Chapter Eight
Despite Ophelia’s confidence in her plan during her carriage ride over to Lord Worthing’s estate on a rather lovely Monday afternoon, now that she was here, his townhouse within sight, she wasn’t entirely sure her plan would work.
But it had to. She had spent hours and hours mulling over various ideas and approaches, and with such a short time frame there was little other choice than to begin and thrust the Viscount into Society whether he was ready or not.
She could only hope he would agree.
‘Do you remember what you’re supposed to do?’ Ophelia asked.
‘For the thousandth time. Yes, I remember,’ Trudy groused before shaking her head. ‘Do try to calm yourself. Your nerves will only set him on edge. Most likely the man has not been so visibly in Society in…years.’
‘You are right,’ Ophelia agreed. She took a calming breath, but it didn’t work. She fidgeted with the bracelet about her wrist letting the small purple glass beads slide through her fingers.
No matter what happened, it would be fine.
She told herself this over and over until their carriage slowed to a stop and William’s driver opened the door for them.
‘Good luck,’ he said with his familiar rolling Scottish burr. ‘I will wait for you here.’
‘Thank you,’ Ophelia replied, grateful for his steady hand as she alighted from the carriage. Trudy, Ophelia’s chaperone for the day, muttered something rather unladylike before she exited the carriage, which sent the driver into a chuckle.
‘It is a beautiful day to spend in the park, Trudy. And, really, all you must do is guard my reputation and be within eyesight, even if it is a few strides behind us. The goal today is for Lord Worthing to be seen in Society, and for that impression to be a positive one.’
‘You do not worry that other people will think he is courting you?’ Trudy asked.
‘Actually,’ she replied with a smirk, ‘that is exactly what I hope will happen. Lord Worthing needs to be seen out in Society, so something new can be written about him in the gossip pages. What better way for me to get a free advertisement for my new business and for him to be seen in a positive light? This way the interest and intrigue around him will begin and when he truly commences courting a young woman, the ton will be eager to embrace him.’ Ophelia was thrilled about the plan she had devised.
The only hiccup might be Lord Worthing’s refusal to participate.
She knew it was not a Wednesday and that pulling him into a park rather than his usual excursions in town would be a challenge, but she had to convince him.
And remind him that less than thirty days now remained for him to secure a bride. There was not a single day to waste.
As they climbed the stairs to his front door she could hardly wait for the first part of her plan to begin.
Lucas felt like he had been waiting for hours.
The sound of the knocker below made him sigh in relief.
Expecting visitors was tedious, even if they came invited.
Though he didn’t want to admit it, he was rather nervous.
Last night he had tossed and turned, unable to sleep.
His mind was full of worry and doubt over whether he’d done the right thing at all by enlisting the help of an official matchmaker, especially one as lovely as Miss Granger.
Selecting what to wear had been its own struggle, and even now, when he looked down at his fussy dove-grey trousers, with a matching waistcoat and jacket with tails and pristine white shirt, he groaned.
He preferred to wear darker colours, but Denton had talked him into a lighter shade and had tied and retied his cravat for the umpteenth time.
He looked in the solitary mirror that graced his bath chamber, ran a hand through his hair, and cursed.
This is why I do not have mirrors in this house. I’m fooling no one. What woman would dare choose me?
While at one time he had been handsome, now he looked like a tired, war-beaten man who had the scars of battle etched heavily along his face and neck to prove it.
There was no hiding the unmistakable. Even Miss Granger had been unable to look away upon their first meeting that day in the carriage and had studied the scars for longer than he was comfortable with.
Although her look hadn’t been one of horror or pity, but a gentle sympathy, and perhaps that was why he was allowing her the first chance to find him a dutiful wife.
Her beauty and effervescent demeanor also didn’t hurt.
He was still a man after all, even if he was a recluse.
The faint sounds of female voices echoed upstairs, and he stilled.
It did not sound like Lady Buchanan today, so perhaps Miss Granger had brought along Miss Hastings instead.
He descended the stairs and paused at the threshold of the parlour.
When he noted the women had parasols with them, he cringed.
Whatever Miss Granger had planned, it was clearly out of doors… with other people.
Curses.
He almost did an about-face and went back up the stairs.
