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Adam paced Brighton, clutching the large book of etiquette Lady Isla had lent him. Thabisa was fond of eating flowers, and he’d taken her to a garden he’d found.
The sky had darkened, and he sighed.
It was time to return to the Duke of Belmonte’s townhome. No doubt he’d been hasty to leave, and perhaps the Duke of Belmonte wouldn’t want him to stay there at all. The least he could do was to speak with him.
He grasped hold of the giant door knocker. Despite its sturdy size, as if equipped to be used for hours at a time, he only rapped once before the butler came to answer the door.
“Ah, Lord Tremont,” the butler said. “Do come in. His Grace was sorry to miss you.”
“Is he here now?”
“He’s traveling with his wife,” the butler said. “Her sister has a home in Kent. They will be back next week.”
“Oh.”
Adam hesitated, unsure whether to come in.
“Do enter, Lord Tremont. We do try not to be too frightening here.” The butler gave him a friendly smile.
“You don’t think the duke would mind?”
“A friend of Captain Fergus is a friend of his,” the butler repeated, and Adam knew his heart should lighten at the words, but instead he only felt guilty.
“I’ll have Cook prepare something for you.”
“Please do not go to any trouble.”
“You must eat, My Lord. Perhaps something cold though will suffice?”
He nodded. “That would be very nice.”
*
ADAM HAD BEEN COMING to see Lady Isla for lessons for the past three days. He was almost accustomed to Giles’s glower and the frequency of Miss Grant’s sniffs, even though she gave no other indication of suffering from a cold.
“What are we going to do today?” Adam asked. “Introductions? I’ve been practicing.”
Adam had read most of the etiquette books Lady Isla had lent him.
“There is an event in Brighton we should attend,” Lady Isla said. “It is a tea.” She gave him a hard stare. “I hope you can be trained by Sunday on the etiquette of imbibing tea.”
“Naturally.” The viscount straightened in his seat. “They had tea in the Cape Colony.”
“Did you ever drink it?” Lady Isla asked.
Adam’s face heated. “No.”
Tea was a luxury. Only the most proper people drank tea.
Still.
He knew about it. “It’s the dried plant fancy people pour hot water over and declare magnificent?”
“Er—yes,” Lady Isla said. “Though I’d rather you not describe it that way.”
Adam nodded. “Yes. Yes.” He paused and tilted his head. “Do you think I’m going to have to drink it too?”
“You will,” Isla said sternly. “And you’ll like it.”
“I see.”
“The tea will be somewhere else. I have written a letter to the Duchess of Vernon suggesting you as a guest. I do not anticipate a rejection.” She smiled. “I’m sure many people are curious about the new Viscount of Tremont.”
A thought occurred to him. “You mean to say the tea is with a duke and duchess?”
“Yes,” Lady Isla replied.
“But they’re practically royalty!” Adam exclaimed. “One step down from the king.”
Lady Isla sighed. “Technically, the prince is one step from the king. Do we need to go over the levels again?”
“I know them,” Adam said. “King, prince, duke, marquess, earl, viscount, baron, baronet.”
“Oh.” Lady Isla blinked. “You remember.”
“I’m not entirely without any skills,” Adam said.
“Of course not.”
“Besides, I had an excellent teacher,” Adam said.
Miss Grant rolled her eyes and rose. “I’ll see to the tea.”
The door closed behind Miss Grant.
They were alone.
For some reason the air seemed hot and humid, as if it had decided to take on a climate more common in the Cape Colony for a change.
He wanted to thank her again. He wanted to tell her his lessons with her were his favorite thing about England, his favorite thing, in fact, in a long time.
The words formed in his mouth, but he couldn’t utter them. If he began giving her compliments, he might inform her that her dark locks were the loveliest he’d ever seen, and that the turn of her nose, the shape of her lips, the curve of her cheeks, were the most remarkable. He might tell he continued every conversation they’d had, in his mind, long after he’d left. Because if he wasn’t going to be here with her, he wanted to remember being here with her.
He leaned toward her, and Lady Isla did the same, and for a moment, all words were possible.
Instead, he made certain to keep his voice low. “The duke and duchess are going to know I’m a fraud.”
She leaned back, as if she’d expected him to say something else. “They have no reason to suspect.”
“They wouldn’t think it odd they’ve never met a Viscount of Tremont before, and suddenly I appear?”
“On the contrary, they may well have met the late viscount whom you inherited from. Your estate is well known. You’re certainly not some Continental who has invented a whole title in order to indulge in British respect. The question is, are you going to tell me why you’re pretending to be someone you’re not?”
“You don’t seem to mind.”
She gave him a hard stare.
“My employer inherited shortly before he died,” Adam said finally. “And then he was—er—murdered. He wasn’t a nice man.” He frowned. “He killed Thabisa’s mother.”
Her eyes widened. “And then you killed him?”
“No. My interest in monkeys does not extend that far.” He sighed. “He had enemies. Our local magistrate, ironically, killed him. I’d left the house to purchase his ticket to England. He’d just learned about his inheritance. When I returned, I found his body and the magistrate.”
