Chapter 18
London, England
Eli sat tall on his mount, surveying the crowded streets as he led the half-dozen wagons behind him, each heavily loaded and packed with extreme care, carrying his grandfather’s most valued treasures.
Decades of memories, travels, and foreign lands all carefully arranged in forty-eight large trunks and several crates.
Twenty-seven hours spread over three days journeying from his estate outside Liverpool all the way to London.
Four broken carriage wheels, and two thrown horseshoes.
Exhaustion infused every inch of his body.
The final day, Eli had escaped the confines of his traveling coach to ride astride. He was glad he had. The city was impressive, vast beyond his childhood recollection. The streets varied between unsavory to well-kept as he moved toward Lord Cartwright’s townhouse.
Nothing could have prepared him for the sight of his country’s greatest city. It rivaled his time in South America and the Mayan ruins, the great Pyramids of Egypt, and the slow-moving rivers through the jungle.
Why had his grandfather kept the majestic nature of their homeland from him?
No doubt remained that Eli had selected the correct museum to house his grandfather’s amassed treasures.
A man walking down the street, keeping close to the storefronts, nodded in Elijah’s direction. He tipped his head in return. He likely appeared as someone far grander than he was as six wagons and his traveling coach followed him through the London streets.
He understood why Sam was so desperate to return to London.
Excitement filled him at the mere thought of her.
They’d known one another for such a brief period of time, yet Eli was hard-pressed to think of a moment spent without her coy smile, fiery hair, and hellion demeanor coming to mind.
He’d fled his home to escape all the memories of his grandfather, but returned with a new ghost shadowing his every moment.
He had viewed his home in a completely different fashion following his trip to Derbyshire.
Suddenly, he no longer favored the masculine presence in every corner of the sprawling estate.
And found himself thinking back to the places of female whimsy that had existed during his early years—the last remnants of his mother.
However, they’d slowly disappeared as his grandfather continued to collect, and his mother’s lilac drawing room was converted to house Grandfather’s pottery assemblage.
Alice Watson’s sewing room gradually turned into a place where the marquis hung his prized sword collection.
In the end, even his mother’s bedchamber—a room that had been floor-to-ceiling pink—had been transformed into a reading room.
The day he and Grandfather had returned from a trip to France and saw his mother’s personal space stripped of every memory of her life had been the day Eli had known she wasn’t coming back—ever.
He’d been twelve and nearly a man, but he’d given in that day and cried…
allowing his anger, despair, and abandonment to surface.
He’d slept for two days after. And promised himself he’d never allow a woman to bring him to tears again.
He’d come close to breaking that long ago promise when he’d sought out his mother in America.
“M’lord,” one of his drivers called. “Mayfair is that way. We be continue’n on ta the museum.”
“Just so, Carter.” Eli smiled over his shoulder.
It had been good to travel with such a large party.
It reminded him of his grandfather and their many excursions.
They’d even spent one night camped under the wagons in a particularly desolate part of Buckinghamshire.
It had rained the entire night, and they’d all awoken sopping wet and cold.
Nevertheless, Eli had enjoyed their trek immensely.
“They will be expecting you. Lord Cartwright and I will be round tomorrow to sort through everything. Please return to Mayfair when you’re done. A hot meal and dry bed await you.”
“Verra kind o’ Lord Cartwright to house us all,” Carter shouted over the noise of carriage wheels and hooves as they journeyed down the cobbled lane. “But I be honest in say’n I canna wait ta return ta Liverpool on the morrow, m’lord.”
Not long ago, Eli would have said the same.
Eli waved as he and his traveling coach turned into Mayfair and the wagons continued on to the British Museum.
A weight lifted from him. He didn’t relish parting with all his grandfather had worked so hard to collect, but he knew the items would be properly cared for and appreciated.
Something that was impossible for one man to accomplish in the middle of Lancashire.
The narrow streets were less crowded, giving Eli a clear view of the roads as he passed—each with grand townhouses on both sides, manicured shrubs, and well-tended drives.
He would certainly need to visit a tailor if he planned to stay longer than a fortnight in town.
He would gain the title of the country bumpkin with only three proper coats.
Though a man only needed so many fine garments when he rarely left the presence of his servants.
Sorting and storing for proper transport had taken more time than Eli had expected, delaying his trip by almost two full weeks. The added time had hopefully given Lord Cartwright and his new bride the opportunity to settle in to town life before Eli arrived and took up their space and time.
He’d sent word to Cartwright, indicating his expected arrival date.
He should have sent word to Miss Samantha about his arrival, as well.
Possibly been so forthright as to request an audience with her or a turn about Hyde Park.
He’d read that women—and men, as well—spent many hours per week in or around London parks or attending the arts at Pall Mall.
The activity appeared cumbersome and time-consuming to him.
It was also possible Sam had forgotten all about him and secured a beau in London.
A gentleman more accustomed to moving within society.
Truly, he wished he’d have remained at Hollybrooke long enough to tell her of his affection for her, but Cartwright had made a valid point…
and Eli hadn’t yet the notion of his tender for the woman.
As many have written, absence makes the heart grow fonder.
And one thing Eli was aware of was his affection and longing for Sam. In fact, he’d never been so certain of anything in his life thus far.
He steered his mount into the Cartwright drive and dismounted as his coach came to a stop behind him.
