“Very well,” he said gruffly. “When you see this buffoon, flirt with him discreetly.”
She grinned.
“You will not kiss him until an offer is made.”
She rolled her eyes, and he tugged almost angrily at his cravat.
“Chaste kisses,” he amended. “Only if you must. Long walks and all those things are perfectly permissible if you can bring him up to scratch. Now, if you will excuse me, I have an early morning meeting with my solicitor and must prepare a few drafts.”
“Do you require me to write while you dictate?” A thing she had been doing for him after discovering his appalling scrawl. His steward had actually thanked her upon the occasion of discovering the change in handwriting was hers.
His lordship sent her a black scowl. “I believe I shall manage well enough, Freddie. Good night.”
She padded over to him, tipped slightly on her toes, and brushed a fond kiss to his cheek.
“Good night, my lord.”
“Impertinent chit,” he muttered under his breath.
He held the door open, and she sailed through and hurried down the hallway and up the stairs to her chamber. Once in her room, she jumped on the bed and buried her face in the pillow. Tomorrow she would call upon the ladies at Berkeley Square. Her dear friend, Lady Charity, must be brought up to speed with this latest development. Frederica would confess her feelings to her and ask for her help. Charity would know what to do. Or perhaps even Theo, their fearless leader and quite a romantic soul herself, could give her the advice she needed.
Pushing from the bed, she hurriedly changed from her gown without disturbing the servants and slipped beneath the sheets. Frederica went to bed, holding onto the dream in her heart.
The following afternoon,Frederica visited 48 Berkeley Square and was disappointed to learn that Lady Charity had hastened to the country. To Dover, to be precise, and Frederica suspected it was concerning a particular earl her friend had fallen deeply in love with. Only a few days ago, they had sat in this very drawing room and discussed the merits of hopelessly loving a gentleman who might not feel similar regard for them.
Frederica did not like that she might be in a similar tangle. She groaned and pushed to her feet, uncaring to slip on her shoes. Strolling down the hallway, she passed the laughing ladies in the reading room, not tempted to peek inside. They were discussing Northanger Abbey, this week’s book club reading. She did look into the fencing room, smiling to see Henrietta vigorously practicing. She was happy to see her practicing fencing with their resident master. Hetty had been slow in learning but had really taken to it these past few weeks. Frederica herself loved fencing, but today she felt too out of sorts to partake in the exercise. She headed downstairs, nodding to several ladies and went outside into the back gardens where she spied Lady Prudence painting a watercolor of the gardens.
“You seem to have a lot on your mind,” Prudence said. “Would you like to sit and talk?”
Freddie smiled, “I do.”
She strolled over to the stone bench by a statue of Aphrodite and sat. Frederica sighed. “I have been thinking about what are reasonable lengths to go to for love.”
Prudence grinned. “I daresay we should go to extraordinary lengths and measures.”
Freddie arched a brow. “Even if those lengths are very scandalous?”
“Oh,” said Prudence, “those scandalous measures are the very best kinds. You do know I recently used erotic literature to seduce my own husband.”
They shared a smile, and Frederica admitted that she wanted to seduce her guardian. How astonished Prudence looked and then delighted.
“Seduce the Marquess of Wolverton?”
“He is only my guardian,” she said, laughing, not liking that her nerves pitched and roiled in her belly. “I am uncertain if he has any regard for me of a romantic nature. Is it not silly to plan someone’s seduction when they might only see you as a little sister?”
Prudence seemed to consider that. She lowered the painting brush and frowned. “Do you ever feel that he might be aware of you?”
She thought back to their recent interactions. “There are times…in very unguarded moments…when I’ve caught him watching me. What makes it so interesting is he looks away or walks away as if he is angry.”
“Oh, my,” Prudence said, grinning. “That sounds to me like frustrated longing on his part.”
Frederica straightened. “I could also simply annoy him. I tend to bring him gray hairs.”
Her friend laughed. “I have learned that men are extraordinary creatures who hide their emotions, their wants, and their desires even to their own detriment, especially when they have some silly notion as to why they cannot be with you. It cannot be ignored that the marquess is known to not have had a new lover in over a year.”
A smile touched Prue’s mouth. “ And Frederica, my dear, there is a reason for that. Are you not at all curious about it?”
Something sparked to life inside her chest. The marquess had had no lover for over a year, not just a few months? “Are you certain of this information?”
Prudence wrinkled her nose. “We cannot be certain. However, we know there is some truth in every gossip. The marquess is known as a rake about town, yet he has not been linked to any actresses, widows, or courtesans for some time now. Previously, the scandal sheets would always mention his name in attachment with one lady or another or some scandal. I think it is rather intriguing that he has been so unencumbered for so long. Think of that, and let it guide you in making your decisions.”
Frederica smiled, thanked Prudence, and went back inside. Perhaps she would indulge in a bout of fencing after all. Suddenly she felt lighter and more hopeful than when she had woken this morning. She would not give up on her desires, perhaps there was another way to get close to the marquess, and she simply had to find it.