14. A Return to England

CHAPTER 14

A RETURN TO ENGLAND

F our days later, London docks, Wapping, England

With a mix of excitement and dread, Donald arranged for a porter to load his luggage, a single trunk, and the bolts of fabric into a hackney. After he gave the driver his destination, the equipage set off for his grandfather’s house in Park Lane. Given his abrupt departure from Sicily, Donald hadn’t sent word ahead of his return to England.

Neither William Slater, Marquess of Devonville, nor his second marchioness, Cherice, were in residence at Devonville House when the hackney pulled up in front of the mansion. Located near the northeast corner of Hyde Park, it was one of the few residences along Park Lane that faced east, which meant its back gardens were practically in the park.

Expecting Hatfield to open the door—the ancient butler had been Devonville House’s butler since before his aunt Hannah had moved out—Donald was surprised when a butler he did not recognize appeared and regarded him with an expression of curiosity.

“Is it Hatfield’s day off?” Donald asked.

The servant stepped aside. “Mr. Hatfield has been pensioned, sir. I am Rosensburg. At your service.”

“Oh,” Donald replied, realizing it shouldn’t be a surprise the old butler was no longer working. “Donald Slater,” he said by way of introduction. “The marquess is my grandfather. I’ve uh... I’ve just returned?—”

“From your Grand Tour,” Rosenburg finished for him. “You were expected some time ago,” he added, motioning for two footmen to bring in the luggage.

“I’ve been aboard a ship for the past fortnight, so I couldn’t send word ahead, of course,” he replied.

“The marquess and marchioness will be relieved to learn of your arrival when they return from Lady Morganfield’s garden party.”

“That’s today ?” Donald asked in surprise. Although he had only ever attended the popular early spring event one other time in his life, he remembered it fondly. He had been too young to flirt with any of the young ladies, but he had enjoyed watching the young bucks in attendance make fools of themselves.

“Should I have his lordship’s phaeton brought ’round?” the butler asked. “I’m quite sure Lady Morganfield wouldn’t mind an additional young man amongst the guests.”

Remembering he had four bolts of fabric as well as a message from her sister and brother to deliver to Lady Morganfield, Donald nodded. “That would be capital. I should change clothes, though,” he said.

“I’ll show you to your room. You may discover a top coat and waistcoat in the dressing room you left behind the last time you were in residence,” Rosenburg offered. “They have both been brushed.”

“I appreciate that. Has much changed in men’s fashion in the past two years?” Donald asked, not having thought of making an appointment with a tailor whilst he was in London.

“The hems of top coats have dropped another inch or so, but I rather doubt anyone will notice, sir.”

Donald chuckled. “Good to know. I’m sure I’ll learn more at the garden party.”

After taking the time to wash his face and change his clothes, Donald searched his valise for the envelope Lady Armenia had given him.

He regarded the feminine script and winced. Reminders of Nicoletta would plague him for a long time, he considered. If Captain St. John was right in his assessment of the situation, then he should expect to hear word from Nicoletta of her marriage and pregnancy within a few weeks. She had promised to write if he did so.

At first, Donald had decided he wouldn’t, but after his conversation with the captain, his thoughts of Nicoletta had been far more charitable. As for who he might tell of his relationship with the aristocrat’s daughter and future marchioness, he had already decided he would keep the details secret from his family.

Well, except for his father. He had to tell someone. Besides, he would be the one man who would understand.

With the letter for Lady Morganfield tucked into his waistcoat pocket, he was seated atop his grandfather’s sporty yellow phaeton and heading south in Park Lane a half-hour later.

Four bolts of colorful silk fabric, wrapped in a Dutch cloth, were secured to the seat next to him.