they do travel that way over there, their horses are not as good for riding … or it might be the way they make their saddles…”
Walter listened with attention as Henry went on to describe some of the strange animals of the Far East, even going so far as to loudly imitate the sounds that one or two of them made, not caring at all that they were in a public place. Then again, even when Walter was a boy, Henry had always been an animated person.
When Walter had finished eating, he looked at his pocket watch and nearly jumped out of his chair. “I am sorry, Henry, but I must go! The ball at Burford Manor starts within the next hour, and you know how Mother is about being on time.”
“Yes, do not think about it for a moment; get out of here and hurry off to your scolding,” Henry told him in a teasing manner as they waved farewell.
They both knew, while the late Lord Bartlett had always used to look the other way if his son was late, Lady Bartlett was far stricter in that area, and never overlooked tardiness.
Walter asked the coachman to go quickly, and the man willingly used his whip to hurry the horses, shortening the time of their journey home, and Walter was soon hurrying up the steps and to his room.
“Are you just arriving, dear?” he heard his mother ask from her room, where she was no doubt getting ready.
“Yes, but I will be ready on time,” Walter replied without stopping. Soon he was in his room and out of hearing. Rushing through his preparations, he was soon down the stairs and by the front door once more, where he found his mother already waiting for him.
“Come now. I would tell you to go and straighten yourself up and then come back down, but there is no time for that now,” she told him as she took his arm and hurried him to the carriage.
The moment they were inside, Sylvia began to straighten his clothes, smooth his hair, and attend to other small details about his person. “You did say you would be on time, Walter. Really, you are a grown man, after all. What is your excuse this time?”
“I ran into an old friend. Do you remember Henry Lucas?”
Sylvia sighed. “Yes, I remember him. As I recall, he was the cause of your being late more than once before he left, and even caused your own father to be late once or twice.”
“And that is what you remember him for?”
She raised her eyebrows at him, as though to ask what other reason there could be. “We shall be there soon. If the Viscount’s daughter is occupied elsewhere, you must ensure you are still introduced to her.”
“I will, Mother,” he assured her.
“Though they may be a rank above us, I do not doubt they will consider you a good match for their daughter. I have heard one or two of her older brothers are known for frequenting the gambling tables.”
“So, you feel they won’t mind about us being a step lower in rank, since our income is possibly larger than theirs?”
“Oh, I have no doubt our income is greater. Your father did extremely well in that area and invested wisely. You are still of noble rank, and you have an excellent reputation, with no terrible vices. They can have no objection at all.”
“I am pleased you think so highly of me, Mother,” Walter replied half teasingly and half sarcastically, as they arrived at Burford Manor.
Stepping out of the carriage, they were escorted by a butler to the drawing-room, where their coats were taken. Standing nearby, were the Viscount and Viscountess.
“Good evening, Baron Bartlett, Lady Bartlett,” Viscount Burford said in greeting to Walter and his mother.
“Good evening, my mother and I are pleased to be here, Lord Burford, Lady Burford.”
“And we are equally pleased to see you are back from France and able to attend. May I introduce my daughter, Clarissa?” the viscount said, motioning to his daughter standing nearby.
“It is my honor to meet you, Miss Rutherford,” Walter told her with a bow, noting her small size, auburn hair, and brown eyes.
Those eyes were highlighted as she fluttered her eyelashes at him as she curtsied. “The pleasure is mine, Lord Bartlett.”
Walter noticed she glanced at her mother before asking him, “Shall we take a turn around the room while we wait for dinner to be announced, Lord Bartlett?”