13. A Ride in the Park Puts a Plan in Motion

Meanwhile, at the Cumberland Gate, northeast corner of Hyde Park off Oxford Street

His chronometer not yet showing ten o'clock, Alfred was relieved when the Weston town coach reached the end of Oxford Street. There it turned into St. George's Row, and next to the Cumberland Gate entrance, one of his grooms stood holding the reins of his Irish walker as well as another horse from the Weston stable.

More importantly, at least from his perspective, was the horse and rider approaching the same gate from the south in Park Lane.

Wearing a bright blue riding habit and a hat adorned with a short peacock feather, Lady Violet had her mount in a trot that was neither hurried nor slow. When a smile appeared to brighten her face, he realized it was because she had spotted his coach.

The oddest sensation had him anxious to greet her as he exchanged his top coat with a riding jacket. To alleviate the need to return to Weston Hall to change his clothes, he had worn riding breeches and a pair of Hessians to his appointment. He pulled on his shorter top hat and bounded from the coach when the driver opened the door.

"Lady Violet!" Alfred called out, giving her an exaggerated bow before he hurried to mount his gray walker. He took the reins from the groom. "Your timing is impeccable."

Violet slowed her walker until it was abreast of his and then pulled back on the reins. "As is yours, Your Grace. What a beautiful horse you have."

Alfred felt a moment of pride. He had spotted the mare at an auction at Tattersall's several years earlier and paid what his father claimed was far too much for the three-year-old. The walker was fully broken, though, and an easy ride. "This is Mouse," he said by way of introduction. He gave the walker a gentle kick, and she made her way toward the gate. At the same moment, Violet urged her mount into motion, and the two horses passed beneath the gate.

Giggling, Violet said, "Because of the color of her coat?"

"Because she is as quiet as a mouse," he replied. "She never complains. At least, she hasn't in my company." He nodded to her walker. "And who have we here?"

Leaning forward to smooth a kid leather-gloved hand along her bay-colored mount's neck, Violet turned her attention entirely on the horse and said, "George, may I have the honor of introducing you to His Grace, Duke of Weston?"

Alfred chuckled. "I was afraid you were going to say his name was Thunder or Lightning or Zeus or Aries," he replied, his brows waggling.

"I think those names were already taken by the other horses in my father's stable," she said with a grin. She sighed contentedly. "We could not have asked for fairer weather today."

Alfred dared a glance up and around them. "Agreed. When I saw the rain this morning, I feared we would have to cancel our plans." He looked behind them to discover her groom riding at a respectable distance.

"Let's hope it stays this nice for tonight's ball," she commented. "My aunt claims it will be a crush, so I expect many will wish to escape the ballroom to the gardens."

He chuckled softly. "My mother said the same thing this morning," he claimed. Although it had taken a few minutes to become reaccustomed to his horse, he was glad when he felt comfortable enough to simply let the horse set the pace and follow the crushed granite path that led straight west. "I think all the duchesses must discuss these things during some secret meetings."

"Over tea, I'm sure," Violet said. "In their parlors."

"With cakes and biscuits," he murmured. "Or scones with clotted cream."

She tittered. "Oh, dear. You sound as if you haven't had your breakfast yet this morning," she said, concern sounding in her voice.

"You have the right of it," he said, surprised she would notice. His mother always seemed to know, as if he went about with a sign on his chest with the words, haven't yet had breakfast painted on it.

"Would you like an apple?" Violet held out the round fruit in his direction. "I'm not sure how good it is, given it's from last September's harvest."

He leaned over and took it. "You're a lifesaver, my lady. Thank you. How is it you...?"

She patted the pocket of her riding habit, where a slight bulge indicated there was at least one other apple. "George has come to expect a treat at the end of a ride," she explained. "It's always best to bring two."

Glancing back, he was almost disappointed to discover her groom still followed them. He absently rubbed the apple on his thigh before he took a bite. "I'm hoping my groom saw fit to bring something for Mouse. I came here straight from my solicitor's office, and I fear the last thing I would have thought to bring was a treat for Mouse." He took another bite of the apple and chewed, sure Violet was watching him.

For a moment, he wondered if she found his form acceptable. He hadn't ridden in over a year, but he was sure he was seated properly. Mouse seemed fine with how he casually held the reins in one gloved hand.

Perhaps she enjoyed seeing his profile—a nose reminiscent of Ancient Romans on a face featuring high cheekbones, a wide forehead, and a square jaw.

He couldn't claim he had inherited any of his appearance from his father, but the cheekbones and eyes were definitely from his mother.

Did she find him handsome? He was almost tempted to ask. Before these past few days, he hadn't given his appearance a second thought. His valet shaved him every morning and took a scissors to his hair once a month. He saw to the maintenance of his clothes. Chose conservative waistcoats for the day and more elaborate ones for the evening. As far as Alfred knew, his valet was doing his best to ensure he cut a fine figure without looking like a dandy.

"I trust your appointment went well?"

Pulled from his brief reverie, Alfred chuckled. "As well as can be expected, I suppose. It was with my father's solicitor. He has simply continued in his duties since his death, which has worked well for me. Thought it best I meet him in person, though." She gasped, and he turned to regard her with a questioning glance.

"You hadn't met him before this morning?" she asked in disbelief.

He shrugged. "I've exchanged a number of letters with him, of course, but when I discovered how close his office is to Park Lane, I thought it would be quicker to simply speak with him. I needed to ensure my sister's dowry has been arranged, which it has." At hearing her sudden intake of breath, he glanced over at her. "She doesn't now, but it's possible she'll have a suitor this Season."

