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‘I don’t know...’ Elise gave a hopeless shake of the head. ‘I don’t know if he will allow the viscount an audience so he can explain. Oh...I don’t know what might come of it all, Beatrice. Papa might have already sent Alex on his way.’
Elise wandered to the window and looked out at the afternoon sunshine gilding the grass and the shrubbery where just an hour or so ago she and her sister and two handsome gentlemen had walked in pleasant harmony. Then, just for a fraction of time, she had deemed it possible that this might be one of the happiest days of her life; now her dreams had turned to dust. Her fears for her papa’s health were overriding every other anxiety whirling in her mind. She felt terribly guilty and that was frustrating because all of her actions in this dratted melodrama had been carried out with the purest of motives. The irony, of course, was that, had she simply curbed her boredom for a few months more, Beatrice would have been at home on the first occasion that Dr Burnett came to call on them.
‘Papa will never forgive me for getting you into trouble.’ Beatrice lifted her whitening face from a mopping hanky. ‘Are we all to be ruined?’ she whispered, aghast. ‘Will nobody ever want to speak to any of us again?’
‘No...don’t be silly...it won’t come to that,’ Elise promised in a heartening voice.
‘Why does the viscount not just pay Whittiker his money?’ Beatrice squeaked. ‘He is very rich and can afford it, I’m sure.’
‘Because it will not do.’ Elise sighed. ‘You know it will not. Alex has done nothing wrong other than agree to act as his friend’s proxy and meet Lady Lonesome. Besides, a blackmailer should be exposed and punished, not rewarded for his wickedness.’
Elise could tell that her sister was panic-stricken over the dreadful consequences of ostracism. Quite rightly Beatrice feared that her budding friendship with Colin Burnett might wither before blooming.
‘I didn’t go off to meet Mr Best. I don’t know why you thought I would.’ Beatrice sniffed. ‘I promised I would not go that night. You should have believed me, then none of this would have happened.’
Elise sank wearily on to the edge of her bed, her face dropping to rest in her cupped palms. How easily the finger of blame could spin and point away from its source. But there was truth in Bea’s accusation, too.
The sisters swivelled towards the door as they heard the light knock.
Betty Francis’s lined face and grey bun appeared before the woman stepped into the room. ‘Well...what a to do and no mistake.’ She puffed out her lips and shook her head. ‘I’m not about to pretend I’ve turned deaf...or daft. I’ve heard enough of your papa’s ranting and raving to get the gist of what’s gone on.’ She cast a gimlet eye on Elise. ‘The tall good-looking fellow...the viscount...he’s the one your father’s mad at, I take it?’
‘He’s done nothing wrong...’
‘That’s what they all say, Miss Elise.’ Betty crossed her arms under her bust. ‘Handsome is as handsome does.’
‘Is Lord Blackthorne with my father?’ Elise asked, rather fearful of hearing the answer.
‘He isn’t, miss.’ The housekeeper noticed the immediate flash of distress in Elise’s eyes and reassured, ‘Don’t you fret. He’s not gone away; he’s outside somewhere. Mr Dewey wants you to attend him in his study. That’s what I’m here to tell you, miss.’
Chapter Eighteen
From the landing Elise spied the top of Colin Burnett’s auburn head as he closed the door of her father’s study. Immediately she flew down the stairs to demand in a breathless whisper, ‘How is he, sir?’
‘I have given him a soothing draught and checked his pulse. He seems quite relaxed.’ Colin steered Elise away from the door to ensure his patient would not overhear them. ‘I tried to persuade your father to retire to bed for an hour or two, but he insists he is comfortable where he is in the large wing chair.’ He hesitated, tapping a blunt finger against his lips. ‘He wants to speak to you and the viscount. But whether together or separately...’ Colin’s warning grimace terminated in a sympathetic smile.
‘Where is Lord Blackthorne?’ Elise asked, feeling a trifle breathless at mentioning him.
‘I believe he went outside to talk to his tiger. I expect the lad is getting hungry and stiff if he has been balanced on his curricle for a time.’
