Ronan did not have much use for a valet to personally attend him since he was well able to bathe and dress on his own. He almost always wore his uniform even to the more formal functions. There was no fancy tie to drape into a perfect knot or awkward fastenings on his shirt that required the help of another person.
Still, no one had the heart to dismiss Harrigan. He suspected his mother would find a reason to keep him on even when there were no sons at home.
He watched the man leave, then debated whether to read for a while beside the fire or simply climb into bed.
He opted for the latter and was asleep before his head hit the pillow.
He awoke early the next morning feeling better than he had in a long while and climbed out of bed to peer out the window. The sun was shining, and the sky was a crisp blue which boded well for his walk with Dahlia. They would have a nice day if one did not mind the cold too much. In truth, he preferred this weather to the summer’s stifling heat.
One could always bundle up in winter, although he rarely did. He liked that bracing chill against his face. He’d endured some pretty bad winter storms at sea, sleet and hail pouring down on them, and a howling wind strong enough to rip sails if one were foolish enough to leave them unfurled.
A little bite to the air as they strolled through the park would be nothing to him. However, he hoped it would not be too much for her.
Ladies were not used to such hardships.
Dahlia, Heather, and Violet were ready and waiting for him when he arrived at John and Sophie’s home at the appointed hour. This was another thing he liked about the Farthingale women, they did not play the typical ton games taught to all debutantes. It would not occur to any of them to purposely keep their escorts waiting. “Good morning, ladies.”
He was usually surly in the morning, as were his brothers. No conversations took place until after they’d had their coffee and perused the newspaper. But seeing these three and their smiling faces brought home how different the sexes were.
“Good morning,” Heather said, looking up at him with big, expressive blue eyes. Robbie was right. She did look like a pixie.
Violet gave a little squeal. “I received a letter from Romulus. He’ll be home next week.”
He was genuinely happy for her. “That is excellent news. I’m eager to hear how he’s doing with those pirates off the Cornwall coast.”
“Innes will return with him. Do you remember him, Ronan?”
“Yes, certainly. The Duke of Buchan’s son serving under Romulus.” He shook his head and chuckled. “That boy will soon be Lord Admiral. We’ll all be hopping to his commands soon enough.”
Violet nodded. “He’s a sweet child. Exceptionally clever, too. I’m glad he’ll be with us for the holidays. He’d be miserable if forced to be with his father’s present wife. But I know he’ll miss his father. Just shows you how badly an unhappy marriage can affect everyone, not just the spouses. The duke knows Innes will be with us. I’m sure he’ll stop by as often as he can.”
Dahlia said nothing, but she had a beautiful smile for him.
Her manner turned pensive as they walked toward the park at this unfashionable hour. The main thoroughfares were already crowded, but the more elegant side streets and squares were much quieter. The Upper Crust did not stir until midday.
“You mentioned last night that you had a function to attend this evening,” Heather said, as they entered Hyde Park through the main gate near Apsley House. “Is it the same one Joshua plans to attend?”
He nodded. “Yes, the Earl of Liverpool is meeting with the senior members of the House of Lords and has invited the military liaisons to join them. Joshua, Robbie, and I had to accept, of course. It is obviously important for us to be present whenever budgets are discussed.”
Dahlia sighed.
He quirked an eyebrow. “What was that sigh about?”
“Nothing...well, it’s just that you’ve led an interesting life and have done so much with it already. But I’ve done so little.”
“Dahlia, first of all, you are still young. I was doing little more than swabbing decks at the age of nineteen.”
“You were already a junior officer and had probably been in several battles.” She paused and regarded him curiously. “Did you not go to university?”
“I spent a year at Oxford, but I left in my second term to join the Royal Navy. It’s in my blood. I could not sit in a classroom while England was at war. I suppose if ours had been a family of bankers, I would have graduated and then moved on to become an officious clerk seated behind a counter with a prune-faced expression as I counted pound notes and stamped documents all day. But Braydens have always been in the military. So that’s where most of us went for lack of knowing anything different.”
Dahlia shook her head. “You make it sound as though it is nothing. But your family is extraordinary.”
He laughed. “Considering all the Farthingale-Brayden matches occurring lately, I’d say you Farthingales are quite extraordinary, too. Although our families will have to stop marrying after this generation, or else we’ll be as inbred as the old royal dynasties of Europe.”
“Ugh!” Heather cried, “That is the most unromantic thing I’ve ever heard.”
He laughed. “Sorry.”
They walked along the Serpentine and then turned back to return to Chipping Way. Ronan considered mentioning his search for a new house but decided to put it off until later in the week. He wasn’t certain Miranda’s friend would accept to sell her house to him or that he would like it. He also wasn’t certain whether having Miranda help him search was one of his brightest ideas. It could very easily turn into a disaster.
Since he and Dahlia were now walking a little behind Heather and Violet, he took the opportunity to ask about the book. “I have some time today. Do you want to start now or wait a few more days?” He’d managed a quick word with Violet during their walk and knew she was more than eager to lend them her library for privacy any time they wished.
But Romulus would return next week, and he did not want to impose on their time alone. He was eager to start this very day.
“If that book can help me get over Gerald, then I’d like us to read it as soon as possible.”
“I’m glad, Dahlia. You deserve better than that weasel.”
They returned to Violet’s house, and Dahlia ran next door to retrieve it while they removed their cloaks and settled in the parlor for tea and a light repast.
Dahlia returned with the book shortly, her cheeks pink from the outdoors. She sank onto the chair beside his and handed it over. “Here, Ronan. I hope you have more luck with it than I’ve had.”
He tucked it on the seat between them. “Why do you say that?”
“Seriously? When was the last time you were humiliated in front of all your friends and family by a sweetheart caught...um...that...way? I’m sure it has never happened to you, nor will it ever.”
He saw that she was getting overwrought again and wanted to reach out to take her hand. But they were not alone, and Heather and Violet were hanging upon his every word. “I’m not suggesting it was well done, but it did get rid of the man who was clearly wrong for you. And there is no doubt he was wrong for you.”
“What are you suggesting? That this book brought it about?” She stared at the book’s faded, red leather cover and spoke to it. “Next time, try to be a little more subtle, will you?”