“The Earl of Kendall is here,” the second young lady announced, her voice positively breathless.
“Oh, I do hope he’ll be coming to dinner,” the third conjectured, practically squealing.
That’s precisely why Frances had been pacing. She’d sent a note up to Lord Kendall’s room not an hour ago, but she’d yet to hear back. She’d skipped the picnic, somehow managing to convince Mama that she had a megrim. Seeing the three young ladies, obviously she wasn’t the only one who’d skipped the picnic.
She’d defied her mother in sending that note. She was in the wrong, no question, but she’d carefully weighed the arguments for and against speaking to Lord Kendall and had decided she might never have such an opportunity again. Lord Kendall did not often attend the same events she did. She’d made up her mind soon after her encounter with Sir Reginald in the corridor. Besides, what her mother didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. Frances did, however, promise herself that her talk with Lord Kendall would be the only time she broke her promise to her mother.
Frances had been pacing for another reason as well. Sir Reginald had told her he was meeting with Lord Kendall at four o’clock, but she’d failed to ask where. The estate had over a hundred rooms. They could be in any one of them.
She must practice patience. Too bad it had never been her strong suit. Even if she’d been able to find where Sir Reginald and Lord Kendall were meeting, it would hardly be well-mannered of her to barge in on their private conversation.
Frances refused to be put off by the man, however, and Lord Kendall seemed like just the sort of arse who would put her off. Especially if he realized she was a female who wanted to discuss the Employment Bill with him.
She’d taken a chance by signing her note with her initials. He would assume she was male, of course. A man like him would never guess a female would do such a thing. Of course, since she was an unmarried woman, it was inappropriate of her to request a meeting with him alone. But it was important enough to risk being accused of an impropriety. She would not remain in his company long. What she intended to say to him would be brief. She’d practiced it in the looking glass a hundred times during the Season, preparing for the day she might unexpectedly meet Lord Kendall at a ton event. Such an opportunity had never presented itself, but she hadn’t forgotten her speech.
“I heard something about Lord Kendall’s arrival,” Frances replied to the three young ladies, doing her best to seem as if she could not care any less.
The first young lady stopped and stared at her. “You’re not excited?”
“Should I be?” Frances asked, blinking at them innocently.
“Have you seen the Earl of Kendall?” the second young lady asked.
“No, why?” Frances ventured. “Have you?”
The three ladies looked at each other. “Well, no, but the rumors are that he’s extremely handsome and of course he’s highly eligible.”
Frances blinked at them some more. “Is that why you all are making such a fuss?”
All three of them raised their eyebrows simultaneously and looked back and forth at one another with wide eyes as if they could not believe what they were hearing.
“He’s not just supposed to be handsome, Frances. They say he looks like Adonis,” the first one said.
“And he’s not just eligible,” the third lady said, “he’s second only to the Duke of Worthington in eligibility.”
Frances nodded and did her best to pin a believable smile to her face. “Well, then, for your sakes, I do hope he makes it to dinner.”
No use telling them they were excited over a horse’s ass. The ladies giggled and continued chatting and strolling down the path while Frances rolled her eyes. She slipped behind a nearby orange blossom tree to find much-needed solitude.
The three debutantes may have dressed up their news in solicitude, but Frances knew better. They were being disingenuous. She knew as well as they did that she was hardly a debutante who would turn the head of the second most eligible man in the ton. She was passable pretty at best and her dowry was a pittance. Even if the Earl of Kendall wasn’t a horse’s backside, she was hardly planning to compete with the lovely rich girls with whom she’d just spoken to garner his attention. Not to mention Lord Kendall was the last man on earth she’d want to marry. For heaven’s sake. She was more likely to step on his foot than flirt with him.
Besides, the man she had been flirting with recently just happened to look like Adonis as well. No doubt Lucas would make the Earl of Kendall seem like a troll. During the Season, Frances had determined that other young ladies tended to inflate the looks of many of the bachelors based on the size of their pocketbooks and the prestige of their titles.
She’d been told many an eligible gentleman was exceedingly handsome only to see him and wonder what the fuss was about. The only thing she wanted from the Earl of Kendall was a minute or two of his time. Only the longer she went without hearing back from him, the more anxious she became. She had hoped to hear back before he met with Sir Reginald. She’d sneaked from her room, leaving Albina to pretend as if she were still sleeping off her megrim. She’d asked the maid to come find her if a reply arrived from Lord Kendall.
Frances was tempted to sneak down to the servants’ hall to find Lucas. It was a ludicrous notion, but she couldn’t stop herself from wanting to see him again, even sooner than tomorrow morning. The happiest hour of her day was the time she spent with him in the library. At the moment she was a bundle of nerves and