“And then you ran away.”
He nodded. “I was lucky I had Randall’s documents. The Cape Colony is small.”
“Do you miss it?”
“I miss the sun and the animals,” he admitted. “The Cape Colony has many problems though.”
“Like slavery.”
He nodded. “The Dutch came and enslaved many of the locals. The British speak about abolition, and I hope it happens soon. The British want to run the Cape Colony more smoothly, but they’ve pushed the Dutch farther into Africa, and some tribes are not happy. Randall was one of dozens of civil servants sent to the Cape Colony.”
“And you came with Randall?”
He nodded. “I didn’t know him well. But my parents and sisters had died. I saw the advertisement for British to populate the colony. They’re planning to send for more people next year.”
“They don’t just want the Cape Colony to be a trading post to India.”
“Precisely. On an impulse, I decided to join. I wanted an adventure.”
“You got one.”
“Indeed.” He gave a wry smile. “England was always a dream, since my mother spoke favorably of it.”
“Your father was a civil servant?”
He nodded. “He was a clerk. He never reached the promotions he desired.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shouldn’t be confessing so many things to her. He should be discreet. What if he couldn’t trust her? What if she told someone all the things he’d said, making it impossible for him to step into his old identity if he needed to?
But when footsteps sounded, and the housekeeper and Miss Grant entered with tea and treats, the only emotion he felt was disappointment.
*
THE CARRIAGE ROLLED over the streets, toward the Duke and Duchess of Vernon.
Adam’s stomach had decided to venture into acrobatics and was occupied with spinning and leaping, unfortunately not in a rhythm that aligned with the swerves of the carriage. “This was a terrible idea.”
“Nonsense.” Isla tossed her head. “I never have terrible ideas.”
Her lips trembled slightly, despite her strong words, and Adam’s stomach tumbled.
“So you remember the people we’re going to meet?” Lady Isla asked.
“Yes.”
“And how do you address the duke?”
“Your Grace.”
“Correct. Though since you’re a nobleman too, and not a servant, you can just refer to them by their titles.”
“I wouldn’t want them to suddenly start asking me for tea refills,” Adam said.
Lady Isla giggled. “No one could confuse you with a servant. You’re far too improper.”
“That hardly reassures me.”
“It’s a good thing,” Lady Isla said. “Servants’ duties are complex.”
“So is drinking tea,” Adam grumbled. “It would make more sense if you didn’t have to hold the saucer and just picked up the cup of tea.”
“That would leave the teacup more vulnerable to spilling.”
“That would allow one to have more control over the teacup in the first place. It makes me wonder why the British are considered experts in engineering.”
“They’ve had centuries of being impressive,” Lady Isla said loyally.
“I think it is a crown they will be unable to retain,” Adam muttered.
“Fiddle-faddle,” Lady Isla said, but she didn’t seem upset, and Adam was pleased to have distracted her.
She’d been tense when he met her today. This meeting was important to her too.
Finally, they disembarked from the carriage, and Adam looked up. The building was tall and white, as if it sought to be confused with one of the clouds that rolled majestically ahead. Columns flanked a cheerful red door.
“See? It looks like every other building,” Isla said reassuringly. “Nothing to be intimidated by.”
“But every other building here is magnificent,” Adam said miserably.
“It’s just one of the duke’s homes,” Isla said reassuringly. “He has many.”
“If you meant that to ease my nervousness, it does not,” Adam said icily.
“A certain degree of nervousness can be beneficial,” Isla said.
“Well, I’ve got buckets of it.”
Lady Isla giggled, and even though Adam was certain nothing could distract him from his nervousness of having tea with a duke and duchess, it seemed impossible to focus on anything except the sound of her laughter.
No symphony could rival it.
Adam surveyed the building. “This is splendid.”
“Callum is a very wealthy duke,” Lady Isla said.
Adam’s eyebrows shot together. He was certain unmarried women shouldn’t be referring to dukes by their first name. He glanced at Lady Isla, but her face had grown paler, and he decided not to ask her that particular etiquette question.
“I thought all dukes were wealthy,” Adam muttered instead.
“Oh, it can be frightfully expensive to be a duke,” Isla explained. “All those houses to maintain.”
“You’re certain this is a small one?” Adam asked.
“Well, their main estate is in Scotland. Was in Scotland, actually. But he has a townhome in London which is—”
“—even grander than this?”
“Precisely. One does require adequate space for balls,” Lady Isla said authoritatively. “And then Callum’s brother Hamish is designing a home for Callum and his new wife in Guernsey. They’ve been going there frequently.”
A wistful sound to her voice made him jerk his head in her direction, but before he could ask her more, the door swung open.
“Lord Tremont, I presume?” A man in a dark suit who had the same superior air as Lady Isla’s butler stared at him.
“Indeed,” Lady Isla said crisply.
“Ah... Lady Isla. It is a pleasure.”
For a moment the butler seemed less menacing, and Adam forced himself not to frown. He’d thought butlers might consider it a duty to always appear threatening, as if believing their positions stemmed from medieval guards, but the butler’s disposition was decidedly favorable toward Lady Isla.
