And he must have heard Regina’s panting as she fought to catch her breath after the mad dash, or perhaps something else alerted him to her presence,because he twisted around slightly. “No, look. It’s just a lady come to visit me.” He leaned in slightly and lowered his voice, calm and reassuring with only the tiniest bit of humor, as though to share a secret. “I think she’s rather cross with me and intends to take me to task.”
Her brown eyes large and blinking, the woman looked past him to Regina and studied her, possibly trying to determine if she was real or a phantom. “Are you courting her?”
“No.” He glanced over his shoulder at Regina and jerked his head to the side. “Would you pour her a brandy?”
Against the wall stood a small table with a single decanter and glass upon it. Striving to make sense of what she was witnessing, she did as he bade, her hand shaking slightly. She’d thought his mother was dead. He’d never mentioned her except for the once. What precisely had he told her then? She couldn’t recall.
After carrying the snifter over, she carefully lowered herself to the floor, managing to keep her balance because of all the times she’d done so with Arianna. Taking the offering from her, he placed it against his mother’s lips.
“Here, take a sip. It’ll help to calm your nerves and allow you to sleep.”
All the while, with distrust evident in her expression, the woman kept her gaze homed in on Regina. Finally she took control of the snifter from her son, sipped again, and released a slow breath, perhaps sending her fears on their way. “Are you going to introduce us?”
“Where are my manners?” he asked, as though theywere in a ballroom rather than a corner of a bedchamber where only a little while before he’d been striving to calm a terrified woman. “Allow me the honor of introducing Miss Regina Leyland, daughter of the Earl of Bremsford. My mother, Elizabeth Pennington, Duchess of Wyndstone.”
Regina smiled softly. “I’m honored, Your Grace.”
Her brow furrowed, she looked at her son. “Miss? Why is shemissif she’s an earl’s daughter?”
“Her mother was an actress, Bremsford’s mistress.”
“I think I remember hearing something about him and an actress... before... you know. She’s very pretty.” Shaking her head, she pressed her fingers to her mouth. “Forgive me, Miss Leyland. I’m talking about you as if you are not present and can’t hear what I’m saying. You’re very pretty.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.”
She shifted her attention to her son. “I’m so very tired.”
“Come on, then, let’s get you to bed. You should be able to sleep now.”
Regina watched as he set the snifter on the bedside table and then helped his mother—so tenderly it made Regina’s eyes sting—to her feet and into bed, pulled the covers over her, and lowered himself to press a kiss to her forehead. “You are safe, Mother. Here you are always safe. Have pleasant dreams.”
Then he turned and offered his hand to Regina, drawing her up so she was standing beside him. Immediately he released his hold and indicated the doorway. “Shall we?”
“Good night, Your Grace,” she said.
“Good night, Miss Leyland. I do hope you won’t remain cross with my son for long. He’s such a good boy.” She closed her eyes.
Regina led the way into the corridor. Knightly drew the door closed behind them. She carried on and walked into his bedchamber.
“Would the drawing room not be a better place for you to vent your anger with me?” he asked.
With all the emotions bombarding her, she didn’t know if any place in the entire world was well suited for finding the peace she sought. “I thought you might want to be near in case she calls out again.”
He released a deep sigh. “Thoughtful of you, but she should sleep now that her fears have been put to rest. So you took issue with my losing my box to Chidding in a card game. Is that what brought you to my door?”
“You don’t lose at cards.”
“I lost to you a little over two weeks ago.”
Truthfully, she no longer cared about the damned box. She had more pressing suspicions rampaging through her. “You told me your mother was dead.”
“I believe I admitted to not knowing if she was alive.”
“When did you learn she was?”
His intense gaze homed in on her, and she had the sense he was delving into her soul, or perhaps his own, striving to determine if she could be trusted, if he should reveal the answer. She wondered if he felt like he was standing at the edge of a precipice, and if he gave voice to the truth, he’d be flinging himself off it, not certain if she’d be there to catch him.I will catch you.
She didn’t know what prompted that unspoken vow, but she knew the veracity of it. For some reason, what she’d witnessed tonight seemed incredibly important. Something he’d discovered—she knew not when but certainly not before they were to wed. She’d heard no rumors of him courting anyone. He didn’t dance at balls. Mostly she saw him conversing with men, but seldom with women. A man who had once flirted with anyone wearing a skirt had become an enigma. Why?
