Chapter Twenty-One #2
Mr. Shaft had been immensely grateful and told David he could shop anytime, for merchandise or books, and everything would be free. Knowing that Kidsgrove once more had a proprietor to run the place, he no longer had any ties and was free to return to Sheridale.
He had met with the staff, assuring them they all would keep their positions, and then he met separately with Mr. Finley.
David had the steward tutor him in everything he needed to know in running a large estate, and that process had gone on for several weeks.
Finley had been happy to do so, and the tenants of Sheridale seemed pleased that they finally had a landlord who was there to look after their best interests.
Most of them had never seen Claude, much less met him, because the earl had spent so much of his time in town.
The only thing left was to see if Justina would have him now.
David had gone to Mr. Layton’s this morning. The art dealer had not even remembered him. He supposed Layton’s full attention had been on Henry, since he was a marquess. While there, David had found several of Justina’s paintings hanging on the walls.
And bought every one of them.
He recognized the places she painted. If not by name, then by spirit. Justina captured the beauty and mysticism of the Lake District, and it thrilled him that he now owned some of her work.
Knowing it was almost time for His Grace’s carriage to arrive, he made his way downstairs.
The duke had insisted that David ride with them to the opening ball of the Season.
Naturally, he had received an invitation to it—and dozens of other events—finding those invitations awaiting him when he arrived at his London townhouse.
Hostesses did not care what man showed up.
They only invited a title, and he possessed one now.
He thought it interesting that not one of Claude’s friends had reached out to him, sympathizing with him over his brother’s death.
Then again, David did not believe Claude truly had friends, only men who gathered together with those similar to themselves, ones who lacked in morals and character.
He hoped to bring honor back to the title, and his intentions of finding his countess would be an excellent start.
What worried him most was that Justina had vocalized that she was not interested in marriage. Had that been because of her deep love of art, thinking to devote herself to it? Or had she simply a disdain for Polite Society, in general?
He hoped he would find the answer to that question tonight.
Joining the Davenports in the carriage, he acknowledged Elinor first.
“My, don’t you look beautiful this evening? Where is the young girl who followed Henry and me about, her hair in braids, her knees bruised?”
Elinor laughed. “She has gone and grown up while you were not looking, David.” She paused. “Do you truly like my gown?”
“I adore it,” he praised. “And you have never looked lovelier than this evening. If I did not feel so brotherly toward you, I would be swept away by your grace and beauty.”
Henry chuckled. “You managed to wiggle out of that one. But I do hope you will dance with Elinor this evening.”
“Oh, please do so, David. I must admit that I am feeling a little overwhelmed. It would be nice to have a familiar face to partner with.”
“Then we should dance the first one together,” he said.
“Excellent,” the duke proclaimed. “Now, I know that my daughter has dragged me to town because she desires a husband. Even my son tells me that he is amenable to looking for a bride. But what of you, David? Or should I now call you Sheridan?”
“You may refer to me however you wish, Your Grace. And yes, I am interested in finding my countess. I already have the perfect candidate in mind.”
“Lady Justina,” the duke said, nodding in approval.
“She is the only one for me.”
Elinor squealed. “You wish to wed Lady Justina? Does she know of this, David?”
He danced a careful line now. “She is aware that I have held feelings for her, but I could not act upon them in the past.”
“Because you were a poor shopkeeper,” Elinor bluntly pointed out.
“Yes. Exactly. But as an earl, I have the means to care for her.” He paused. “I only hope her feelings for me have not changed.”
“I promise I will not say a word,” Elinor promised. “If you are to offer for her, she must hear it from your lips. Not mine.”
“Thank you, Elinor. But you will be one of the first we tell. That is, if there is any good news to share. Lady Justina may have moved on, however. She may be interested in someone else. Or she may prefer her painting over marriage.”
Elinor’s nose wrinkled. “She did say something of that nature before. Oh, I hope she will change her mind, because you are wonderful, David. I hope I can find a gentleman as kind and handsome as you are.” She grinned. “And if he lives in Cumberland, that will be to my liking.”
“Do not rule out a candidate for your hand if he lives elsewhere,” Henry cautioned.
“I am teasing,” Elinor said. “I am going to listen to my heart. Even if it takes me to Land’s End.”
“Oh, dear,” the duke said, causing them all to laugh merrily.
They arrived at Lord and Lady Trowell’s residence. Or at least the carriage stopped and they got out.
His Grace harumphed. “Some things never change. It was the same in my time, years ago. The opening ball is always a crush of carriages and people. We will have to walk from here.”
David fell into step behind the duke and Elinor, Henry at his side.
“Nervous?” his friend inquired.
“So much, I fear my teeth will begin chattering at any moment,” he admitted.
“If not Lady Justina, you will find someone,” Henry assured him.
But David knew that it would be Justina—or no one at all.