Not that I can blame him.
Adam stepped onto a wooden floor. For a moment he was distracted by the glossy floorboards. The room was beautiful, matching his expectations of a ducal residence, if not matching Lady Isla’s casual indifference.
A footman appeared to help them remove their coats. Isla shivered, despite the roaring hearth in the hallway. Her fingers trembled, but her jaw soon tightened, as if to steel herself.
Adam’s chest hurt.
This is my fault.
They were visiting aristocrats, and because Lady Isla was with him, she was nervous. No doubt she worried he would instantly make a fool of himself, and by extension, her.
He tried to remember all the stages of tea. It was easy, he was certain.
There were so many things to remember, and perhaps his nervousness at the sumptuousness of the house caused Lady Isla unease.
“Isla!” A man called out cheerfully from the landing. “Sweetheart.”
Adam’s eyes widened, and he jerked his gaze upward. Behind the balustrade was a handsome man. He had a faint Scottish accent, much like Lady Isla’s own.
Was this the duke? Were they truly on such casual terms?
Adam’s fists clenched automatically. The duke was married. He knew that much.
The strange man descended the steps rapidly, uncaring as the sound of his Hessians ricocheted about the room.
“You’re here?” Lady Isla’s voice was faint, and her face paled.
Her words were...unexpected.
Obviously, the duke would be here.
Who then, was this man?
Adam scrutinized him carefully. Something about the man seemed familiar. He tried to remember if he could place the man from Mrs. Hollins’ ball.
He could not.
But there was definitely something about the man’s chiseled features, something about the man’s coloring, something about the man’s tall form—
He swallowed hard.
Lady Isla’s brother.
He’d known she had one. It must be him.
He just hadn’t expected to meet her sole male relative at a tea. Somehow, it seemed much more important that Adam perform well.
Had she known her brother would be here? Surely she would have mentioned it.
Adam cleared his throat, and Lady Isla widened her eyes, as if recognizing her etiquette misstep. Her cheeks pinkened to a pretty shade, and she turned toward her brother.
“Lord McIntyre, Lord Tremont.” She then turned to Adam. “Lord Tremont, Lord McIntyre.”
Adam nodded, but Lord McIntyre appeared less cheerful. His eyes narrowed, and he turned to his sister. “I see you’ve been making acquaintances in this town.”
“Er—yes.” Lady Isla inhaled and she widened her stance. The nervousness on her face vanished. Perhaps her brother had not even see it, given its brevity, but Adam had. “Indeed. I have decided to make a home here.”
The earl switched his attention to Adam. “I have not seen you before.”
“Hence my introduction,” Lady Isla said icily.
“Right.”
“Besides, that merely means he is not a frequent visitor at Hades’ Lair,” Lady Isla added.
“I don’t spend much time there anymore.” Lord McIntyre shifted his legs, and the floorboards below creaked. Adam much preferred stone. Stone didn’t creak, revealing moods like a gossipy neighbor. “My wife doesn’t approve.”
“That’s because she’s sensible,” Lady Isla said.
“Yes.” Lord McIntyre’s previously stern expression shifted, and his eyes had the dewy look Adam associated with the infatuated.
“What’s all this chatting?” A voice sounded from the landing, and then an equally tall, broad shouldered man appeared.
“Hamish!” Lady Isla gave a delighted exclamation and she bounded up the stairs.
“Isla!” The tall man swung her around. “Good to see you!”
“Lord Hamish and I grew up together,” Lady Isla explained. She gestured to Adam to follow her, and he did.
His chest tightened.
These people had known one another for years, and Adam was only here because he was feigning to be someone else.
Lord Hamish scrutinized him, and Adam forced himself to appear cheerful, even though he felt more nervous than when he’d first entered.
One time a baron had visited Cape Town. The newspapers had written about the impending visit, and when the baron had arrived, men had been issued to protect him.
These men were higher ranked than a baron. And yet, here he was, standing beside them.
“We mustn’t keep the duchess waiting,” Lord Hamish said.
Lady Isla’s smile wobbled. “I suppose not.”
“Before we enter,” Lord McIntyre said. “I have one question.”
“Oh?” Lady Isla’s voice squeaked. “Have you spoken with the solicitor? He didn’t permit me to purchase the home I’d selected. You must see him.”
“That’s not the question in my mind.” Lord McIntyre glanced at Adam. “How did the two of you meet?”
“Oh... We met at Mrs. Hollins’ place,” Lady Isla said.
“Yes. Yes.” Adam nodded enthusiastically.
Perhaps too enthusiastically.
Lord McIntyre’s eyes remained narrow, and Lady Isla strode hastily down the hallway. For a moment Adam thought she might be escaping altogether, but murmurings sounded as they neared a door.
Perhaps this was not the first time Lady Isla had visited the Duke and Duchess of Vernon.
She took Adam’s arm as they entered the room. She glanced at Adam, as if to reassure him, but he wondered later if it was also to reassure herself.