Warmth bloomed in Lucy’s chest. Her heart felt full, near to bursting, and she fought back the sting of tears.
“All right, you speak to Papa first. But then we’ll face him together. I want us to always face our challenges together.”
He smiled the smile that had captured her when they’d first met. “Me too.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
James had been at more gentlemen’s clubs in the past two days than he had in the past two years. Most of the businessmen he’d dealt with preferred talking business in offices or at formal dinners in their homes. But he knew that noblemen tended to prefer to hobnob at these lush places of leisure, and Lucy said Lord Hallston spent most mornings at his club.
He was relieved she’d agreed to let him speak to her father first. She’d done enough. He suspected her helpful nature meant she’d spent her life trying to smooth the way for others. He wanted to be the one to do the same for her.
Seeing as Lord Hallston was a diplomat, James thought it a good bet the man belonged to the famous Travellers Club in Pall Mall.
He arrived in the neighborhood at eight, knowing the earl might not arrive for hours, but it gave him time to traverse Green Park and wander St. James’s Park. He circled back every so often, seeing gentlemen being delivered to the club or approaching by foot, but none of them looked like the man Jameshad seen in newspaper coverage of the waterworks project Hallston had supported.
The doorman at the club gave him a stern perusal on one of his turns around the block. He was certain he looked like exactly what he was—a man who didn’t quite belong in Pall Mall, title or not. He half expected an “Oy, what are you doing lurking there?” same as he’d gotten from Lucy’s brother the previous night.
On the verge of heading back for another walk through St. James’s Park, he heard a man’s boisterous laughter and turned back. Two men stood conversing on the pavement just outside the club. He couldn’t see either of them well. One stood with his back to him, blocking his view of the other. Yet some inner sense told him that one of them was Hallston.
He approached at a quick pace, worried they’d go inside where he wouldn’t be admitted.
“Lord Hallston,” he said convivially as he approached. If he was wrong, they’d just ignore him.
But the taller of the two men turned, and James knew he’d found Lucy’s father. His hair was dark, but his eyes were the same shade of jade green.
“Lord Rossbury, my lord.” Might as well throw his title around when it mattered most. “We haven’t been introduced.” James stuck out his hand the way he would when meeting a business colleague. He hoped that worked as well for aristocrats.
“I have met a Lord Rossbury. But I suspect that was your father.”
“My uncle.” James had no notion how close the two might have been. Not very, he suspected, but he didn’t want to risk being indelicate. “I inherited quite recently.”
“My condolences.”
The man who Hallston had been talking to leaned in. “If you’ll be a while, I’ll see you inside, Hallston.”
Lucy’s father nodded to the man, then turned back to James.
“Shall we go in, Lord Rossbury?”
James hesitated. Presumably, if Hallston had a membership and wanted to bring a guest inside, no one would blink an eye.
“I hadn’t seen your uncle at the club in years. But perhaps you’ll make more use of the membership.”
Did memberships pass with the inheritance of a title? James wasn’t sure they did, and he couldn’t imagine his uncle could have afforded club memberships if he was reduced to living in a gatehouse during his last days.
“It’s warmer inside,” Hallston vowed as a further inducement.
“Of course.” James joined the man and headed inside the Pall Mall club.
“Hallston and Rossbury,” Lucy’s father told the doorman, who merely nodded genially.
Well, that worked out well. Though James wasn’t ready to count anything a victory yet. Hallston still had no idea why he’d approached him.
“I like this spot.” Hallston pointed to two well-wornleather chairs near a fireplace and a table filled with sporting magazines and books.
James said nothing but claimed the seat Hallston didn’t.
“Port? Brandy?”
