‘Good morning, Lady Winston,’ Sam said, standing as the older woman waved a hand for both men to desist with the formalities.
‘Aunt Tabitha,’ she insisted, not for the first time.
‘Good morning Aunt Tabitha,’ Crawford said, placing a kiss on her cheek before returning to his seat.
‘George warned me about your charm,’ Aunt Tabitha scolded and Sam had to suppress a smile. Crawford was irresistible to the ladies, whatever their age. He had that easy-going confidence that meant they just seemed to fall into his arms.
‘Now, have you boys been well looked after this morning?’
Nodding in unison, Sam wondered why he felt like a young lad again rather than a successful landowner of nearly thirty. Aunt Tabitha was no relation to him or Ben, but she treated them in the same way she did George, her nephew. The three men were like brothers, despite their different starts in life, but not many people saw fit to treat them that way. George Fitzgerald was a wealthy landowner, but his father had started life as the second son of an impoverished baron. To many people that title was important and they couldn’t understand why a man of good family, like Fitzgerald, would associate with two ex-convicts, however rich and successful they might be now.
Aunt Tabitha, however, accepted their adopted fraternity and treated all three men equally, albeit like errant youths.
‘Did I hear you’re going to call on the lovely Lady Georgina today?’ Lady Winston asked.
‘Yes, I thought I’d pop around after breakfast.’
‘My dear boy, one does not just pop around and especially not after breakfast.’
Sam grimaced. Of course there would be some long-winded social convention for paying a call on a young lady. There was for everything else after all.
‘Enlighten me, Aunt Tabitha.’
‘First, the proper hour to pay a call is some time after eleven, but definitely before three.’
Sam glanced at the clock at one end of the room. It was a little after eight in the morning. Waiting so long seemed a waste, but he supposed not the biggest inconvenience.
‘Then when you arrive at the house you must present a calling card to the butler, who will enquire as to whether the young lady is at home.’
‘Of course she’ll be home. She said she would,’ Sam growled, finding the whole thing a little ridiculous. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Crawford suppressing a laugh and shot him a warning glare.
‘Oh, she’ll probably be at home, but she might not want to receive you. If that’s the case, the butler will inform you that Lady Georgina is not at home to visitors.’
‘She’ll snub me?’
‘She might have had chance to consider the merits of your acquaintance,’ Aunt Tabitha said, patting him on the hand. ‘If she does accept your call, you will be shown into the drawing room, or another such receiving room where Lady Georgina will be accompanied by her mother. Twenty minutes of idle chit-chat later and you will be expected to depart.’
‘Sounds like a thrilling afternoon,’ Crawford said, slapping him on the back.
‘And her father?’ Sam asked.
‘Ah, yes, the Earl. You probably won’t see him, although if you are an honoured guest he might make a brief appearance.’
He was going to go through all of the palaver of trying to secure an audience with Lady Georgina and might not even catch a glimpse of the Earl for his efforts. Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself. Today was only the beginning of their second week in London, he had to remind himself, and already he’d made the acquaintance of Lord Westchester’s daughter. He had time to nurture the relationship, time to orchestrate a meeting with the Earl, time to initiate the first step in his plans for revenge. If he was going to get close to the Earl the first thing Sam needed to do was check the older man did not remember him. Sam knew he’d transformed from gangly child into a well-built man since the Earl last laid eyes on him, but some people surprised you with their memories. Once he was sure the Earl did not know his true identity he could start on the next step of his plan.
‘Why exactly are you so interested in Lord Westchester?’ Lady Winston asked, her face shrewd and her eyes narrowed.
‘It’s probably best you don’t know,’ Sam said, trying to make light of the situation with a grin.
‘You’re probably right,’ Lady Winston said with a sigh. ‘If you’re up to no good, the fewer people know about it the better.’
He was up to no good, but with good reason. Eighteen years ago Sam’s mother had been an assistant cook in the Earl’s household and on occasion took Sam to work with her to help with the odd jobs around the place. He had been accused of stealing Lady Westchester’s emeralds, and although there was no real evidence against him the Earl had used his influence to ensure Sam was convicted and sentenced to be transported to Australia. Soon after he’d started his sentence in one of the filthy hulk ships his mother and sisters had been struck down with a winter fever, meaning Sam not only lost his childhood and life in England, but also the chance to ever see his family again.
The Earl had become the focus of his anger over the years, especially as Sam was convinced he’d been framed by the older man, even though he wasn’t entirely sure why. Now he was back in England with the express purpose of exacting revenge and enacting a plan he’d been building for the past eighteen years.
‘If I have three hours before I may call on Lady Georgina, I think I will go out for a ride.’
Being newly arrived from Australia, none of the men had access to a horse and Lady Winston only kept enough to pull her ornate carriage. However, when she’d received word of their imminent arrival she’d arranged for them to hire a horse each for the couple of months they were planning on spending in London, declaring, ‘No gentleman should be without a horse.’ And no doubt cackling at her loose use of the word gentleman.
‘Don’t forget to change into your finest riding garb,’ Lady Winston called after him as he left the dining room.
Grumbling at the ridiculous way the English seemed to have a different outfit for each activity within the space of the day, he none the less changed into a pair of buckskin breeches, a long jacket and a pair of high riding boots. Although he had the strong urge to not conform with society, he didn’t want to stand out too much before he’d achieved his aim and got close to the Earl.
As he began to climb the stairs to his grand bedroom he found himself thinking of Lady Georgina. She should be nothing more than a necessary step in his plan for revenge, a way to get close to the Earl, but numerous times in the past twelve hours he’d found his thoughts slipping to the curve of her smile, the way her eyes had glimmered in the half-light on the terrace and the beautiful curves of her body. It would be no hardship to spend more time with her, but he had to keep reminding himself to focus. Eighteen years he’d waited for this moment—he couldn’t allow himself to be distracted by a woman, even if she was the first woman to hold his interest for a very long time.
With a furtive glance over her shoulder Georgina slipped out the back door and into the yard where Richards, the young groom, was waiting for her. She shouldn’t be out at such an hour, especially after such a late night, but always after a ball she found it impossible to sleep. The music was still ringing in her ears, the sips of champagne still fizzing in her blood and the lights and bright flashes of opulent fabrics filled her mind every time she closed her eyes.
Her mother would no doubt scold her later for not trying to get at least get a few hours of sleep before the first of the visitors came calling. At least she’d stopped reprimanding Richards for accompanying Georgina