Page 27
She took a long, slow breath, wondering if the day could get any worse, then turned to greet him with a smile, but, before she could speak, Lady Liz rushed past her to clasp Lord Granville by the hand and welcome him, clearly feeling the need to seize the role of hostess now the duke was in the room. Harriet turned away, keeping a tight rein on her emotions, and went to speak to her father.
‘Papa,’ she murmured and kissed his cheek. He smelled dreadfully of dog. He grunted in reply and nodded to the people in the drawing room.
‘Company, I see.’
‘Indeed, much of the family is visiting and I’m sure there will be others to come as the day wears on.’
‘Where’s your brother?’
‘I believe Hart is out with his friends from university. They are no doubt carousing through the clubs and attending Gentleman Jackson’s boxing emporium. Morning calls are no doubt too dry for him these days.’
Her father flicked her an incredulous look. ‘Hart, boxing? I think not.’
Harriet laughed. She couldn’t see it either. Hart was of a gentle disposition, not given to sporting endeavours in the slightest, preferring to concentrate on the state of his wardrobe. Her father huffed a brief laugh with her and they shared a glance, which was nice. She rarely connected with her father.
He sniffed loudly as he looked about the room. ‘Did you hear about his escapades with William?’
Harriet tilted her head towards him, delighted to carry on the conversation. ‘William?’
Her father nodded his head towards her aunt Bessborough. ‘Bess’s boy. Your cousin, William.’
‘Ah, cousin William. I didn’t. Do tell.’
Her father rolled his eyes. ‘Hart and Bess’s boy, at a masquerade in Cambridge, dressed as women. Dresses, silver turbans and feathers, I heard.’
Harriet laughed even though she’d definitely heard of the escapade and taken her brother to task for it. At six feet tall, he’d have looked quite the sight. She’d barely opened her mouth to reply, still enjoying the rare moment of contact with her father, when Lady Liz appeared on her shoulder.
‘Your Grace,’ she gushed, squeezing past her, taking hold of both his hands. ‘I’m so pleased you could join us. Tell me. How are the darling pups?’
Her father’s face brightened, and he launched into a description of the birth and the offspring in somewhat nauseating detail. It was clear Harriet’s moment of his time was well and truly over, so she nodded at them both, tucked her disappointment to one side, as she always did, and turned away, only to bump into Lord Granville Leveson-Gower. She barely stifled a sigh. Clearly, it was going to be one of those days.
She smiled up at him, her social smile, one that she’d heard had teeth. The notion amused her.
‘Lord Granville, how terribly kind of you to join us.’
He gave her a knowing look and bowed over her hand. In all the years since she’d first seen him as a small girl and thrown her heart at his feet, he hadn’t changed a jot. Still tall, slender, outrageously handsome and with those blue eyes her mother called killing eyes. Intelligent eyes that often saw way too much.
He bowed handsomely over her hand. ‘You know I would never miss an opportunity to see you.’
She lifted her chin and gave him a chilly smile. ‘Indeed, you are rarely absent.’
He arched one perfect brow and smiled down at her. ‘Your father is looking well.’
Harriet glanced at him, where Lady Liz was still cooing over the dogs. Lord Granville gave her a penetrating look. ‘Are you wholly averse to dogs?’
The question brought her up short. ‘Beg pardon?’
He smiled at her, not his social smile but a genuine one, and one that was rather too knowing for comfort, and crinkled the skin by his eyes. ‘Are you wholly averse to dogs?’ he repeated with exaggerated patience.
‘Not at all.’
‘You see, what binds Lady Elizabeth to your father is their mutual love of his dogs. She adores his dogs, and he adores her in return. I’m surprised with your wit and intellect you haven’t noted this.’
‘Of course I’ve noted it.’
‘Yet you haven’t imitated it?’
Harriet opened her mouth and shut it. ‘My Lord, you are impertinent. Again.’
