Regency Society. Ann Lethbridge
on the man’s face. If he could see, he was sure that he would find the servant smirking at the master for coming in with the dawn with a smile on his face and smelling of a woman’s cologne.
He inhaled deeply. Lemons, again. His mouth watered at the thought of her. Or perhaps it was because he had barely eaten. He would have a wash, a shave and a hearty breakfast.
Adrian went to his room and pulled back the curtains, seeing the glow of the rising sun, and felt the first warmth hit his face as his valet came to prepare him for the day.
When Hendricks came to him, several hours later, he swore he could hear the man’s shocked intake of breath at finding him upright and taking eggs and kippers at the little table beside the window.
‘Come in, Hendricks.’ He made a welcoming gesture in the general direction of the door and indicated the chair on the other side of the table. ‘Bring the post and The Times and help yourself to a cup of tea. And try to contain your astonishment. I swear, I heard your jaw drop as you crossed the threshold.’
‘You must admit that it is unusual for me to find you awake, my lord.’
‘I am sober as well. And fully dressed. Of course, what I mean to do with all the extra time, I have no idea. I suspect I have put my valet to a great deal of bother, only to spoil my cravat by napping through the afternoon. But what can be done?’
‘You are in a better mood today, I see.’ His secretary was using his typically mild-mannered voice, but there was a hint of something in it that almost seemed like censure.
‘And what if I am?’
‘It is rare enough to be worthy of comment. The last time I greeted you cheerfully before noon, you threw a bookend at me.’
‘I apologise.’ He had been suffering that day from the headache that sometimes accompanied his troubles. Or, if he was more honest with himself, he had been suffering the after-effects of the gin. In either case, it had been no reason to take it out on Hendricks. ‘If you felt then as I do today, then I had no right to spoil the mood.’ He reached for his tea, and felt Hendricks stay his hand.
‘Excuse me, my lord. It has been incorrectly prepared for you. Someone has put lemon in it this morning.’
Adrian grinned. ‘And two sugars. Tart, and yet very sweet. Just as I requested it. Never mind the post. I doubt there is anything in it that I care about. But if you could read me the news of the day, I would be most grateful.’
The vigour with which Adrian had started the day had faded by noon. He might have stood the fatigue if there had been a way to occupy himself. But with no word from Emily or his mysterious new lover, there was nothing in the mail that required his attention. And although the news was interesting, it gave him the familiar feeling of restlessness to hear it. If he refused his chance to be involved with the making of laws, he had no real need to keep abreast of current events. He soon grew frustrated with the paper and waved his secretary away.
When Hendricks was gone, Adrian roamed his small rooms like a lost soul. He requested an early lunch, which he promptly regretted, for the food lay heavy in his stomach. Then he went back to his bedchamber, and lay down upon the bed, closing his eyes and falling into an uneasy doze.
He dreamed of her, of course. And in those dreams, he could see her and call her by name. When they had lain together, near exhausted from love-making, he had asked her what she wished to be called, if she would not give him her name.
She had laughed and said, ‘Anything you like. Or nothing at all. While I appreciate endearments, I have learned to live without them.’
And it had angered him. For while some women could turn petulant if not given jewels, the woman at his side deserved to be showered with words of love, and yet had been forced to manage with none.
But then she had said, ‘But I do seem to enjoy attention that is physical in nature.’
‘Do you, now?’ He laughed again and moved to touch her, eager to give her what she hinted at. And a name for her had popped easily into his mind. He pushed it away, remembering that though he might imagine what he liked as they made love, he must guard his tongue. She knew too much already about his life and marriage to call her by the name that was always close to his thoughts. It would be an insult to what they shared.
But in his sleep he was loving a woman that was a perfect blend of what he had and what he wanted. Though it should have been the happiest of dreams, and one that he wanted never to end, he could not shake the feeling that the happiness would not last.
And then, at the penultimate moment of his fantasy, there was the sound of something heavy moving in the hall. And of men, grunting under the weight of it, and muffled curses as someone banged an arm or pinched a finger.
Adrian rose and stalked across his room, opening the door with such force that it would have slammed against the wall had it not met with an obstruction. ‘What the devil is going on out here? Do you not realise that I am trying to sleep?’
‘My lord, if you will excuse us, there is a delivery.’ They were trying to manoeuvre something past him, towards the sitting room. ‘We were instructed to place it in the corner, by the window.’
‘Not by me you weren’t,’ he said, and heard the footman take an involuntary step back and the burden bumping against the walls in a way that must have scratched the paper from them.
‘It is from … She said you would not mind.’ There was a tiny stammer at the beginning of the sentence, as though they were unsure how to broach the rest of it.
‘She?’ There could be only one she that would be so motivated. Whatever it was was probably offered as a ‘thank you’ for their extremely active night. He should accept it in the spirit it was given, no matter what it might be. ‘Well, if she insists that it must go in my sitting room, who am I to argue?’ Other than the owner of the room, of course.
‘Very good, my lord. If you would stand back, just for a moment?’ From the sound of his voice, Parker, the footman, was fading under the weight of the thing he carried, but made no move to proceed without his master’s permission. The man had made the mistake, when first he’d arrived, of trying to touch Adrian and move him manually out of the way of a delivery. But he had learned with the sharp rap of a cane on his knuckles to keep his distance and allow my lord his space.
Adrian raised his hands and stepped back to give them room to pass.
There was more grunting, and the sound of the two footmen manoeuvring a piece of furniture, followed by the instructions to a third man to ‘Get the stool as well’.
When things settled down, Adrian folded his arms and demanded, ‘What is it?’
‘A pianoforte, my lord.’
‘A what?’
‘A pianoforte. She said that we might have some difficulty with it, but that it was the smallest one she could find.’
Adrian waved his hands as they began to repeat. ‘Never mind. I heard you the first time. But what the hell am I supposed to do with the thing? The woman must be mad—take it away, immediately.’
‘There is a message, my lord.’ Hendricks spoke from the doorway, for doubtless there was little space left in the room for him.
‘Really. Well, then? Speak.’
‘She said you would likely object to it. And to inform you, when you did, that you needed something to occupy your days, since idle hands are the Devil’s tools.’ Hendricks sounded faintly amused, as he could afford to do, being well out of reach of my lord’s cane.
Adrian glared into the sitting room, then followed in the wake of the servants and the unwanted gift. His lady had been happy enough with the Devil’s tools when he’d