “I’ll have those invitations done for you by tomorrow before closing time.”

“Lady Gwendolyn and I will pick them up on the morning after.”

They moved on to the baker’s, where they saw Agatha helping out behind her uncle’s counter. “I was only waiting for you to arrive, m’lady. I’ll head off with my cousins after you’ve placed your order.”

Since Fiona had written detailed suggestions, they did not take long in making their dessert selections for every day of the house party. Of course, Milbury’s cook and her staff were going to prepare most of the food themselves, including the sweet and savory pies. The more intricate evening desserts were to be left to Agatha’s uncle, who was pleased for the business and looked forward to making the daily deliveries.

Gwendolyn realized she was taking on the role of lady of the house by planning these daily menus, and Milbury seemed to be going along with all her suggestions.

In truth, planning the menus felt natural to her. She was no stranger to London parties, including the popular al fresco affairs held during the summer months. The fare at these country house parties could not be much different, but she did take her time and listened to the merchants respond to her questions because she wanted the meals to reflect the popular dishes of the area and treat the party guests to something delicious they might not have experienced before.

They next stopped at the butcher’s to view his selection of meats and game fowl. Then on to the grocer’s, although neither she nor Milbury knew how to select the best fruits or vegetables. Of course, ensuring they received the best and freshest would be left to Milbury’s cook and her assistants, who would inspect everything delivered daily to Milbury Hill.