Chapter 2 #2
“Certainly.” The man before him was not what he’d expected when Eli had decided to journey to Derbyshire.
Lord Cartwright could not be more than three years his senior.
He was neither stodgy, nor elderly, but appeared the proper gentleman.
The correspondence between Melville and Lord Cartwright had dated back over seven years—the man must have still been at University at the time.
Elijah followed Lord Cartwright into the foyer as a footman rushed past him to help Mathers unload his trunk.
Eli spotted Miss Samantha as she rounded a corner at the top of the stairs and disappeared…
his ease with her. It was a burden he’d lived with since leaving America.
The sense of being alone even when surrounded by others.
For those brief moments in the coach, he hadn’t felt that way.
Lord Cartwright chuckled, obviously noticing Eli’s distraction. “Thank you for bringing her back safely. I fear the woman would have been stranded in the storm long past nightfall if you hadn’t happened upon her.”
“Her sudden appearance was a surprise as I hadn’t seen another soul since passing through Derby earlier in the day.”
“Yes, this part of the shire is rather remote and rustic; however, when Cummings offered his impressive gardens with ample space for guests for the nuptials, I could not turn him down.” Cartwright glanced about the foyer. “His family has taken rather magnificent care of Hollybrooke Manor.”
Eli couldn’t disagree. The floors were polished until they shone, and the stair railing could be used as a looking glass—it reflected the many candles from above, making the area glow brighter than a windowless room should.
Deep voices could be heard down the corridor, and the sound of female laughter sounded from another direction.
It had been years since he’d attended a gathering this large—and by society standards, this hardly counted as anything more than an intimate gathering.
Mathers and a footman entered, carrying Eli’s trunk as they moved toward the staircase.
“Ah, yes, Lord Ridgefeld.” Cartwright took in his disheveled state. “I am certain you wish to change and remove the travel dust from your person. The butler will show you to your room. Please send word if you are in need of anything.”
The rain had removed most of the dirt from his clothing, but his linen shirt still clung to him damply—his neckcloth altogether forgotten where it hung limply at his neck. “Thank you, my lord. I look forward to meeting your intended and Lord Cummings when I am properly attired.”
“Dinner will be served in an hour’s time. You are welcome to join us or take your meal in your room.”
“And do call me Elijah—or Eli.” He smiled, realizing he rather liked Cartwright and saw why his grandfather had taken so well to him. “I am still hard-pressed to recognize Ridgefeld as me, it was always my grandfather.”
Cartwright set his hand on Elijah’s shoulder, a rare moment of intimacy over a shared loss.
“Melly was a great man, an inspiration—and a proud grandfather. You may not know this,” he lowered his voice as if to impart a secret.
“He sent me many letters over the years when you and he were traveling—from Africa, Scotland, and even India.”
He’d known the marquis had spent many late nights writing, but Eli had always assumed he wrote of their exploration and discoveries in his journal. Maybe he did not know his grandfather as well as he’d assumed.
“My grandfather was a man entrenched in adventure—seeking a new journey at every turn,” Eli said.
He’d come here to take his mind off his loss, not to spend time wallowing.
Though he welcomed meeting another who obviously missed the marquis, as well.
“It is only right his treasured finds be appreciated by all.”
“Lord Cummings and I are very grateful for your consideration of the British Museum to house his collection—“
“I know there is nothing of great worth, but it is everything he worked his entire life to discover. If even one person—or child—is inspired to seek out their own adventure because of my grandfather’s passion, then his life will hold meaning for many years to come.
” Eli was uncertain why he’d shared so much with Cartwright.
He cleared his throat before continuing, “Either way, I am not entertaining any other museums. My grandfather trusted your counsel with antiquities, and I intend to do the same.”
“We appreciate that, Elijah.” A bell sounded deep within the house. “It seems time has passed quicker than I expected. That is the dinner bell. I understand your need to wash up. I will have a meal brought to your room.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
“Let us dispel with the formalities. This is a quiet country gathering—truly, not much more than family and a few close friends. Call me Cart.”
A friend? Lord Cartwright saw him, Elijah Watson, as a friend—and he couldn’t help but like the man more. “Thank you again for the invitation.”
“The men will congregate in the study for drinks after the meal.” Cart turned toward the sound of the other guests moving toward the dining room. “Please join us if you are feeling rested enough. If I do not see you this evening, do have a pleasant night.”
Elijah nodded and headed toward the stairs, following the butler to his assigned bedchamber.
During his long carriage ride, Eli had looked forward to arriving at Hollybrooke and seeking his chambers to await his meeting with Cartwright and Cummings—completing his business and departing soon after the wedding ceremony.
To his amazement, he found himself hurrying up the stairs, delighted with the prospect of an evening in the company of Lord Cartwright—a kind friend—and his guests.