A Rival Heir by Laura Matthews Page A

from Miss Longstreet if he were to suggest a rented vehicle. He left his charges in the foyer and came out to meet his friend.
    “Drat!” Hopkins exclaimed. “Knew I should have gotten here sooner. Don’t tell me you’re leaving already, old fellow.”
    “Hopkins, you are in the very nick of time. May I borrow your carriage?”
    “My carriage?” His friend frowned, shaking his head. “But, Hugh, you have one of your own. Probably more than one. Yes, definitely more than one.”
    “But I need a carriage this instant in order to convey my godmother and her niece to their house in Queen Square. Why not come with us and I will introduce you to them?”
    Hopkins regarded him suspiciously. “This the old harridan from Westmorland?” he demanded.
    “Mind your tongue! She’s no more than six feet from here.”
    “Probably has ears as sharp as a dog’s, too. You may take the carriage, but I’ll not ride along, thank you.” Hopkins was conveying these instructions to his coachman when Hugh brought the two ladies out into the light of the flambeaux on the areaway. He blinked in astonishment at their old-fashioned costumes, but gave a very creditable bow nonetheless. “Servant, ma’am,” he said to Miss Longstreet. “Honored to offer you the use of my carriage.”
    Rosemarie Longstreet regarded it with a disparaging sniff. “Wouldn’t have needed it if my godson had any control over his servants,” she snapped as she allowed herself to be handed into the vehicle.
    Coming directly behind, Hugh saw Nell give one of her charming, slightly apologetic smiles to Hopkins. Hugh said, “Miss Armstrong, may I present my friend Horace Hopkins.”
    “How do you do?” Nell gave a little curtsy. “It was kind of you to accommodate us, Mr. Hopkins.”
    Hopkins, a rather short man, found himself looking up at the young woman. “Pray don’t mention it,” he insisted. “My pleasure.”
    After he had handed her into the carriage he turned to Hugh and said in a low voice, “My word, she’s the goddess Juno! You have the most remarkable relations, Hugh.”
    “I’m not related to either of them,” Hugh reminded his friend, sotto voce .
    “Those gowns…”
    “Years out of fashion, I know, but I rather thought Miss Armstrong’s suited her. Fanciful of me, perhaps.”
    His friend gave him an odd look but merely asked, “Shall I look for you back here in an hour?”
    Sir Hugh shook his head. “I believe I’ll call it a night. Thanks for your assistance, Hopkins.” And so saying, he climbed into the carriage and closed the door behind him.
     

Chapter Six
     
    Nell was intensely aware of the baronet, sitting opposite them during the short ride to Queen Square. Since her aunt seemed lost in her own thoughts, Nell took it upon herself to converse with Sir Hugh. She mentioned that they had looked through the Peerage and found it wonderfully entertaining.
    In the dim light that filtered through the carriage windows, Sir Hugh looked bemused. “Entertaining?”
    “Well, yes, for Aunt Longstreet remembers some of these people from her coming out many years ago. It fascinates her to find what has become of them, who married who, and who had which children. Then she tells me stories of them from their youth—and decidedly amusing stories they are.”
    Sir Hugh regarded his godmother, still deep in her own thoughts, with something akin to disbelief. “Somehow I find it difficult to picture the two of you bent over the Peerage, doubled over with laughter.”
    Nell grinned, relieved to find herself relaxing in his company. “Well, they are seldom stories to anyone’s credit, Sir Hugh, as you might imagine. But in light of the time that has passed, and the respectability of their current situations, we find the incongruity most delightful.”
    “Give me an example,” he suggested.
    “Ah, well, naming no names, but Aunt Longstreet told me of a certain peer of the realm, a viscount I believe he was, who had a penchant