Page 9

William stood still, his chin raised while his valet, Geoffrey, straightened his cravat. He was an idiot. That was all there was to it. Not only had he neglected to properly introduce himself to Miss Densley outside the barn, thereby perpetuating her mistaken belief that he was a servant, he was also going to have to make a grand entrance in front of all his mother’s guests because he was late. Not fashionably so. Embarrassingly so.

“That will do, Geoffrey.” The piece of silk may not be placed quite as perfectly as his valet would like, but he had no more time for fussing. “My shoes, if you please.”

Geoffrey reached for William’s shoes, and William attempted to reset his thoughts. He could not go downstairs consumed by the mental image of the two lambs that had just made their appearance in the barn. They would surely have died had Ralph not arrived from the fields in time. It had taken both men working side by side with the exhausted ewe to deliver them safely. The creatures’ first shaky steps had been a moment to celebrate, and William would have preferred to stay in the barn to watch them further, but according to the schedule Thomas had drawn up, it was Ralph’s rotation in the barn. And William was needed elsewhere.

“Will there be anything else, my lord?” Geoffrey asked.

“No. Thank you, Geoffrey. That will be all.”

“Very good, my lord.”

His valet moved away to gather up William’s soiled work clothes, and William’s thoughts flew back to Miss Densley. Had she reached the guestrooms in her tattered and dirty gown without being seen? He smothered a smile. It had been refreshing to be with a young lady who was more interested in newborn lambs and puppies than in the state of her gown. Is that what it was like for his servants when they associated with young ladies who’d been raised in the country? His smile fell. Those few moments of unaffected conversation in the barn were doubtless all he would be allowed. Once Miss Densley realized who he was, he would be fortunate if she deigned speak to him again.

Straightening his shoulders, he opened the door to his bedchamber and started down the passageway. Under normal circumstances, he would be bracing for his mother’s censure at his overdue appearance. This evening, however, he found himself far more worried about Miss Densley’s reaction.

The rumble of male voices interspersed by light female laughter reached him as he approached the drawing room. The door was open, and William took a moment to scan the room before entering. Mr. and Mrs. Fitzroy were talking to his mother and the local minister, Mr. Beeker. All four were white-wigged, but whereas the gentlemen wore jackets and breeches of conservative brown and blue respectively, the women were resplendent. Mrs. Fitzroy wore pale pink with layers of lace. His mother’s turquoise silk gown shimmered in the light coming from a nearby silver candelabra, her skirts even wider than Mrs. Fitzroy’s.

Not far away, Mr. Ryland was in deep conversation with Miss Fitzroy. The botany enthusiast was appropriately dressed in green, and his untamed hair resembled a dandelion gone to seed. He must have been talking to Miss Fitzroy about one of his latest projects on the Broads for some time because the poor young woman wore a slightly glazed expression. Beside the fireplace, Mrs. Marion Densley stood beside Mr. Wellington and Miss Densley. It had been many years since William had seen the older lady. She’d aged but appeared to be in good health.

Sparing the rather pompous and self-assured magistrate, Mr. Wellington, little more than a passing glance, William turned his attention to Miss Densley. Like Miss Fitzroy, Miss Densley had opted to forgo a wig in favor of a light dusting of hair powder. He had caught only a glimpse of her golden hair beneath her bonnet, but now it lay piled upon her head in a mass of ringlets. She had replaced her muddy yellow gown with a pale blue one that accentuated her tiny waist and matched her eyes. As he watched, she raised a hand to emphasize something she was saying, and Mr. Wellington—who had yet to take his eyes off her—laughed.

William looked away. It was time. With a quick tug at the ends of his navy and gold striped waistcoat, he entered the room.

His mother saw him immediately. “Ah, William!” Her voice was welcoming even as she met his eyes with a steely look. “Here you are at last.”

William inclined his head. “Forgive me for keeping you waiting, Mother. There was an emergency.”

“With the sheep, no doubt,” Mr. Fitzroy said.

William ignored the hint of mockery in his tone. “Indeed.”

“A critical time of year for sheep farmers,” Mr. Ryland said. “Although, I will say that when it comes to giving birth, the ewes raised in the wild on the Norfolk Broads are far stronger than those living in farm pastures.”

“So I imagine.” His mother’s swift response barely masked Mrs. Fitzroy’s gasp, and if the deepening color in Miss Fitzroy’s cheeks were any indication, she was as discomforted by Mr. Ryland’s inappropriate remark as was her mother. Unfortunately, it seemed that the gentleman was blissfully unaware of the ladies’ discomposure.

“I would recommend that everyone devote extensive time to studying the local wildlife,” Mr. Ryland continued. “Only then can one truly understand that humans are nothing more than interlopers on the Broads.”

“Yes, well, now that Lord Cheston has joined us, I believe it is time to eat,” his mother said in a valiant effort to redirect the conversation. “Let us all relocate to the dining room.”

A general murmur of approval was quickly followed by movement. William’s mother crossed the short distance between them.

“I certainly hope your emergency warranted being over half an hour late to your own dinner party, William.” There was no mistaking her softly spoken reproof.

“It did.” He refrained from reminding her that this was her dinner party, not his.

“Hm.” Appearing unconvinced, she took his arm and turned him toward the fireplace. “Come. I wish you to meet your dinner partner.”

Meet his dinner partner? Since Mrs. Densley was the guest of honor this evening, William had assumed that he would be escorting her to dinner. But as a longtime friend of his mother’s, she needed no introduction. Indeed, there was only one person in this room whom he had yet to meet. As far as his mother was concerned, at least.

The walking cane his mother carried did nothing to diminish her regal gait as she guided William across the room toward their visitors. William kept his eyes on Mrs. Densley, who offered him a warm smile.

“Marion,” his mother said, “you remember my son, William.”

“Of course.” The older lady curtsied. “It is a pleasure to see you again, Lord Cheston.”

“Likewise, Mrs. Densley. I hope your journey from London went well.”

“Very well, my lord. And already, I am enjoying the invigorating sea air in this beautiful part of the country.”