Mathers, his valet, exited quickly and hurried to the door to announce Elijah’s arrival.
It seemed an overly aristocratic gesture to him, but if he were going to make a sterling impression, society rules need be adhered to.
“Ridgefeld!” Lord Cartwright hurried outside, his butler and two footmen close behind as Eli brushed the traveling dust from this overcoat.
“You’ve arrived. The museum has added additional staff to assist in unloading, sorting, and organizing your grandfather’s expansive collection.
Since you wrote of staying in London until the task was complete…
I feared without help you would be here long past the Christmastide season.
” He waved wildly toward the door. “Do come in. Let us have a drink and discuss your travels.”
He looked between his driver, valet, the footmen, and Cartwright. “Do you think—“
“Do not worry,” he said, rubbing his hand through his sandy light brown hair and rocking back on his heels. “They will see to your things. Let us go inside.”
Cartwright didn’t wait for Eli to respond but pivoted and started back toward the door.
There was no other option but to follow the man or be left behind.
“We can handle this, my lord,” Mathers confirmed.
“Thank you.” Elijah hurried to catch Cartwright as he walked across the foyer, mumbling under his breath with each step he took.
“Pardon, my lord?” Eli finally fell into step beside him. “What were you saying?”
“Oh!” Cartwright’s steps faltered as if he hadn’t realized he’d spoken aloud. “It is forty-seven steps to my study from the front door. I have a thing for counting…and when I am overexcited, I tend to take smaller, quicker steps. Very ungentlemanly. If I count, it helps.”
Eli only smiled and nodded at the earl’s rambling.
“It is a pleasure to see you again, Ridgefeld,” Cartwright gushed. “It was a pity you departed Hollybrooke when you did.”
“Yes, well…” Eli wondered if Cartwright remembered that he’d all but demanded Eli leave the wedding celebration early. “I am happy to have arrived safely—as well as all the wagons—in London. It has been many years since I’ve seen the city. I do hope your bridal tour was enjoyable.”
Cartwright rounded his desk and sat, motioning for Eli to do the same in the guest chair.
“As far as bridal tours go, it was dreadful, I must say. I had the unfortunate task of evicting paying tenants from my country manor. When my uncle absconded with much of the Cartwright coffers, it was necessary for me to take on leaseholders at many of my properties to afford their upkeep and such.” He shook his head with remorse.
“Since my fortunes are beginning to improve—and my family is soon to grow—I thought it only right to revert my estate for family use.”
He wondered if the earl was accustomed to oversharing with his business guests, or maybe Cartwright was in need of a friend.
Besides Cummings, Stanford, and Gunther, Cartwright had had no other male guests not connected to Miss Judith in attendance at Hollybrooke.
And the trio was more business associate than friend.
“Nuisance, the lot of it, though I am certain you are not concerned with all that. May I offer you a drink?” Cartwright asked.
“Oh, no, thank you,” Eli said. It was far too early for spirits, and tea had never been a favorite of Eli’s. “Thank you for offering me a place to stay while in London. It is quite embarrassing to admit that I do not have my own residence here.”
“It is the least I could offer for your generosity to the museum. And I dare say my new bride would be appalled if I allowed you to find lodging in a boarding house or to stay at an inn while in town.” A screech sounded from the somewhere deep within the house, and Cartwright cringed.
“Although, you may still want to seek other accommodations. My dear mother is still adjusting to being called dowager, and without Theo in residence, she is completely unoccupied.” He paused, massaging his temples as another yell echoed from the second floor.
“If you do decide to find other housing, would you ask my dear wife if I might join you?”
Elijah chuckled at the man’s unintended—and unexpected—wit. “I’ve heard escaping one’s mother is difficult, and I fear evading a wife is all but impossible.”
Light footsteps sounded behind Eli, and he turned, his breath hitching. For a brief moment, Eli thought it was Sam who’d entered the room, and his heartbeat sped.
His hopes were dashed when Miss Judith—err, Lady Cartwright’s—lyrical voice greeted him. “Lord Ridgefeld. It is lovely to see you again. I do hope Simon is not keeping you from resting after your long journey.” She raised a questioning brow at her husband.
“I have not—“ Cartwright began but wisely clamped his mouth shut.
“I have had a room prepared for you,” the countess continued. “At the opposite side of the house as the dowager, never fear. I am confident you must be exhausted. I can have a footman show you to your room.”
“Yes, you are correct, my love,” Cartwright agreed. “Rest…and a proper bath are just what is needed after travel.”
The countess smiled, turning back to Eli. “If you are rested by this evening, you are welcome to join Simon and me. Lord and Lady Chastain are hosting a ball in our honor—to celebrate our union—and introduce us properly to society. You truly must come.”
He stopped himself from asking if Miss Samantha would be in attendance. Of course, she would not miss an event celebrating her sister and Cartwright.
“I will have my valet ready my evening attire,” Eli said with a smile, hoping his unease was not too visible.
“It will be my first soirée, excluding the small country dances held outside Liverpool, of course.” There was no need to mention the many tribal rituals he’d partaken in over the years, but he’d more accurately served as a witness and bystander at those.
“Lovely.” Lady Cartwright clapped her hands with delight. “Do not fret overmuch. There will be at least a dozen familiar faces, I assure you.”
Odd that any nervousness dissipated quickly at the idea of being in Sam’s presence once again.