Page 27 of A Foolish Endeavor

“A most excellent collection. Do you come to town often?”

“I make my home here, Your Ladyship, which makes it quite convenient for me to act as chaperone to my niece this Season. I am often invited to the family estate in Surrey, however, and enjoy the country very much. The fresh air and gardens are healthier than in the large city, I feel. Unless I am mistaken, your home is Haverstone in Kent, Lady Gillingham? I have heard much praise of its beauty—especially of your rose garden.”

Dorothea gave a little laugh. “I will admit to taking a great deal of care and pride in my roses, but I confess, I had no idea of their reputation spreading as far as this. I should be delighted to show them to you and your niece in person, should you ever find yourself in Kent, Mrs. Steele.” The expression of surprised delight on the woman’s face clearly showed that the generous offer had found favor. Dorothea turned to Miss Wells. “Miss Wells, are you enjoying the Season thus far?”

“Oh, yes, Lady Gillingham, I am quite fond of dancing and have been flattered to be asked by many handsome gentlemen. Your brother is quite nimble.”

Gilbert bowed his head to accept the compliment. “You are too kind, Miss Wells. Any gentleman would look well standing up with you. Since my dancing has pleased you, however, may I request a set—or two—for the upcoming ball at Lady Denton’s?” He nearly held his breath awaiting her reply.

“I should also wish to request a set, Miss Wells, if I am not being too forward,” a familiar voice said.

The group turned to see Charles Kirkpatrick, dressed, as always, with utmost care, from his chocolate-brown, napped-wool facecloth tailcoat, to his leather boots. Gilbert could not keep from staring at his cravat—it was the most elegant and elaborate arrangement he had ever seen. He knew he could never duplicate it on his own.

“Good morning, Mr. Kirkpatrick. I did not know you were interested in art,” Diana said.

“Oh, yes, exceedingly so. If you were unaware of that, I can only think it is because we have, sadly, enjoyed too little time in each other’s company, Miss Wells. I assure you there is a great deal about me I might share with you. Perhaps, during our next dance?” As he spoke, Kirkpatrick subtly stepped forward, forcing Gilbert to step back and out of Diana’s primary view.

Gilbert sidestepped around Kirkpatrick to approach Diana from the other side. “Ah, but I was the first to ask, after all, Miss Wells. My dance card is wide open, and I am eager to reserve one or two places for you.”

“Naturally your card is empty, Kendall,” Kirkpatrick said in an amused voice. “I am surprised you stand up as often as you do, being only a second son with no estate to tempt a young lady.” To Diana, he added, “I have the third, fifth and sixth sets open, Miss Wells, and would be honored to escort you to the dance floor for any—or all—of them. I am certain you remember what a fine couple we made at the last assembly.” He laughed. “Finer than with my old school friend here.”

Gilbert clenched his teeth. “We cannot all be born to nobility, as you are, but a gentleman—that is, one who acts as a gentleman should—is always a welcome partner, is that not so, Miss Wells?”

Mrs. Steele quickly spoke up. “Gracious, my dear niece, you have offers aplenty. Best you appease these two at once, lest a brawl break out.” She gave a nervous titter.

Diana smiled coolly and said, “Mr. Kendall, I should very much enjoy dancing the fourth with you, and, Mr. Kirkpatrick, I promise the third to you.”

Kirkpatrick bowed his head briefly in acceptance. “I shall hold the fifth open as well, Miss Wells, for I am certain you will wish for another with me—after the punishment of being with Kendall, that is.” He laughed as if he were just joking, but his eyes were hard.

Fuming, Gilbert was about to speak when Dorothea turned to Kirkpatrick. “Pray, sir, tell me. Are you the son of the Duke Winston Kirkpatrick of Staffordshire? And your mother, Lady Kirkpatrick, her name is Angela, is it not? Am I thinking of the correct person?”

Kirkpatrick’s face blanched, then began to flush scarlet. “My mother’s given name is Helene,” he said tightly.

Dorothea gave a little laugh of apology, and waved a hand airily. “Of course. Do forgive me,” she replied in a voice oozing with charm. “Angela is your father’s companion of choice in town. Pray, excuse my confusion.”

There was an awkward pause, during which Dorothea continued to smile blandly at Kirkpatrick. He appeared as if he would speak, then firmly pressed his lips together, curtly bowed his head. “Until the ball, Miss Wells, Mrs. Steele,” he muttered, and departed.

“Well done, my dear Lady Gillingham,” Mrs. Steele said in a low voice that betrayed her amusement.

“I may have created a bit of a sticky situation with my insult,” replied Dorothea. “It will, no doubt, cost my husband and me an invitation to the Kirkpatrick shooting party this autumn. But, it was quite worth it. His rudeness to my nephew could not go unanswered.”

“Lady Gillingham! What a surprise.” Mrs. Landry called as she approached. “Oh, and what a delight to see you as well, Mr. Kendall, Miss Wells, and Mrs. Steele. What a happy coincidence, for I was planning to come by your homes later today to leave these invitations.” She dug into her reticule and pulled out folded papers sealed with wax, handing one to Mrs. Steele and the others to Dorothea and to Gilbert, who noted his also had Carter’s name upon it.

“You need not open them now, I shall just tell you it is for a dinner party at our home on Tuesday next. There are no balls or other assemblies that night, so I am hopeful you are all available.”

“We shall be delighted, Mrs. Landry,” Mrs. Steele said. “You set a fine table, and we did enjoy ourselves that other evening, did we not, Diana?”

“Oh, yes, aunt.” She turned to Gilbert. “Will you be able to attend, Mr. Kendall? And you, too, Lady Gillingham? I do so wish to become better acquainted with you. Gilbert did not even tell me he was related to you, sly thing. I long to hear more about your estate.”

Realizing she was trapped, all Dorothea could do was smile and say, “Why, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

As Miles was passing through the entry hall of Clayton House, Evan poked his head out of the study and called to him.

“Miles, I wish to speak to you a moment, if you please.” Without waiting for a reply, Evan returned to his desk and sat awaiting his eldest son, who entered presently and took a seat across from his father.

“Yes, Father?” Miles said. “Is this about the Pratt family wanting to change crops? I truly haven’t had a moment to turn my mind to it, if you are wishing for my opinion on the matter.”