Page 55 of Yours Truly, the Duke
“I’m ready to leave whenever the two of you are.” Not waiting for an answer, Rick finished off his drink and rose from his chair.
Wyatt hesitated as he continued to hear the children moving around abovestairs. He didn’t know why the noise bothered Hurst and Rick. They boarded at Eton too and it was a hell of a lot noisier there.
Another squeal of delight sounded from above. The little devils needed to go outside and run around. There was no reason for her to keep them huddled around her all the time. They probably hadn’t been out for a good romp since they left Paddleton.
Wyatt stood up and downed the rest of his drink. He had readily and eagerly agreed to adding another competition to their already hectic Season schedule. One competition for three days and out of Town, but as of yet, he hadn’t done much to stop Mrs. Tomkin. Until he could come up with a political favor to offer the Lord Chancellor in exchange for favoring Fredericka over hercousin, Wyatt needed to do something to show Fredericka he was helping her. She was right to remind him of his part of their arrangement. She was depending on him as much as the club and its members. If one afternoon ride in the park would make her happy, he’d do it. He was certain the children would love it.
“You two go ahead and I’ll catch up with you in a couple of hours. I have some things I want to take care of around here.”
“Good luck having the fortitude to do it,” Rick grumbled, rubbing his temples with the pads of his fingers as more shrieks rent the air. “I find the intermittent noise is distracting. I couldn’t concentrate on a damn thing for wondering when the next squeal would come.”
Wyatt laughed. “That’s only because you swam in the deep end of a bottle of brandy last night.”
“Too true.”
“He’ll feel better after he’s eaten,” Hurst said. “What do you want to do about next Thursday?”
Wyatt looked at Hurst, not immediately bringing to mind what he was referring to. “Concerning what?”
Hurst gave Rick a knowing grin and chuckled low under his breath. “Just our every Thursday afternoon card game. It’s your week to host the club.”
“You know,” Rick added with a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “Twelve men at three card tables in the drawing room swearing, drinking, and occasionally arguing. Cribs continuously puffing his pipe, Woolsey lighting one stinking cheroot after the other, and Robertson’s ribald humor. You buy only the highest-quality tobacco and cheroots for their smokes. Remember any of that?”
The children and the sometimes-rowdy men from his card club in the same house?
“Oh, damn.”
CHAPTER 15
THE VIOLET
—MISS LANDON
Ah! who is there but would be fain
To be a child once more,
If future years could bring again
All that they brought before?
A comfortable coolness had settled into the sunny spring air and the sky was a fair shade of blue. The winds had eased and the sun beamed down bright and warm. As usual, the Season had brought more people to London and mild weather had caused most of them to crowd into Hyde Park for the afternoon. Wyatt’s driver maneuvered the horses onto Rotten Row and in line behind a brand-new lacquered barouche with a fancy liveried postillion standing on the side of the carriage.
The sight reminded Wyatt that he still hadn’t put in an order for a new coach for Fredericka. Every time he thought about doing it there was always a reason he didn’t have the time.
The park was busy with activity. Couples strolled arm in arm while gazing into each other’s eyes as they chatted. A few people walked with a striding purpose, as if in a hurry, while others had spread a blanket on the ground and were enjoying refreshments and conversation. There werealso plenty of park goers in carriages and on horseback and the usual array of milk and vegetable carts on their way to make deliveries.
It was a good afternoon for a ride down Rotten Row with Fredericka. There were the usual members of the ton out for their daily jaunt to see and be seen by others. Wyatt was constantly nodding and tipping his hat to those he knew as they passed. Fredericka seemed to be enjoying herself, looking around, waving when he would acknowledge someone with the tip of his hat. He’d enjoyed introducing her as his duchess when they stopped to say hello to Lord and Lady Windham and later to Mr. Christopher Belhart and his wife. The introductions seemed to please Fredericka too. At last, he was doing something she approved of.
It would have been a perfect outing if not for the glum expressions on the children’s faces.
Elise, Charles, and Bella should have been chatting nonstop as the open landau clipped along through the park, but they hadn’t said a word. Wyatt expected them to be pointing and squeaking with oohs and aahs at the magnificent pair of white horses with the fancy riggings they passed, or encouraging the driver to move closer to the shiny black carriage with an intricately designed crest that was just ahead of them. They hadn’t cracked a smile to the gray-bearded man on horseback who tipped his hat and nodded as he passed, nor to the gentleman who looked as if he was almost being dragged behind four Irish wolfhounds.
Not one of them took note when Wyatt pointed to the brightly colored kite that sailed on the wind high in the sky. Wyatt didn’t know what it would take to gain the three’s attention.
Stuck between his sisters, with their wide-brimmedstraw bonnets, Charles should have been elbowing and shoulder-bumping both of them while grunting, smirking, and squirming like a snake slithering through a garden. Wyatt would have never believed a seven-year-old boy could be so still. It wasn’t natural.
Girls were supposed to fuss with the bows on their skirts or buttons on their gloves. They should have been constantly jumping up and down, squealing with delight at the sight of someone selling sweet cakes, or begging the driver to stop at a puppet stand so they could watch. And they should have been doing all this while stepping on the toes of his highly-polished boots every time they stood up.
