Lelia M. Silver

 

Chapter 1

Lady Adele Watson, only daughter of the Marquess of Rockingham, let the door to the drawing room thud shut behind her. She wished it was ladylike to slam doors, for she would dearly have liked to let the door banging closed be the exclamation point on the speech she’d just delivered for the fourth time this season. But, no. She was a lady and she would comport herself as one, even if she couldn’t say the same of the suitor she’d just left on one knee in her drawing room.

Instead, she stalked down the hall of their townhome to the library. There wasn’t much thought to her choice; she simply went as far away from the drawing room as she could within the confines of their home. Her brother Theodore was already within, a book open on his lap.

He watched her flounce across the room and throw herself on to one of the sofas with a twist of amusement on his lips. “Hard day in the drawing room?”

She looked over at him with a scowl and blew an errant strand of hair that had come loose from her updo out of her eyes. “I wish I were a man. Then I could choose to ignore calling hours completely like you do.”

He chuckled and closed his book. “That bad, huh?”

“I just turned down another marriage proposal.”

Theodore thought back over the few weeks they’d been in town. “That’s what, the third one?”

“Fourth.”

“Wow. This season’s bachelors aren’t wasting any time. I have to give them credit where it is due. It takes a lot of confidence to propose to the daughter of a Marquess after only a handful of engagements.”

“Or stupidity,” complained Adele. “I don’t understand why Papa doesn’t send them packing the moment they apply to him for my hand.”

“What makes you think they’re asking permission first? They probably hope to convince you that they’ve fallen head over heels for you first so you will appeal to Papa for them. Or better yet, convince you that you’re in love with them. They know Papa will be far more likely to take any appeal you make seriously.”

She sat up abruptly. “I’m so sick of all the posturing and preening. I am not some naïve miss who can be convinced to run off to Gretna Green at the first wink in my direction by a pretty face. It is time I take control of this situation.”

She sprang to her feet and strode out the door.

Amused, Theodore put aside his book and followed her into the hallway. “Where are you going?” he called after her.

“To see Phil!” she called back, her stride never slowing.

Theo sighed. “Well, there went my plans for a nice, quiet afternoon in the library.”

“Hold up!” He headed up the hall after his sister, his long stride eating up the ground between them. “I’m coming with you.”

*****

Philomena Hatch curled up on the window seat in her front parlor and watched as all of polite society wandered by on the street below. The townhome she had purchased seven years ago was situated in the most fashionable part of Town, ensuring that she could never be forgotten or overlooked by society. Her fortune did the rest, guaranteeing that she was still invited to all the most sought-after soirees and balls despite her status as the eccentric spinster of the Ton.

Miss Thumbelina, her elderly terrier, or terror, depending on who was around, pawed at her skirts.

Phil turned to her with a sigh and a smile. “Are you asking permission, Miss Thumb? That’s unlike you.” She scooped up the little dog and settled her on her lap. “Your arthritis must be acting up with this weather.”

Although the sun was shining brightly, the air still retained a chill that spring had not managed to shake off yet.

When she turned back to the window, there were people at her doorstep. She pressed her nose against the glass as the man presented his card to her butler, trying to make out who would have deigned to call upon her at her residence. From this angle, all she could make out was their elegant attire. There was no carriage, so they must have walked, which meant their residence could not be too far away. Had Owen and Hannah arrived in Town early? Her friend’s last letter had indicated they would be arriving the next week as their eldest child had come down with a cold.

No, Owen was blonde and the hair that peeked out from under this man’s hat was decidedly brown. A rich, sepia brown shot through with wheat and honey tones. She flattened her palm against her stomach as she recognized it. Theodore Watson, Lord Malton, the eldest son of the Marquess of Rockingham, which meant the woman accompanying him must be his sister Adele. Well, it could also be any number of his cousins, but she thought it most likely Adele. She had seen his sister wear a mantle in that color many times.

The butler held the door as they stepped inside. Adele entered quickly, most likely eager to get out of the cold. But Theo glanced up instead, his gaze searching as he glanced over the façade of her townhome until found her parlor window. He grinned at her as their eyes met and tipped his hat before following his sister inside. Cheeks flooding with pink at being caught, Phil sat up hastily, pulling away from the window and arranging herself on the window seat to greet her guests.

