He had to get home quickly. Not thinking about Eleanor was an impossibility. Fortunately, he was close to his street. A cat ran across the road, and he stopped his horses from shying just in time to avoid an accident with another carriage.

John had never been so happy to pull up in front of his house. Jumping down, he waited impatiently until one of the footmen had the horses’ heads and a groom had been called. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, my lord.”

Strolling up the walk, he went through the already open door, not giving his actions much thought. She had turned him upside down. “Send tea. I’ll be on the terrace.”

His butler bowed. “As you wish, my lord.”

“Have Pickerell call me when it’s time to dress for dinner.”

John didn’t wait to hear his butler’s reply as he ambled down the corridor to his study and out the French windows to the terrace. Someone had placed large potted plants along the sides, effectively providing him with a private terrace. A large, well-padded leather chair John had never seen before was there, next to a smaller version of the same chair. Small, square, plain walnut tables stood on either side of the chairs with one in between them. A large, rectangular table was in front of the chairs. Who had done this?

Lumner brought a tea tray. “My lord, is there anything wrong?”

“No.” John’s head was in a fog, but not from the tables and chairs. The tables and chairs were just as unexpected as Eleanor had been. “I have never seen this furniture before.”

“It has not been out for a few years. His lordship, your father, liked to sit out here when the weather was nice.”

“It looks to be a comfortable seating arrangement.” One that was perfect for thinking about Eleanor.

“I am glad you approve.” His butler put down the tea tray, then pointed to a bell on the table between the chairs. “A footman will be posted to listen for the bell.”