Chapter Four #2
“I apologize,” Lady Annalise said with a blush marking her cheeks.
“I have forgotten my manners. This is Lord Orson’s wife.
She is another of Lord Duncan’s ‘daughters.’” Lady Annalise nodded to the woman before saying, “Lady Orson, might I give you the acquaintance of Lady Freya Cunningham. Beaufort and I took Lady Freya’s company when His Lordship and I traveled to Scotland with Lord Graham. ”
Lady Orson asked playfully with a lift of her brows, “Did you witness Beaufort and Lady Annalise’s wedding? We were all quite sad to have missed the ceremony.”
“I fear I did not, though I wished to accept Lady Annalise’s offer to stand with her during the ceremony.” Freya frowned slightly. “My father wished to continue on to his home seat after our coach knew a repair.”
Lady Orson’s eyebrow lifted slightly higher this second time, but she said, “We were planning to have tea at a nearby tearoom. Would you care to join us? Lady Beaufort has promised to share a special secret with us. I am assured you would not wish to be denied what we all anticipate will be the loveliest of news.”
Lady Orson and Lady Beaufort locked arms and led the way along the boulevard, while Freya and Miss Whitchurch trailed behind them.
“Is everything prepared for your special day?” Freya asked as she again crossed the busy traffic lining the street.
It was quite obvious Parliament was back in session and all the families had returned to London for the upcoming Season.
“It is a dream I never knew I wanted,” Miss Whitchurch responded in a wistful tone, totally ignoring the hustle and bustle all around her. Freya was envious. “Lord Thompson is so solicitous and most amiable. Young Ethan and I are blessed to have him in our lives.”
Freya was a bit jealous of all three women, but she said, “I am sincerely glad for you.” The other two women had stopped before a colorfully painted tearoom, so she and Miss Whitchurch hurried their steps.
Without prelude, Lady Orson reached for the door latch, and they entered together.
Odd as it would be to admit it to the others, Freya had never been within a public tearoom.
She glanced about her, unsure what was to come next.
Immediately, a man dressed as an upper servant in a fine house bowed before them. “My ladies, may I serve you?”
Lady Orson kept control of the situation. “Yes, sir. We are desirous of your finest tea and cakes.”
“Absolutely, my lady. If you will follow me?” the man said politely.
He seated them at a large table off to the side, holding each of their chairs before rushing away to fetch their refreshments. Lady Orson continued to lead, “Now, Lady Annalise, we wish to know your news. No more secrets.”
Freya looked on as the young woman blushed thoroughly and cleared her throat.
“Over Christmastide, my grandmother arranged for me to speak to a midwife, for I was quite ill for several weeks. The woman confirmed that I was likely with child. Even so, I did not tell Beaufort until we were in York for the trials, meaning an additional three weeks. When we returned to London, Beaufort sent for another midwife to confirm what we thought was a possibility. She, too, thought me with child.”
Freya watched the expressions of the other two women. Miss Whitchurch expressed her happiness first. “How very lovely for you and His Lordship. When might we greet the new Beaufort?”
Lady Annalise explained, “As both midwives believe I conceived the child within the first few days of our marriage, the child would arrive in late June or early July.”
Lady Emma finally offered her congratulations.
What her delay said of the woman, Freya did not know, but there was an edge to Her Ladyship’s tone when she spoke.
“Orson has always said that both Beaufort and Graham were the most broken of Lord Duncan’s sons.
I imagine Beaufort is ecstatic and bursting with happiness. ”
Freya wondered about Her Ladyship’s remark about Lord Graham, but she dared not ask for a clarification.
“My husband is walking about in some sort of cloud of happiness mixed with disbelief, but Navan is very methodical in how he addresses whatever comes his way.” Her Ladyship giggled. “Now you know why my measurements today were not the same as when I left for Ireland.”
“We are all very happy for you,” Miss Whitchurch declared. “We may have a celebration when our wedding party reaches Kent.”
“Kent?” The word slipped out before Freya had time to curb her curiosity. “I thought all of Lord Duncan’s sons had home estates in England’s northern shires, that is, except those belonging to Lord Graham.”
Lady Orson explained, “Were you not aware that there are two Lord Thompsons currently sitting in the Lords. One lives near the northern Yorkshire border, but our Lord Thompson resides in Kent at Thom Manor.”
Freya simply murmured her gratitude for the explanation to the woman, for her mind was already churning.
A means for her to encounter Lord Graham again might truly be in her reach.
It will take careful planning, her reason cautioned.
You must concoct a reason to spend time with your Aunt Felicity without letting on that Lord Graham would also be in Kent at the same time.
When she returned home, Freya would seek out her father’s copy of Debrett’s Peerage to learn how close her aunt might live to Lord Graham’s brother, Lord Thompson.
Aunt Felicity was her mother’s younger sister, a woman who had married a man of the English gentry.
Of course, Kent is quite large, her mind announced as Freya attempted to hide her enthusiasm, but it is a chance I did not have previously.
She came out of her thoughts when the table fell silent. She blushed thoroughly. “I apologize for becoming lost in my thoughts.”
“I asked, what say you?” Lady Orson repeated pointedly. “Our Annalise says you are to marry Sir Patrick Hodge, but not from choice.”
“What say I to what?” Freya replied cautiously.
Lady Orson smiled widely. “What say you to asking Mrs. Dove-Lyon to find you a husband—one better than Sir Patrick? I promise it will be great fun, and Mrs. Dove-Lyon has a known success rate in such matters.”
Freya was stunned by the suggestion. “Have any of you ever been in the Lyon’s Den?” she asked.
“All of us,” Lady Orson declared with a smile. “Some of us more than once.”
“Lord Graham, my lady,” the Beaufort butler announced Aaran’s presence.
As she always did, Lady Annalise Beaufort scrambled to her feet to greet him.
His brother Beaufort had won the heart of a remarkable woman, and, in many ways, Aaran knew great envy.
Her Ladyship ignored a necessary curtsy, and, instead, rushed into Aaran’s waiting arms. He chuckled, “You will never change, will you, my girl?”
Her Ladyship rose on her toes to kiss his cheek, and Aaran briefly closed his eyes to savor the moment. “Why should I change?” Lady Annalise questioned. “Beaufort seems to know satisfaction, and you, sir, have always been one of my most trusted confidants.”
“I have,” he said with a smile.
“Come. Sit beside me,” Lady Annalise instructed. “Tea, Mr. Cross, or would you rather have something stronger, my lord?”
“Tea is fine,” Aaran instructed.
“Yes, my lord. My lady.” The butler bowed and disappeared.
Meanwhile, Aaran settled beside Beaufort’s wife.
“My brother has told Duncan, Orson, Thompson, and me of your news. I must say I approve of the befuddled look on Navan’s countenance these days, but I am a bit befuddled myself as to why I was not in your confidence. ”
As he thought she would respond, Lady Annalise barked a laugh. “I had to tell His Lordship first, my lord, and then we both wanted an additional opinion. You know how my husband plans for every detail.”
“Yes, I do, my dear girl. I meant only to tease you. Just know I am quite jealous of my Irish brother,” Aaran admitted.