"Oh, of course," Violet responded. "Was your solicitor what you expected?"

Alfred shrugged. "I suppose. Perhaps younger than I thought," he admitted, remembering how he had assumed Andrew Barton, Esquire, would be gray, balding, fat, and at least fifty years of age. He was none of those. "His father had been seeing to the dukedom's affairs since before my father inherited," Alfred continued. "And now the son has simply taken up the reins and continues to run the office."

"I should think continuity is important in the affairs of a dukedom," she remarked.

Coming upon an intersection, Alfred directed his horse to take a path that led to the southeast. "Agreed," he commented, once their mounts were one again abreast of one another. "I might be doing things a bit differently from my father, but I've kept the same foremen. The same solicitor."

"The same man of business?" she prompted.

He made a groaning sound in his throat and wasn't surprised when she regarded him with curiosity. "My father never employed one. After these past six months, I've come to realize why it is I always seem to have so much to do when he did not."

Her blonde brows furrowed. "Are you saying he wasn't doing everything required? To run the dukedom?"

Although he was impressed with her conclusion, Alfred winced. "Something like that. I've hired a secretary to see to the letter writing. That should help. I've finally caught up the ledgers. That took..." He audibly sighed. "Well, far longer than it should have."

"Were they not being done, either?"

He hesitated to respond. "I think my father might have been more ill than he let on at the end. Mother always said he thought he would live forever, but even when his mortality was staring at him in the face, he wouldn't allow anyone else to touch the books."

"I'm so sorry," she replied. "And here I thought it rather odd that my father would already have my brother looking after his affairs. Learning everything he needs to know to run a marquessate."

The reference to a marquessate had Alfred giving a start. For some reason, he had assumed Violet was merely the daughter of an earl or viscount. "Your father is obviously a very wise man," he remarked. He turned to stare at her. "Is he here? In London?"

Violet grinned. "He arrived yesterday afternoon from our country house in Shropshire," she replied. "My Aunt Katherine has already ensured invitations are being delivered to the house, although I think Father would be happy to skip most of the entertainments."

"Your aunt... she is the Duchess of Pendleton, is she not?"

"Indeed," Violet replied. "She was the Duchess of Whyte—a long time ago—but I think she likes Pendleton far more than she did Whyte." Her eyes rounded. "And she enjoys living near Bath better than living in London, but you didn't hear that from me," she quickly added.

Alfred chuckled, angling his horse to follow a path that led back toward the Cumberland Gate. "I had the impression she was enjoying herself at the soirée the other night."

"Oh, she was. She loves playing cards. In fact, we were at a card party last night that seemed to go on for hours. I didn't realize so many women in the ton like to play card games."

"Cards?" he repeated. "Do they play for... for blunt?"

Violet giggled. "She did place wagers on most of the hands, and she did win," she admitted. "Far more than she bet."

"And you?"

Her eyes rounding, Violet shook her head. "Oh, no. I merely play for the fun of it. Whist, mostly."

"Ah," he replied, relieved to hear she wasn't a gambler.

"I hate to bring this up," she said. "But... should we mayhap hurry the horses along? You said you could only afford a half-hour, and I'm quite sure it's been at least that since we started."

Alfred struggled to hide his disappointment at hearing her words. Was she trying to end their ride early? Or was she merely reminding him of his own words from the night at the soirée? "It's fine, my lady. You were right, you must know."

Violet turned to stare at him. "Right about what, Your Grace?"

"The good it would do me to get some fresh air," he replied, pulling his chronometer from his waistcoat pocket. "It's not even half-past eleven o'clock."

Her eyes widening, Violet said, "Oh, my. We've been here in the park for over an hour!"

"Indeed. And I have enjoyed every moment of it," he said. When he noted she displayed a look of consternation, his good mood faltered. "What... what is it?"

Rolling her eyes, Violet said, "Your sister is due to pay a call on me at any moment. I do hope she doesn't mind waiting."

Relieved to hear the reason for her concern, Alfred chuckled. "Will you be telling her why you're late?"

"Would you prefer I didn't?"

He thought about her query for a time before saying, "If you tell her, I'll be sure to suffer a round of teasing when I return to Weston Hall," he said. "If you do not, then I will be left in peace to accomplish what I must before I can leave for the ball this evening."

"Then I shall not tell her," Violet said with a smirk.

Alfred felt a twinge in his chest, and his breath caught. "You would keep this secret betwixt the two of us?"

She blinked. "If you wish me to, of course. It will be our secret."

He glanced back, not surprised to see the groom still following them.

"What is it?" she asked, looking behind her.

He shrugged. "Just ensuring we hadn't lost him, is all," he said, arching a brow.

For a moment, he considered offering the groom a coin in exchange for him to ignore what he wanted to do, but the reminder of the ball had him reconsidering.

He wanted to steal a kiss, but there might be a better opportunity to do so later that night.

"Do have good day, Your Grace, and thank you for joining me today," Violet said when they were back at the Cumberland Gate.

"I will have a good day because of this ride with you, my lady. And don't forget... you promised me a dance."

"I shall save two for you, Your Grace," Violet said, dipping her head in his direction. She grinned before she aimed her horse in the direction of Park Lane and set off at a run, the groom right behind her.

Before he dismounted, Alfred watched her go until she was out of sight. Rather pleased by what he had to look forward to that evening, he bounded into the coach and sat back with a sigh of satisfaction.