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The driver finally came around and opened the carriage door. He had a grim expression on his face. The newly opened door invited a foul stench of human odor, smoke, and rot, feces, and lime from the tanneries. The cluster of buildings was far denser here than in the nicer parts of London, and Thomas couldn't imagine how any plant could grow in these parts much less someone as rare as a tropical flower. "My lord, it's the carriage wheel. You'll want to see this." The earl nodded tersely. He didn't know how much the butler knew about coaches, not that he'd want to ask someone else's servant to survey damage he could assess himself. "Give us one moment, Mr. Giles. With luck, this is only a small inconvenience."

He stepped out onto the street. The muck hadn't been removed as much as it had been pushed down into a solid mass between the cobblestones and pushed aside to the edges of the street. He was grateful for his boots and the dark color that mostly hid how dirty they were about to become. The tanneries, much as Thomas loathed the noxious smell, were a necessity, and his clothes, horses, and occupation would be worse off without it. He stepped around the horses to check the damaged wheel. The nut had come loose and cause the wheel to slip. That was an easy fix. What wasn't going to be easy was the metal rim. The screws were missing, but rather that continuing to roll and hold its shape, it had gotten caught on something and twisted away. That would require the repairs of a blacksmith.

"Will you be able to get us back to Mayfair with the florist's directions?" He was hoping that the written directions to this Indian florist were still accurate. "Yes, my lord. We are close. She is but a couple streets further down."

"You will search for the nearest blacksmith. The repairs aren't nearly so difficult that we won't be able to get home in good order. But it is beyond the ability of a repair in the middle of the street. Mr. Giles and I will stay with the horses until you return. And then, you will accompany the blacksmith to get the carriage repaired while we complete our errand." The decisive nature of a military leader was just as important on the battlefield as being an earl directing staff.

Thomas returned to the carriage and stood by the open door for a second before climbing back inside. "The iron rim is twisted. We're not too far from the florist, so we should still be able to get the flowers for Lady Caroline. My driver is going to find a blacksmith to repair the wheel. He'll have to move the carriage out of the middle of the road first." As if on cue, the carriage bumped sharply as the driver led the horses forward a few paces. It then stopped, and the carriage was at a sharper angle than before. The wheel was very close to coming off. "I apologize for the delay and inconvenience, Mr. Giles. This was not at all how I planned on the day going. If the Cowpers try to give you any trouble, I have no objection in standing in your defense."

"That would be appreciated, miss. I don't wish to intrude on his house without his knowledge." Thomas awkwardly limped to the couch and fell heavily into it. The pain in his ankle was only worsening, and he couldn't be sure anymore if he had in fact broken it. "Tea would be lovely. Two sugars and milk." From the way she spoke and carried herself, he felt certain that she was a servant and not a member of the family.

Thomas reached down and tugged hard on his boot. Though, from his angle, it was easier to slip on than slip off. He doubted his ankle could take the force of a boot remover. "You'll have to help me remove my boot. I can feel my ankle's swollen. Preferably before the tea." He winced from the pain and settled with his good leg bent correctly for sitting properly and the other outstretched to avoid putting more weight on it. Part of him hoped that he wouldn't need a doctor. He thought he could wrap his ankle well enough on his own with his cravat, but then he couldn't very well leave the house with only one shoe. And he certainly wouldn't be able to get home without calling for a carriage.

The earl let out a long breath to hide his frustration at his predicament. Worst of all would be if he had to stay here while his ankle recovered enough to bear weight. That could take days, and he didn't want to inconvenience the family for that long.

For Thomas, title and wealth meant little. He knew he was supposed to care. He was supposed to think about his family' reputation and their position in the ton. It's certainly what his father did when he married Margaret. It wasn't love at first sight or even in the first several years of their lives together. But they did come to love each other. For Thomas, he wanted a match with someone he connected with. He knew it wasn't likely to be at first sight much as he hoped it would be. Such dreams were best left to fairytales and novels. But he believed that he'd know when he'd found the right woman. Without the pressure to marry quickly or even for status.

