Page 45 of Vying for a Viscount
Before Greyson climbed into bed, he poked the logs in the hearth, checked his still-damp clothes, and undressed. Then he fell into bed and into a dead man’s slumber.
Dawn came quickly, and they reached the Pheasant Lane Inn by ten in the morning Greyson already dreaded the return trip. Except he couldn’t wait to return and see Letitia. He’d thought about her almost nonstop during the quiet ride.
The proprietor expected them and escorted them to their rooms. The first thing Greyson did was strip down and wash up with soap and water as best he could to get the stench of the road and Thorne out of his hair and off his skin. He buffed his skin dry with a large linen cloth and dressed in the only other pair of clean clothes he brought, dark-gray riding clothes. He left his dirty clothing along with several coins on a wooden chair for the maid who cleaned the rooms to launder.
Knight, forever the planner, must have sent letters to the three owners who controlled all the mines in Bristol and to their overmen. Six notes awaited him at the inn. All six men agreed to meet tonight at eight in the private salon at the inn.
Greyson was relieved. He thought he and Cooke would be riding all over Bristol today, traveling from mine to mine, hunting down the six men. Now they could have a fine luncheon.
Eight came quickly. Greyson had ordered ale and refreshments for the men and expected them at any time. They trickled in two by two until everyone sat at a long banquet table in the center of the room. Greyson had given extra coin to the inn owner to have the room to themselves.
“Welcome. I’m James Barton, and my associate is Stuart Brown. We’ve come because we’re interested in purchasing mines in Somerset and have a few questions. I hope you, good gentlemen, will indulge us with our many questions as we research the profitability of owning such mines.”
The meeting lasted nearly two hours. Yes, the miners and owners were frustrated with the prices they received for their coal, but neither he nor Cooke sensed any planned rebellion forming. They would spend another day or so investigating before Greyson felt confidentenough to return to London and report their findings to Knight. They needed to be absolutely certain that no rebellion was brewing in Bristol.
Chapter Sixteen
Letitia couldn’t believeit was already Friday. She had expected the past three days to drag on with Greyson gone. She spent most of them with Simon in the nursery and outside in the garden. They even took a carriage ride with his governess.
She almost wanted to stay home today, but she had the Barstow Garden Party to attend and looked forward to seeing Anastasia and Aurora. She had received notes from both Emmeline and Lilly stating they were fine but not up to attending. Indeed, they were probably tired from being with child. Letitia remembered well how tired she had been carrying Simon.
She was dressed in a pretty pale-yellow dress with a matching pelisse, wide-brimmed bonnet, and parasol. The hat and parasol were originally meant to protect her from the sun. Now they would protect her from the rain.
Barstow Estates lay on the outskirts of London and bordered the River Thames. It was unfortunate that the weather was so foul. Letitia knew everyone would make the best of it, though. When she left her townhouse, a footman held an umbrella over her head so she didn’t need to open her parasol or figure out how to enter the carriage while maneuvering it.
When they arrived at the impressive estate, carriages lined the driveway, waiting for their passengers to disembark. It was a slower-than-normal process because of the weather, but eventually it was Letitia’s turn. Her footman opened the door and, once again, held an umbrella over her. She pulled up her skirts and picked her way around the puddles to keep her half boots from getting wet. Normally, she would wear slippers or shoes, but not on a rainy day. She’d be stuck in soaking-wet shoes all day if she had.
When she entered the estate, she handed her hat, parasol, and pelisse to the butler. She greeted her host and hostess on the upstairs landing outside the ballroom, which Letitia could see was decorated like the outdoors. How exciting and festive.
“Lady Barstow,” Letitia curtsied. “I’m pleased to be among your guests today.”
“I hope you enjoy yourself, Lady Rutherford.”
“I’m sure I will.” She curtsied again. “Lord Barstow, I am pleased to see you again.”
“And I you.”
Before she entered the ballroom, she took a few deep breaths. Receiving lines terrified her. She was thankful they hadn’t mentioned Graham. He and Lord Barstow went back to their Eton days. Their eldest daughter was in her second season, and they were, most likely, hosting this party to give her a boost. Their daughter, Lady Samantha, was charming once you got to know her, but her shyness made it difficult to do so. She wished her well and much success in finding a husband.
Having woolgathered, her nerves had settled enough for her to enter the crush already filling the ballroom. Standing off to the side, she glanced around the room, seeking out Anastasia and Aurora, or even Hunter or Lord Warren. After two loops around the room, she finally found the four of them sitting on a quilt on the floor, a large picnic basket between them. Her heart dropped. They didn’t need her joining their little private party. Instead, she wandered around the room, looking for someone, anyone she recognized. Her heart rose atthe sight of Lady Samantha sitting with a young lady she didn’t know. Making her way to them, she hoped they wouldn’t mind if she joined their picnic.
“Lady Samantha,” Letitia said with a smile. “May I join you and your friend?”
“Yes, please,” Lady Samantha said, relief evident on her face.
She sat on the soft quilt, her legs bent and off to one side. After she tucked in her skirts, convinced no ankle or, God forbid, a calf showed, she sighed and looked to the other occupant of the blanket. “Good afternoon, I’m Lady Rutherford, but please call me Letitia.”
The stranger frowned, giving her the impression that she wasn’t a friendly person.
“I’m Lady Rose Templeton.” She raised her head just enough to stick her nose up and look down at her, confirming her unfriendly first impression. “My father is the Duke of Templeton.”
Now Letitia understood the relief on Samantha’s face. “How fortunate for you.” She rearranged herself to face Samantha. “How are you? I haven’t seen you since the Westport ball at the start of the Season.”
“I am well. I twisted my ankle at a soirée and had to miss several weeks of socializing, but I’m all healed.”
“Thank goodness. How painful it must have been.”
“It was.” She frowned. “Mother thought I was feigning, but I wasn’t, honestly.”