Miss Granger caught his gaze and smiled.
‘Good afternoon, Lord Worthing! My, you do look smart today. I must say I like the lighter shade of your attire. It suits your complexion. Are you ready for our adventure? Ah, and you will need your hat.’
Miss Hastings sent him a broad smile like a Cheshire cat, and Lucas knew he was in trouble. And that he was the last one to be in on Miss Granger’s plan.
‘Whatever for?’ he asked as calmly as he could muster.
‘For our promenade in Hyde Park. It is time to see and be seen, my lord. Today, we are writing a new script for how the people of Society perceive you.’
‘We are going for a walk in the park…now?’
‘Yes. There is simply no better time than the present and the weather is perfect. It will be teeming with prospects.’ She clapped her hands together, smiled and awaited his response.
His entire body lurched and tightened. ‘That was exactly what I was afraid of,’ he grumbled.
‘Well, my lord, as you well know, one of the only ways to find a match is to allow yourself to join the game. And, I believe from what you have said, you have been out of the game for quite some time. This shall be a great way to put a toe back in those waters.’
‘Even if I do not wish to?’ he asked. He was beginning to feel quite cross. It sounded like an absolutely horrid way to spend a fine afternoon or to attract a wife. He would much rather be painting.
That damned blank canvas remained in his studio, mocking his progress, or the lack thereof. It mirrored how he felt now: uncertain, ill at ease, and with not much to show for it.
‘You have hired me to help you find a match, have you not?’ Miss Granger lifted her chin and a solitary eyebrow in challenge.
‘Yes, I have.’ He crossed his arms against his chest and mirrored her battle-ready stance.
‘Then, you must allow me to do my work to attain your success, and that means trusting the process.’ She gifted him a sweet smile that set his nerves afire.
What was he doing?
Fulfilling a promise to Mother and your duty as Viscount.
And your promise to Diana and all those men who died, so that you can honour them by living your life to the fullest.
Ah, hell.
He sighed in resignation. ‘I will concede to your request for this torturous afternoon walk of yours, but can you please explain to me why we must do this? Surely there is another way that would allow me more privacy and less exposure to the ton?’
‘The exposure to the ton is necessary, my lord. After learning more about what all the gossip sheets have written about you, creating a new narrative for you is essential and the first thing we must do. And being seen out in Society is the best way to do that.’
‘Even with this?’ He pointed to his scarring and frowned.
‘Yes,’ she replied with no further explanation.
Her certainty was confusing and frustrating. ‘And?’ he asked.
‘And we shall leave once you are ready,’ she answered.
He stifled a curse and cast a pleading glance at Yates, who appeared to be smiling or at least smirking under that usual dour expression of his.
This whole day was turning into an irritation. He stood glaring at no one in particular.
‘Are you ready, my lord?’ Miss Granger asked patiently.
‘I do not wish to waste a moment of this glorious day. We will discuss your full calendar of events I have planned later, but we must not tarry on getting started with this first one.’ If the woman wasn’t so beautiful and so certain she was right, he would have refused.
But he had gone this far and if he truly wanted to fulfill his promise to continue the Worthing line a wife was needed first, so he had to begin.
And he knew himself well enough to know he wouldn’t dare begin alone.
So, with great reservation he grabbed his hat, allowed Yates to help him shrug on his overcoat and followed the ladies out to his carriage which was already waiting for them in front of the gate.
Evidently, even his driver, Josiah, was involved in this ruse.
Miss Granger was clearly a force to be reckoned with.
Once they were settled and travelling toward the park, Miss Hastings finally spoke.
‘What was your career, my lord, if I may ask? I find myself quite intrigued by the class system here in London and how gentlemen spend their time.’ Her dark eyes challenged him to answer, and there was a part of him that understood her doubt and censure.
Not all gentlemen of the ton could be trusted or lived a meaningful life.
‘I cannot say I have had a career as such, Miss Hastings, although I was a soldier for a time. My family, or I should say my father and his family made a great deal of their money in mining. It was for the most part…well invested.’
He had a feeling that it wouldn’t be enough of an answer for long. Miss Hastings had the watchful and observant eyes of a cat that viewed everyone with suspicion, and he didn’t blame her.