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~May 16~

C hristopher was in his study late the following morning when his solicitor was shown into the room.

“Mr. Harrington, thank you for coming to see me on such short notice,” Christopher said, indicating the man take the chair across from him on the other side of his desk.

“Of course, my lord. I am always happy to be of service. And I have to say, I believe the sale of your building is going precisely to plan. The gentleman interested in purchasing, visited it the other day and seems to be quite satisfied with its location. Happily, he doesn’t care about the condition of the structure itself. Apparently, he is planning on tearing it down and building a house for himself.”

“Yes, it is regarding this building that I asked you to come today.” Christopher sat forward.

“Er, yes, my lord?”

“Tell me more about the building,” he said.

The solicitor’s eyes grew wide. “I, er, in what way, my lord? What are you interested in knowing?”

“Where it is? What is it currently being used for? Who occupies it now?”

The man visibly swallowed. “It’s just next to Hyde Park. It’s been occupied by and used as a military hospital—”

“I knew it!” Christopher jumped to his feet, unable to stay still.

Mr. Harrington stood as well. “My lord?”

“Friends of mine mentioned last night that they were beginning to raise funds to save St. Camillus Hospital as it’s being sold. I thought that couldn’t possibly be the one and same building I’d just put up for sale, but I had to ask. I had to find out. And it is. I own St. Camillus Hospital!”

“Er, well, not the hospital itself, but the building in which it is housed, yes.” The man looked slightly terrified.

“Cancel the sale, Mr. Harrington. Cancel it immediately. I am not going to sell a military hospital and throw injured soldiers out onto the street.”

“But, my lord, your buyer—”

“We have signed no agreements as yet,” Christopher pointed out.

“Well, no, but it’s understood…”

“Then tell him that it is no longer understood. Unless he plans to keep the hospital operating in the building—and you’ve already said he plans on tearing it down—then I will not sell. That is final. Do you understand?”

“Yes, my lord. Er, what about the money you needed?” the solicitor asked nervously.

Christopher just shook his head. It was a shame. It was going to be extremely disappointing for poor Mr. Fitzwalter, but there was nothing Christopher could do about it. “I will just have to give that up, and the gentleman I was going to invest with will have to understand.”

~May 17~

"I'm perturbed! Perturbed, I say!" Mr. Sherman strode toward the windows of Ellen’s drawing room and then back again.

"But, sir, the building is a hospital. You couldn't have wanted to throw those poor, injured soldiers out onto the street," Ellen exclaimed. She'd been watching the gentleman pace ever since he strode into the room just a quarter of an hour ago. For the first five minutes, he'd hardly been able to say a word; he'd been so agitated. The next five were spent explaining the situation to her, and the last five or more he’d simply paced.

Ellen had immediately realized that the building Mr. Sherman was talking about, and the situation Lord Pennyston said he was in, were one and the same. She felt awful—for both men.

"No, of course not! I would never have done such a thing," he said, aghast.

"Well, then, it was entirely right for Lord Pennyston to have canceled the sale."

"Well, one would have expected him to have made other arrangements for the soldiers before he even put the building up for sale," Mr. Sherman huffed.

"I cannot deny it is what he should have done," Ellen admitted, still not completely understanding how an otherwise upstanding and thoughtful gentleman such as Lord Pennyston had not conducted his business in a more responsible manner.

"And because he did not, I have to suffer." Mr. Sherman said, still clearly unhappy.

Ellen did her best to hide her smile. Despite the fact that the man was upset, she did think he was being slightly hyperbolic. “Are you suffering?” She swallowed a giggle. It would not do to make fun of a gentleman in such a situation.

“What? Can you not see how I suffer?” He stopped and stared at her in shock.

“I do beg your pardon, sir. You are clearly upset, but does the loss of the building truly upset you so much that you are indeed suffering? I am sorry to say, I know suffering. I’ve seen many soldiers in desperate conditions—arms and legs missing, heads bandaged—”

“I most certainly do not claim to be suffering as they,” the man sounded aghast, Ellen was pleased to note. “On the other hand… well, let’s just say I am severely disappointed.”

