“Yes, Master Fancourt.” He hesitated. Then kindly, “Do not mind her greatly, sir. It is only that she is rather sentimental, I imagine, over this house.”
“She may stay here forever, if she wishes.”
“Without her son and husband, I do not imagine she could.” Mr. Wilkins started on.
“One more thing.” Already, Simon tried to retract the words, but they came out anyway. “Where is Miss Whitmore?”
“Waiting in the drawing room.”
“I shall see to her myself.”
“Very good, sir.”
Simon headed for the drawing room with a shake of his head. No, it was notvery goodat all. What was he doing? He must send her home at once.
Of course he would.
His only mistake was in not allowing the butler to do it for him.
Striding into the drawing room, an oddity stirred in his stomach. The same anticipation that roused him when he had his arrow aimed at a deer, or his paintbrush stroking canvas, or—
“Mr. Fancourt.” She stood from the edge of her seat, blond curls full and elegant about her face. “I was to arrive for dinner, but the carriage had difficulty on the way and I was delayed. I pray the meal is not yet finished?”
“The last course has not been served, but I fear Mother has retired early. She does not feel well.”
“I am sorry.”
“As is she.” He cleared his throat. Odd, that he felt the need to do so. “Are you hungry?”
“No.”
“Does the carriage need attending?”
“The manservant repaired it alongside the road. All is well.”
“Then I shall escort you out.”
She nodded, smiled, but something was amiss. Why had she truly come today? Surely, she knew of Mother’s plight. Did Miss Whitmore not understand she had been lured here with the intent of being persuaded into matrimony?
When they arrived in the anteroom, in the butler’s absence, he handed over her reticule and paisley shawl.
“Thank you.”
“You are welcome.” He opened the door, followed her into a dimming world that blinked with glowing night bugs.
She took a step down the stone stairs, back poised, as if nothing was the matter even though he knew it was.
“Miss Whitmore.” He touched her elbow without meaning to. Almost unconsciously, he pulled her down to the stone step, where he had not sat since he was a child.
He should not sit here now.
Not with a lady.
Mother would call him savage and society would deem him preposterous, but neither could see him now. What did it matter anyway? They had already formed their opinions of him.
Only Miss Whitmore found him guiltless.
Even now, as she sat next to him—a little startled, eyes a little wide with surprise—such an overwhelming gleam of trust and respect glowed on her face that his spirits were reinforced. “Something is wrong, Mr. Fancourt?”
