Chapter Eleven
As Greyson’s eyes followed his carriage as it disappeared around a corner, taking Letitia home, his mind warred with itself.
Too many things occupied it. He thought his head would burst, and he contemplated taking a bottle of whisky to his chambers and drinking it until he fell into oblivion.
The problem with doing so was that he would feel like death in the morning, and he’d still have to accomplish all the things he needed to, except with one hell of a headache.
Instead, he ran up the stairs and down the hall to his chambers, where Dalton waited for him. “Just help me with my boots, Dalton, and then you may retire.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Dalton helped him with his boots, then left, closing the door quietly.
Greyson undressed, put on a navy-blue banyan, and sat at his small writing desk in his room, scribbling several notes he needed to send the next morning.
One was to the Duke of Tremont, or rather, Knight, requesting a private meeting to discuss his upcoming assignment in more detail.
He also wanted to request several special considerations at the masquerade ball.
He wanted everything to be perfect for Letitia that night.
It was a big step in their courtship, and he wouldn’t leave anything to chance.
He also penned a note to Hunter, reiterating what he had said tonight and welcoming him into the family, even though he was already considered family.
As one of his two best friends, he couldn’t be happier.
The other note he wrote was addressed to Warren, stating that he was expected at Danbury Hall precisely at three on Tuesday afternoon and that he looked forward to discussing the marriage contract.
After folding and sealing all three correspondences, he left them on a tray on the desk for Dalton.
Dalton had been with him since Greyson turned eighteen and sometimes knew what he wanted or needed even before he did.
The man was very intuitive and precise in his duties, which reminded Greyson that it was time to give him a raise.
Loyalty and honesty were traits Greyson insisted on, and Dalton embodied both and more.
Feeling tired, both physically and mentally, he removed his banyan and climbed beneath the covers.
The night had chilled considerably, and Dalton had built a fire, giving the room a warm glow.
The crackling of the logs helped lull him to sleep, and he dreamed of Letitia running through a wildflower field at Danbury Estate, laughing and removing her clothing as she ran.
Greyson noticed several things when he awoke: The blaze in the hearth had burned down to embers.
Rays of sunshine were peeking through the gaps in the curtains, letting him know it was a bright day.
He heard movement in his dressing room, which had two entrances, one to his chambers and one to Dalton’s sleeping quarters, alerting him that Dalton was up and would be coming in momentarily.
As if he had conjured him up, Dalton opened the dressing room door and marched to the curtains, opening them. “Good morning, your lordship. I trust you slept well.”
“Yes. Thank you, Dalton.”
“There’s hot water in the basin and fresh linens. Anything else?”
“See that the letters on the desk are delivered immediately. Have a tray brought to my father’s study in half an hour. I’ll be leaving at ten, so please have my horse brought around then.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Greyson threw back the covers and hurried into his dressing room to perform his morning ablutions.
He dipped a small linen cloth in the basin of hot water, lathered it with soap, washed his body, and dried off with a larger linen cloth.
Dressed in his riding clothes, he tugged on his boots and made his way down the stairs into the study.
His breakfast tray arrived. He ate the eggs and toast, then looked over Aurora’s marriage contract, which his father had written up, while drinking his coffee.
It was identical to Anatasia’s, and he couldn’t imagine Warren having any issue with it.
His chest tightened. He had mixed emotions about marrying off his twin sisters.
Life as they knew it would forever be changed.
They would never live together at Danbury Hall again as a family.
Oh, he knew it was the progression of one’s life.
Or hopefully it was. Marry, move away, and have children.
He wanted it for himself and certainly for his sisters.
Change was necessary and expected in the sequence of one’s life, but it was still sad to know that life, as he’d always known it, would disappear soon.
But then his chest eased when he thought of Letitia and the life he hoped to create with her.
Not once in his twenty-eight years had he met a woman he wanted in his life forever until her.
Ever since the first night he met her, he’d fought to remain calm, to not overwhelm her.
He didn’t want to frighten her with his desires and the need to claim her.
Whenever he was privileged to be in her company, every nerve ending in his body tingled with awareness, making him wonder if that was what happened to Hunter with Anastasia.
It was ridiculous to think he was the only one who felt this way when finding the person they loved.
And yes, he loved Letitia to distraction.
He only hoped it wouldn’t be his downfall.
It was high time he stopped making excuses for why he couldn’t commit to her. If she would have him, that was.
A knock on the study door pulled him from his musings. “Forgive me, my lord,” Henderson said. “Your horse is waiting.”
Greyson sighed with relief once he sat on his favorite horse, Whisky.
Whenever he was on horseback, no matter what was bothering him or occupying his mind, he relaxed.
The scent of horse, leather, and freedom called to him.
At least what he perceived as freedom, or as much freedom as one could have in the city of London.
Already, the streets of Mayfair were crowded with carriages, hackneys, and horses.
He entered the fray and rode with a smile on his face to Club Knight.
When he arrived, all was silent, as was the norm for a nighttime establishment.
He dismounted and handed his reins to a stableboy who worked for Knight.
Then he made his way around to the backdoor and did the secret knock.
Samuel Cutter opened the door. “He’s waiting for you downstairs.
” Greyson made his way down to their secret room and found Knight sitting in a chair with his feet up on another.
“Sit, Greyson. What did you want to discuss at this ungodly hour? You do realize I haven’t slept yet, don’t you?”
“Forgive me. I should’ve realized.”
“Yes, you should’ve. But since you’re here, let’s get on with it.”
“I have several requests regarding a room on the third floor for Tuesday’s masquerade ball.”
“Yes. What is it you want?”
For some reason, Knight had him feeling as if he were back at Eton, being questioned by the headmaster. He cleared his throat and rattled off several things he wanted prepared for the room.
“No problem. Consider it done. That better not be the only thing you wanted to talk to me about, because you could’ve sent a note with the instructions,” Knight grumbled.
“Of course not,” Greyson hurried to say. “I was thinking of Wednesday and the assignments.”
“I have been as well. I’m calling a meeting for Tuesday at one. I feel as though we aren’t as well prepared as we should be.”
“I agree.”
“Good. Get out of here and let me get some sleep. I have a wife waiting for me at home.”
“You are a fortunate man, Your Grace.”
Knight nodded. “Don’t I know it.”
When he left Club Knight, he had a long list of people to see and things to do he’d been putting off.
It was why he told Letitia he wouldn’t see her until he picked her up for the masquerade ball.
If he didn’t buckle down on estate business and his family finances, he would get further and further behind.