Page 29 of Managing the Major

Tonight was the ball at Almack’s. Certainly she would be there. The coach lurched forward. Had she wanted to kiss him? He thought so, but then, it was Octavia, and she was unpredictable to say the least. Alastair looked out the window as they traveled down Knightsbridge Road, his lips curving. Headstrong, opinionated, passionate, and utterly delightful…he couldn’t wait to see her again.

After another grueling session at Angelo’s, Alastair took the carriage to Boodles, where he met Rafe for luncheon. He was disappointed to find his friend had orders to leave for France first thing in the morning.

“One of the diplomatic corps had the temerity to develop such gout that he’s recovering in the hospital. It shouldn’t be more than a few weeks before I return. But Lord, how can I survive without knowing the outcome of your tête-à-tête with Miss Merrick in the country?”

Alastair shook his head in exasperation. “Do you wonder why you weren’t invited? I can’t imagine why, when you are determined to make more of this than it is.”

“Don’t flummox me, Alastair—you have more than a casual interest in Miss Merrick.”

“Perhaps, but I don’t see where it could go. Neither of us is interested in marriage, and I certainly can’t have a casual affair with the sister of the Earl of Seldon. I doubt he’d even agree to marriage if it came to that.”

“We will see,” Rafe replied.

That evening, Alastair dressed with particular care, donning silk knee breeches with buckled shoes and a black claw-hammer coat. After careful consideration, he settled on a pale-blue waistcoat shot with silver thread and told Carter to indulge himself when tying the cravat.

Satisfied with his final glance in the mirror, Alastair took his top hat and kid gloves from the bureau and, on impulse, left the walking stick where it stood propped in the corner.

The carriage stopped at Pont Street to pick up Nerissa and Abigail.

“How handsome you look, Uncle Alastair,” Abigail remarked, settling next to her mother. “You’ll never guess who came to call this morning.”

By the blush that spread across Nerissa’s cheeks, he certainly could. “Sir William Denton?”

“How did you know?” his niece asked in astonishment.

“A little bird told me.”

Abigail looked confused. “But he just came this morning, and Mama hasn’t seen you since—”

“Shh, dear, it’s quite all right—your uncle is simply teasing me,” Nerissa interrupted, patting her arm. “Yes, Alastair, Sir William visited and stayed for tea. He really is the kindest man and offered to take us for a drive tomorrow afternoon, and I accepted.” She had a martial light in her eyes, as if daring him to say something.

“That will be a pleasant excursion for you both. I also have news—this weekend, I’ll be staying at Fairfax. Miss Merrick and her friend Lady Hope are coming as my guests.” He decided against saying anything about riding again in case the plan went awry.

“What! Why, this is wonderful news…why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

“Because I have not seen you since it was arranged. And Nerissa, please don’t attach special significance to the visit. Miss Merrick is simply coming to appraise my horses, so I might decide what to do with them.”

“Really?” She looked at him speculatively. “I think there’s more to it than that.”

Alastair changed the subject. “Tonight, I intend to seek out the Earl of Seldon. The subject of building my hospital in Whitechapel may come up if our connection seems favorable. At least, I plan to address the need for such services.”

“As a matter of fact, I received a note from Miss Merrick just today,” Nerissa said. “She mentions a Count Von Berger, who has moved here from Switzerland in a diplomatic capacity. Evidently, his son is looking for a match and is eminently suitable for Abigail.”

“Rafe should know of the count from his work at the palace. I’ll see if he has any information about the family.”

The carriage came to a halt. He alighted to help Nerissa down.

“Alastair, have you forgotten your walking stick?”

“I’ve been doing some special exercises with Angelo at the academy to strengthen my leg in addition to walking in the park most mornings. It’s improving.”

Abigail grasped his good arm, and he lifted her down. “That is wonderful news, Uncle Alastair. Have you been working on your arm as well? You’re not clenching your fist anymore.”

He looked down in surprise, just now noticing the palm relaxed and open at his side. “I have been, but the progress is slower.” Still, he entered the building in a buoyant mood.

After handing over his hat and gloves to the footman, Alastair scanned the crowd, looking for Octavia. It was past nine—thank goodness, Nerissa had dispensed with the need to arrive early—and the ballroom was overflowing.

He noticed her dancing with a very handsome young man whom he immediately wanted to throttle and wondered if he could manage it one-handed.