He pursed his lips. “Busy, you say? Then it will take a bit of doing to have Lily’s gown replaced by tomorrow.”
“Quite a bit,” Eloise said with a grin, obviously referring to the coin he’d have to spend to achieve the intended result. “Her prices are little more than sanctioned thievery.”
“I’ll no’ pinch pennies when it comes to setting things right with the lass. There’s also the matter of the book she intended to return to you today.”
“That might be a little harder to replace,” Eloise said, handing him another slice of plum cake. “You see, it was a first edition acquired by my husband shortly before his death. You know how he loved shopping for these little finds.”
Ewan’s heart twisted into a knot, understanding the sentiment attached to the book above and beyond the financial outlay. “I’m truly sorry. A greater loss than I imagined, for I can never replace the memory of his joy in its acquisition.”
“No, no, dear boy. He would not have blamed you, nor do I. In truth, I’ve never read the book and don’t intend to. My taste runs to gossip sheets and scandalous novels, but Lily gets such pleasure from my husband’s library. She’ll feel responsible for failing to return it to me in its proper condition, but I’ll assure her—”
“No.” He lifted his teacup as though it were a tankard of ale and gulped down the last of the liquid, which had now cooled. “I’ll set that right tomorrow, as well.”
“Nonsense, dear boy. I’ll stop by the antiquarian shops on Charing Cross Road sometime next week and see what they have available. It isn’t all that rare a book. I’m certain I will lay my hands on two or three copies in no time.”
Next week? Though he did not know Lily at all, he sensed she was the sort who would silently agonize until all was properly put back in place. He resolved to browse the bookshops as soon as he finished with Madame de Bressard tomorrow morning. Perhaps squeeze both chores in between his other responsibilities this afternoon.
Having devised a plan in his own mind, Ewan spent another few minutes reminiscing with his hostess and polishing off the last of the outrageously tasty plum cake. As he rose to leave, he wondered whether the duke’s kitchen staff at Lotheil Court was as talented as Eloise’s cook. He’d find out soon enough. “Eloise, I’ve enjoyed your company, but there’s too much left to be done before nightfall.”
“Of course, but here’s one last matter before you go.” She rang for Watling and instructed the man to bring in certain papers she’d left on her desk.
“What are these for?” Ewan asked as the butler returned and handed them over.
“The first sheets are letters of introduction to your father’s London solicitors, Dumbley and Sons, and bankers, Lord Guinn and Mr. Ashfield at the Royal Bank. I can vouch for both since my late husband and I have used their services for years. They still represent my interests.”
“And these others?”
Eloise took a deep breath. “I suspected that you were too caught up in your duties to think of these small matters, so I took the liberty of making lists of the best men’s clubs, tailors, employment agencies. You’ll need to acquire a valet. Obviously, you’re in dire need of one to dress you properly.”
“I do no’ need some Sassenach wanker—”
“Ewan! Your language!”
“Och, Eloise, I’m sorry. You know I do no’ belong here, dressing like a peacock and sipping tea with my little finger daintily pointed into the air. I can no’ tiptoe around, for I’m a big oaf. I’m already struggling to be on my best behavior, and even my best is abysmal. No matter, though. I’ll have work enough to keep me busy and out of trouble sorting out the last details of Father’s estate.”
She cast him an indulgent glance. “Of course. And I’ll busy myself entertaining Meggie. But I’ll have to make some tactical changes if you will not always be at her side. Would you mind if I introduced her to Lily? Encouraged a friendship between the two girls?”
He arched an eyebrow and laughed. “Do I have a choice in the matter?”
“I suppose, as her brother,” she said, but the determined gleam in her eyes warned that he didn’t really.
He nodded. “She’s about Meggie’s age and seems to be a steady lass.”
“She is. I’m sure Meggie will like all the Farthingale girls.”
“Are there more than just Laurel, Lily, and her twin?”
Eloise nodded. “Five of them. The twins, Lily and Daffodil.”
“Daffodil?”