“That sounds so much more reasonable. Thank you for clarifying that for me.” Ellen did give him a smile. He bowed slightly in return.

“It is just that I had been hoping… well, planning,” he said, suddenly unable to fully enunciate exactly what he meant to say.

“Planning what you would to do with the building?”

“Yes,” he said tragically. He dropped down into the chair opposite Ellen. “Mrs. Rutledge isn’t going to be home anytime soon?” he asked, looking so unhappy at the thought that he’d missed her.

Ellen could only shake her head. “I wish I knew. She didn’t say where she was going.”

Mr. Sherman heaved a sigh, as if the world were collapsing around him.

“So, what were you going to do with the building, may I be so bold as to ask?” Ellen cocked her head. She was, in fact, immensely curious as to what one would do with a such a large building—aside from using it as a hospital, naturally.

A smile played on Mr. Sherman’s lips. “I was going to tear down the current structure and build a magnificent house.”

“Oh, how lovely. For yourself and your daughter?”

He lost his smile. “Gwendolyn? No, of course not. She’s going to be happily married and living in her own home soon enough if I have anything to say about it. No, it was going to be for me and…” He paused and narrowed his eyes at Ellen. “You won’t say anything, will you? This is… well, it’s rather confidential information.”

Ellen raised her eyebrows at that. “I give you my word. I shall reveal this to no one.”

He seemed satisfied with her answer for he gave a brief nod and then admitted, “Well, it was to be for me and Mrs. Rutledge.”

“Aunt Amelia?” Ellen exclaimed.

He nodded sadly. “I was going to surprise her with it as an engagement present—assuming she agrees to marry me. But now… how could I possibly even ask her to marry when I have no home here in London? She deserves the best, most magnificent home. And this one she could have designed herself—with the assistance of the best architects in London, of course.”

Ellen stayed quiet for a moment, thinking about this. Somehow she simply could not see Aunt Amelia running a fashionable, magnificent home such as Mr. Sherman described. She just didn’t seem to be that sort of person. “Have you discussed this with her?”

“What? No! Of course not! It was to be a surprise. And then when I learned the sale had been canceled, I came here to ask her for just a little more patience. I need to find another property. You are certain you don’t know…”

“You were going to tell her about it today?” That was surprising, to tell someone of such grand plans only after they’d been withdrawn.

He nodded. “I thought I might.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Do you think I shouldn’t? Perhaps I should simply find another plot of land. Although, that’s not easy, not at all. Mayfair is altogether too well-developed. It’s hard to find a house or building to purchase in this area. That is why I was so…”

“Of course, but…” Ellen paused and considered her words carefully. “You are aware that Aunt Amelia is very much looking forward to moving back to America, aren’t you? She talks about it quite frequently. Surely, she’s mentioned it to you?”

“Yes, of course, but between her inheritance—which she cannot receive if she’s not living here in England—and this grand house, I was sure I could convince her to stay.”

Ellen felt truly bad for this poor man. He clearly had great plans. “Still, I can’t help but feel that a fantastic house wouldn’t have swayed her. She’s really not the sort…”

He frowned at her and then sighed once again. “I suppose you are right. But, then, how can I convince her to marry me?”

Ellen was never so relieved to see Aunt Amelia come into the room. She hadn’t known what to tell Mr. Sherman. Oh, she had some ideas, but she didn’t know how well he would take them. She was much younger than he, and it really wasn’t her place to tell him how he should live his life.

He closed his mouth shut with an audible snap and jumped to his feet the moment Amelia’s foot came through the door.

“Harry!” Amelia exclaimed, coming to a halt. “What a lovely surprise! I hope you haven’t been waiting long.” She proceeded into the room, pulling off her gloves.

He came forward and placed a chaste kiss on her cheek, which nearly had Ellen’s eyes popping from her head. They were that intimate? She hadn’t realized. Well, yes, he was thinking of proposing, but still…

Amelia smiled up at him, making Ellen absolutely certain that the two were going to make a very happy couple—once he figured out his way around his own nerves. She was certain he would do so with aplomb and hopefully soon.