She waited for the sound of her butler’s steps in the hall, the solid thwack of his shoes against the wood floors a reassuring cadence in her life. In the years since she had left her parents’ home, that sound had become a steady, dependable, and comforting reassurance that she was not alone. She hadn’t realized the true cost of attaining her freedom.

She smiled at him as Bertram appeared in the door way. “You can send them up,” she said without waiting for him to speak. “I am always at home to Lord Malton and Lady Adele.”

Her butler bowed low. “As you wish.”

He was gone with a flash of his coat tails. Only a minute later, she heard the low hum of Theo’s voice and the higher timbres of Adele’s as they conversed in the hallway.

Miss Thumbelina abandoned her post on Phil’s lap and hopped down with a grunt. The instant Theo crossed the threshold, she was at his ankles, begging to be picked up.

He laughed and swooped down to cradle her in his arms. “I’m happy to see you, too, Miss Thumbelina.”

She rewarded him with a series of happy yips and a quick bathing of his chin with her tongue. It was still bewildering to Phil, after nearly eight years of knowing the Watsons, that the dog who was notorious for hating men adored Theo.

Phil adopted her most put-upon persona. She smiled coolly at Theo. “Why, Lord Malton, one would think you were here to visit my dog instead of me.”

He chuckled and took a seat on the sofa across from her, making room for Adele to follow him into the room. “One would also think you’d remember that my name is Theo and not Lord Malton, Mena. Besides, I’m just here for moral support. Adele is the one who insisted on visiting.”

Phil’s stomach sank a little in disappointment at his words, but she refused to acknowledge it. Instead, she turned to Adele and lifted a brow in question. “There’s no sense in getting bogged down in the niceties. What can I do for you, Lady Adele? Have the beaux of the ton become too much for you to handle?”

“I turned down my fourth proposal today,” Adele said grimly.

Phil’s eyes widened. “So soon after the start of the season? You might have set a new record.”

“They are all rotten excuses for men,” Theo put in from his corner of the sofa. “There hasn’t been a respectable one among the lot.”

“Anyone worth having isn’t going to propose this soon in the season. He would take his time to make sure that he is making the correct decision,” agreed Phil.

“I’m sick of it,” Adele complained. She leaned forward, beseeching. “I need a way to put off these men, and as we all know, you are the queen of driving away men. What insight do you have to impart to me, O wise one?”

Phil sat back, tapping one finger against her mouth as she thought. “That is quite the dilemma. It is not necessarily all men you want to scare off, just the unscrupulous ones with nefarious purposes or those who would be wholly unsuitable.”

“Precisely. I don’t have the time to weed out those who are a worthy candidate for my hand when I’m constantly fending off proposals from these jackanapeses.”

“To start with you, will need something like Miss Thumbelina to be your first line of defense,” mused Phil. “Something that will repel those who are looking for an easy mark.”

“I have three brothers who rarely leave my side and a father who is a Marquess. You would think that would be deterrent enough,” said Adele.

“I’m going to ignore your slight on my person,” said Theo dryly. “In truth, I think it would be difficult to replicate the effect Miss Thumbelina has. Not many dogs have such an innate hatred for men and an inherently ferocious personality.” Theo gave a fond pat to the elderly dog’s head. Miss Thumbelina burrowed closer to his side, letting out a content sigh the belied everything he had just said.

Phil dismissed the option of a dog with a flick of her wrist. “It would take too long to train a dog to do what we would need it to do anyway. We need something that we can put to immediate effect.”

There was a silent pause as they all wracked their brains for a possible solution. Then Phil sat up straight, a grin taking over her face. Theo turned suddenly wary. Rightly so, of course, but he didn’t know that yet.

“Whatever you’re thinking, count me out of it,” Theo said.

She just grinned wider. “When have you ever been able to tell me no? Besides, this is for your sister. We both know you would do anything for her.”

He glanced over at his sister, who raised her brows hopefully.

He sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. “Fine. Let’s hear it. What do you have in mind?”

She rubbed her hands together in glee. “How do you feel about parrots?”

 

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