Page 1 of Rescuing Lord Inglewood

Chapter One

March of 1814

Esther Fox attempted to hide her amusement with her companion’s hopeless sighs. The poor girl had thought herself near to being engaged to a gentleman who had hardly been more than polite to her. Esther had never been so hopeful of a match as Miss Linton.

She kept her arm linked with the younger woman’s as they walked past the stately homes of Grosvenor Square, the tall red brick homes guarding the street as soldiers guarded the palace lane. Perhaps when she returned to her stepbrother’s house she would try to paint the scene, but getting the shade of red for the bricks just right might prove a challenge.

“We have all of summer before us to do as we please, and then you may try again,” Esther said, putting as much cheer as possible into her words, but the woman’s forlorn demeanor did not change. “Come now, Miss Linton. You mustn’t let one gentleman’s lack of interest disappoint you so.”

Miss Linton, three years Esther’s junior and certainly less experienced in the ways of the ton, did not appear ready to let go of her tragic manner. Esther did not remember feeling that way at the end of her own first Season, but then, she was hardly a romantic sort.

“He flirted so, and always danced with me twice,” Miss Linton said, directing her eyes to the ground. “I thought he would at least have the decency to make an offer.”

Though uncertain as to how it had fallen to Esther to buoy up Miss Linton’s spirits, she determinedly did her best. Her sister-in-law, Diana, had insisted Esther pay a call to their neighbor. Esther had complied and soon found herself walking—and consoling—a dejected woman she hardly knew.

At least they were both getting some exercise. And perhaps Esther’s reasoning with Miss Linton would help.

“He is rather young himself,” Esther said. “Perhaps he is not ready to give up bachelorhood.” That was the most likely thing, given the gentleman in question was but twenty-one years of age. Gentlemen could afford to wait until they were forty, if they wished it, before even considering marriage. Ladies, on the other hand, were given half a dozen years to make a match before spinsterhood set upon them.

Esther cast about to find something to distract Miss Linton when the girl did not say anything. “Oh, look at the gardens, Miss Linton. Are they not lovely?”

The garden park across the street was well tended, with rolling green lawns and beautiful flowers lining the walk. “Would you like to take a walk there?” she asked, preparing to step in that direction. A few paces behind, their maids paused as well.

“No. The blooms make my nose itch.” Miss Linton’s unfortunate nose twitched at the very idea, it seemed.

What else might be a pleasant distraction? Esther ought to be adept at finding things to occupy the mind. She had done little else for herself the past two years, living with her stepbrother and his wife, Diana, while her natural brother was away at war. If she was not trying to take her mind off of Diana and all her kindly meant demands, she was trying to forget that Isaac faced French soldiers and their bayonets on a daily basis.

Esther put those thoughts away, as hastily as possible, and gave her full attention to her walking companion.

“Would you like to go to Gunter’s this afternoon? My stepbrother will loan us his phaeton and driver, I am certain.”

Miss Linton’s lower lip receded slightly, and her eyebrows drew together. “I do like the orange ice. It is most refreshing.”

“I like the mint tea ices, too.” Esther brightened, pleased Miss Linton shared her weakness for the cold treats. She looked ahead, at number 21 Grosvenor Square, and stopped walking immediately. “Oh, Miss Linton, look. It appears Lady Sparton is redecorating in the Greek style.”

“Dear me.” Miss Linton stared ahead, her mouth dropping open at the spectacle.

There were laborers before number 21, uncrating a very large statue. Ropes dangled from a window two floors above street level as other men put a pulley system into place. The marble statue was nearly life-size, and when the last side of the crate dropped it was plain to see the Greek god Hermes in full motion, with winged sandals and flowing robes.

“My mother says people filling their homes with pagan statues is not at all appropriate,” Miss Linton murmured, sounding scandalized.

“I think it interesting.” Esther watched the men scurry about, more ropes going about the statue while two ropes with hooks were lowered from above. “Emulating an ancient society, while purporting to be modern, is something of a paradox, isn’t it? We dress our hair like Grecian statues, quote their philosophers, and imitate their artwork. And yet . . .”

Esther glanced at Miss Linton and found her staring, her eyebrows drawn down in consternation.

“Never mind, Miss Linton.” Esther offered a soothing smile. “Come, let us go closer so we might watch Hermes rise into the air.”

“Hermes?” the girl asked, looking back to the statue. “Is that someone important?”

Esther refrained from giving an explanation but hurried her friend along the walkway. They stopped perhaps fifteen feet from the statue, just as the men prepared to hoist it from the ground. Rocking forward on her toes, Esther could barely keep hold of her excitement. Others along the walk had stopped as well, further back or across the street, to watch. She studied the different expressions people wore; some appeared as disapproving as Miss Linton’s mother would be, while others seemed amused.

But a spectacle was a spectacle, and people would be speaking of Lady Sparton’s redecoration for days, if not weeks.

Esther’s attention went back to the statue, rising slowly from the ground. It was not the best rendering of the god she had ever seen, in stone form or otherwise. She rather suspected it was soapstone, too, merely painted to resemble granite. Perhaps a cheap copy of a finer piece.

The statue soon lost her interest, so Esther allowed her eyes to travel to the men backing up as they pulled on their ropes. The path beneath the statue remained clear in all directions. People near them were talking animatedly. Though Esther knew few of the people surrounding her, being in the midst of a crowd enjoying the same sight as she gave her a blessed moment of belonging.

She looked upward, studying the pulleys fixed to rods over the house, and then trailed her gaze down the ropes.