~May 18~

Diana had just come in when Lady Ayres called for everyone’s attention. “Ladies, we have had a special request this afternoon. Before we start our usual game of whist, Mr. Sherman has asked for a few moments of our time. Is there anyone who objects to assisting the gentleman?”

Ellen couldn’t imagine that any of the members would ever be so parsimonious as to turn away a gentleman in need of their help. She and the others all look around to see if any were. No one said a word.

“Right, then,” Lady Ayres said. She gave a nod to the footman standing inside the door. He immediately exited and returned a few moments later with Mr. Sherman. Ellen had never seen the sturdy-looking gentleman look so nervous. He bowed stiffly to everyone and then cleared his throat a few times.

“Would you care for some tea, sir?” Lydia offered.

He gave her a grateful smile. “No, er, thank you, Lady Welles. I, er, well, I have never applied for assistance from a group of women before.”

“Don’t think twice about it, Mr. Sherman. We have this affect on many gentlemen. You are not the first to be nervous,” Lady Blakemore said indulgently. Ellen wondered if she’d meant for her words to ease the man or just point out that he wasn’t the only one to be in such a state.

He did manage to pull himself together, though. “I, er, it has been pointed out that my plan on how to propose to, er, a lady of my acquaintance—”

“Mrs. Rutledge, we presume,” Lady Gorling interrupted.

“Er, yes,” he said. His cheeks took on a rather flushed hue. Ellen felt sorry for him, but he cleared his throat once again and persevered. “I was planning on purchasing a plot of land for her, er, for Mrs. Rutledge, and giving it to her as an engagement gift to build a grand house for us.”

“A plot of land on which currently stands the St. Camillus Hospital for Wounded Soldiers,” Ellen pointed out.

“Er, yes, but in my defense, I did not know that until yesterday,” he said quickly.

“Quite true,” Ellen acknowledged.

“I’m sorry, but you were going to buy Mrs. Rutledge a house, is that right?” Duchess Bolton clarified.

“Yes. It was to be a very grand house. It’s quite a large plot of land. I’ve already spoken with a number of architects,” Mr. Sherman said.

“But I cannot imagine Mrs. Rutledge, of all people, would appreciate such a thing. She’s a rather plain-spoken, unpretentious sort of woman,” Lady Sorrell commented.

“I have already pointed this out to him,” Ellen told everyone.

“And I completely understand and agree,” Mr. Sherman said quickly.

“But then, what made you decide to give her this house?” Diana asked. “Since you knew she wouldn’t like it, it doesn’t sound like a very good engagement present, if you’ll excuse me.”

“No, no, you are absolutely correct,” Mr. Sherman agreed. “I just… I don’t know what else to do. How am I going to entice her to marry me if I don’t give her something magnificent like a house?” He looked completely perplexed for a moment and possibly even slightly defeated. Poor man.

“Ah, I see now. You have come to us to help you decide on how to propose to Mrs. Rutledge,” Lydia nodded.

“Yes, precisely. When I proposed to Mrs. Sherman so very many years ago, I built a house for her and promised she would never want for anything. Based on that, her father agreed to allow me to marry her. She was in favor of the match, and we were very happy for many years. Mrs. Rutledge, on the hand, wants for nothing. She is an independent lady. She already has a home with Lady Moreton. She has her inheritance from her father. She doesn’t seem to need anything. I don’t know what to offer her.”

Ellen glanced around the room. Almost everyone was either smiling broadly or doing their best not to simply burst out laughing. It was so obvious to each and every one of them what was so unclear to this gentleman. No one seemed about to jump in to explain things to him, so Ellen did. “Mr. Sherman, you do have something I presume Aunt Amelia wants a great deal, something she doesn’t already have.”

He looked eagerly to hear what she had to say, even taking a step forward toward her.

“You,” she said simply.