But they did a good meal, and they had a well-stocked bar, traits he was starting to appreciate. The porter guarding the door was a little surprised to see him, but the man still knew who he was. They had good memories of their members and their offspring.
“I seek a good meal,” Finn said.
“Then I dare say you have come to the right place. It’s a pleasure to see you again, Lord Fortescue. We have missed your father’s presence.”
“Thank you. I look forward to the evening.”
Finn walked inside. The club room hadn’t changed at all. The same wood-paneled walls and roaring fires. There was comfort in the consistency. Finn made his way to the bar and ordered a drink. The room was busy, but not uncomfortably so. A few familiar faces, some looking older than the last time he’d seen them.
“Finley?” a man asked. “Lord Fortescue now, I believe.”
“It is.” Finn considered the man of his father’s generation. Unfortunately, he didn’t recall the man’s name, but he had a vague recollection of him. “My father passed, sadly.”
“Yes, he was a loss. A regular member of the club. It’s a pleasure you’ve joined us tonight. Are you staying for supper?”
“I thought I would. I’m sorry, I don’t recall your name.”
“Sir Michael Trudy.”
“Yes, of course. I do recall you from my few visits here.”
Not everyone in the club was elderly. When he’d visited here as a youth, everyone had seemed old. Now there seemed to be a mix, which probably happened quite naturally as one generation replaced the previous.
“That’s lovely. I take it you’ve just returned to town,” the man said. Another joined them. “Lord Forthill, you’ve made it this evening.”
“Yes, yes,” the man blustered. A thick gray mustache covered his lips and gave him a soft look with the roundness of his face. “An evening away from the house does the constitution good.” The man looked at him as if he tried to place him. “Lord Fortescue,” Sir Trudy filled in.
“Ah, of course. I was sorry to hear of your father’s passing. Good man. A year or so back, wasn’t it?”
“Two years.”
“And how had you been spending your time prior to taking over? Are you an academic?” The question was really if he was one of the louts that sat around and drank themselves silly while waiting for their titles to come their ways. And for a while he had been, but it had grown tiresome.
“Investments. Ports, mainly in Africa.”
“You’ve spent time in Africa?”
“Not considerably. More clever people than me wanted my money more than me.”
“Good thing. Too perilous by far. Fortune seekers the lot of them.”
Finn wasn’t quite so dismissive. The people who built infrastructure in foreign lands were ambitious and clever, and they had to take risks to achieve what they wanted. It allowed the ambitions to make their fortunes by capitalizing on opportunities that weren’t afforded to them back in England. They had the ambition, Finn had the money. Managing his investments had been considerably time-consuming, and he’d had to cut down on the projects he entangled himself with as he’d taken over the management of the estate. At times, he wasn’t convinced it was a good trade.
“You are unmarried, I take it?” Lord Forthill said. “I regret to tell you that my wife will be elated that another bachelor is in town. You will, no doubt, receive invitations to this and that. We have two daughters of marriageable age, and if you would see yourself to taking one of them off my hands, I’d be much obliged.”
“I’m not in the market for a wife at this point,” Finn said. And that was true. Although the concept was growing on him, he wasn’t strictly here to find a wife during the season.
“Yes, understandable. Hold out for as long as you can,” the man said with a chuckle. “Life is so much simpler without a wife.”
No doubt, Finn thought.
Chapter 5
“FOR A MOMENT, I DIDN’T think you would arrive in time. You’re cutting it very fine,” Octavia said, standing with her arms crossed on the top stair outside the townhouse, watching as Julius stepped down from the carriage. “You have a bare two hours until the party.”
“That is a whole two hours before I need to be here,” Julius replied tartly. “How could one possibly argue that I’m late?”
With a huff, Octavia walked inside. The day had been quite cold while she’d been out calling. She even wondered if there would be frost during the night.
“Mrs. Monty, could you be an utter lifesaver and scramble up some tea and biscuits? I’m famished.” He smiled in the way that always pierced any objections she might assert. Julius always charmed the women servants, and they fell over themselves to go above and beyond to fuss over him. Really, he loved women fussing over him. Octavia rolled her eyes.
“What is Cressida expecting from you tonight? Has she sent instructions?”
“No, of course not. Why would she?”
“As her fiancé, I’m sure she has expectations of you.”
“She’ll tell me in due course. Ah, lovely,” Julius said with a bright smile as Mrs. Monty returned with a tray. “You make a wonderful cup of tea.” He accepted a cup when Mrs. Monty poured one for him. Octavia wanted to wave the woman off for pandering to him.
“Have you heard from Caius?”
“No. I’m assuming he’s in town.”
“Yes, he arrived a week or so back. They’re being awfully cagey about what they’re doing.”
“I’m sure they’re doing husband and wife