Mr. Williamson dragged him away from Caroline and spent the rest of the evening introducing him to various members of the ton. Men, all of them, and several were also members at White's. But Caroline remained in the back of his mind for the rest of the evening. He didn't dance again, but given how he was pressed for story after story of his time living abroad, no one could really fault him. And when the night finally came to an end, he returned to the bleak land away where hope and dreams faded back into reality. His sister returned to her home closer to Westminster.

He did call on her as promised and came carrying a bouquet of lilies. They weren't the exotic flowers he hoped for, but that would come another day. He wanted to be sure that she was someone he could see himself with. That she could be the countess that he wanted. He was dressed well in a fashionable dark blue and matching trousers. His tailor suggested them as a way to look more fashionable and less military than white breeches. "Yes, I am. Lord Warrington. I believe she's expecting me." He was polite and direct to the butler. He'd sent a card the previous day again offering his regrets that he couldn't call on her and assuring that he still intended to.

The butler led him to the drawing room and ushered him in. Thomas smiled and bowed seeing Caroline again. She was just as pretty in the daylight as at night. "Lady Caroline, it's a pleasure." With everything being done properly, he knew they weren't alone. The call couldn't last for very long even if he was the only suitor, and the subject of conversation was carefully controlled. Today was a chance for her to show off her feminine qualities and skills as much as it was for him to woo and impress her. A servant took the flowers and set them down on the table near her, and Thomas took his seat. "I trust you've been well the past couple days, my lady. I'm still seeking out some Indian blooms, though I don't imagine it will take too long." Out of politeness, he left the topic of conversation to her and her interests.

Tagged: @caroline

"My younger sister was much like you at your age. At the beginning of the season, she had a tendency to fall ill more evenings than not. Headaches, dizziness, bouts of nausea. Anything that could inconvenience her enough to need to stay at home and rest for the night, but not so serious as to require the services of a doctor or last more than a few hours. Once, she burned her hand on a candle and claimed that it would be too painful to wear a glove, so she wouldn't have to attend a ball. My friends and I used to write each other invitations to various functions--left handed so as to avoid recognition--and then spent the night out at a pub or someplace else away from the rest of society."

He knew full well what he was doing suggesting ideas for ways to get out of events while still claiming to have done no such thing. His older sister was eager for the Season and enjoyed the parties and functions. Thomas and Sophia were cut from the same cloth and detested the stiff formality and imposing requirements of duty. The ability to choose what he attended was a recent change, and one he greatly enjoyed. The quiet nights spent drawing and sipping a fine glass of wine was relief even in a quiet and lonely house.

"Often enough. I've trained soldiers and staff. Once you feel comfortable with Tristan, I'll start bringing out other horses and carriages. They handle in a similar manner, but they feel different. Even without knowing exactly what your family has and the temperaments of the horses, I want you to feel confident to be able to harness and drive any horse that's trained for it." Ideally, she wouldn't need him at all by the end and they could carry out their lives. They only needed to see each other as long as it took for her to be a competent driver. She was a quick student, so he couldn't imagine it taking too long once she got the overall hang of it. Tristan was a good horse to start on. Pelleas was prone to laziness without a bit of encouragement, and Accalon was too eager in the harness as a pair and often needed to be checked so that he wasn't dragging the other horse. Dapple greys, all of them, and the late earl's one concession to fashion was to have a matched set of horses at all times. Chestnuts, bays, and white horses were easy enough to obtain. Markings could be painted on to make them look more matched. But dapple greys came in a wider range of shades. Six matched horses was an impressive feat.

Tristan started to drift towards the edge of the road again, and his feet dragged with the long straight stretch. Thomas kept quiet, though he noticed the slight change as the stallion dropped his head and shoulder. This was her chance to notice the change and correct it first. And if not, then the buggy wheel bumping at the edge of the road was a more noticeable hint. If it came to that, it wasn't great for the recently repaired axle, but Thomas felt confident enough that it wouldn't break a second time.