No.Heshould do something. He had more money and power than he knew what to do with and a reasonable amount of intelligence. If he truly viewed Percy as a brother, he should usethe gifts he’d been given to break the hold their grandfather had on Louisa and her dowry.
He would take the night to think on it. Tomorrow, he would go to them with a plan that would change Louisa’s future.
CHAPTER TWO
The next day, Louisa was sitting in the window seat of the little room that served as a combination morning room, library and private sitting room for the Skeffingtons when they were in town. Technically, the modest townhouse belonged to their grandfather, as did the horses and the carriage and all the other comforts of her life, but it had been nearly a decade since he’d come to London and she was used to thinking of it as her own home.
That had probably been a mistake. Spinsters were not destined to have comfortable lives. They were dependent on the charity of others as unwanted guests. She had a quiet moment of panic, thinking about her future in Wiltshire with Grandfather, before she pushed it out of her mind again. Right now, she had a book in her lap and another on the table beside her, along with a warming glass of lemonade, ready for the moment she finished the volume she was reading.
Some people might say that when confronted with troubles one needed to face them. One must either change the outcome or accept the inevitable. Louisa took an entirely different view. In times of stress, it was best to retreat into fiction and prolong dealing with the problem as long as possible.
There would be time to accept spinsterhood tomorrow and every day after that for the rest of her life. They were not leaving for the manor until the week’s end. She did not even have tobegin her packing for a day or two. Today, she need do nothing but explore a gothic castle in Italy and await the arrival of the handsome visconte from the neighbouring villa who would rescue her from the mad monk holding her prisoner.
Others might say this was just a silly gothic novel. But it was four volumes long. If she was lucky, it would fill at least two afternoons. That meant eight hours where she would not have to think about anything real.
When reality finally intruded and Percy left her behind in Skeffington Manor? She took a steadying breath. The house had a very large library. After twenty-two years of trying, she had not read even half of the books in it. Even if Grandfather expected her to dust woodwork and scrub floors with the maids, there would be plenty of hours left to read.
She turned the page and had settled down to begin another chapter when her brother appeared in the doorway and gave her a breathless smile. ‘Sorry to disturb you, Lou. But Bonham is in the sitting room. He wishes to speak with us.’ He paused for a moment. ‘You, particularly.’
‘Me?’ She looked longingly at the book in her hand, then closed it and forced herself to put it down. When they’d been in the carriage, she had resigned herself to the fact that she would probably never see him again. He had never visited Percy at their grandfather’s house in Wiltshire and was unlikely to do so in the future.
But here he was again, to say a formal farewell. A few minutes of his full attention was also a rare treat, even better than spending the time with her imaginary visconte. Daydreams were much sweeter if there was a tiny grain of truth in them. Someday, when she was feeling downtrodden, she would think back on the day when the Duke of Bonham had wished to speak to her ‘particularly’.
She would much rather embroider that scrap of an anecdote with hearts and flowers than sew it in silk on a linen handkerchief. To a skilled fantasist, a polite goodbye from a brother’s handsome friend might become a tearful parting accented with kisses pressed to hot palms and trembling lips.
What a dream it would be. She would be able to survive on it for months.
She tried to hide her eagerness as she rose and followed Percy to the front of the house. When they came into the sitting room, Bonham was standing by a window gazing out at the street. He looked quite splendid with the afternoon light picking out the copper in his dark brown hair and his perfectly tailored coat hugging broad shoulders that tapered to a slim waist. The bottle-green wool was a favourite of hers, for it brought out the green in his eyes.
He turned slowly to face them and smiled.
As usually happened when she was near him, Louisa’s mind went blank. She’d heard other girls admit that they had trouble speaking to handsome gentlemen. But did they also forget how to breathe, or was that problem only for her?
She did not want to sigh and leave him thinking she was a lovesick idiot. The way to get around sighing was not to breathe too deeply. But holding one’s breath would result in a gasp. If she remained caught between the two extremes, she could faint from lack of air. Moderation was the thing. Breathe in. Breathe out. Regular as the ticking of the clock, but not as fast.
In the seconds taken to ponder this, she lost track of her feet, stubbed a toe on the corner of the rug and tripped.
Before she could hit the floor, the duke’s arms shot out and caught her, setting her gently back on her feet.
‘Mind your step, Louisa,’ he said, not bothering to be formal.
‘Sorry, Your Grace,’ she said, then added, ‘Thank you.’
Louise sank into a wobbly curtsy hoping it would distract him from her embarrassed flush. It was one thing to look like an idiot and another to confirm the fact in front of everyone. At least when she was banished to Wiltshire no one would notice when she did things like this.
‘Let us sit down,’ the duke said, taking her arm again and leading her to a sofa as if they were in his drawing room and not hers. ‘We have much to talk about.’
They did? She couldn’t think of anything that needed discussing. Her grandfather had always insisted she was a dullard and painfully bad company. This memory would be so much sweeter if she could sparkle with wit for the few moments this interview would take.
Percy plopped down next to her, stretching his legs out in front of him. The duke took a chair opposite, pulling it forward so he could address them both. ‘Since Percy explained your situation last night, I have been thinking.’
‘My situation?’ she said carefully, trying to recall what they had talked about.
‘This matter of you ending the Season without a husband and being forced back home,’ he clarified patiently.
‘Oh.’ How utterly mortifying. He had finally noticed her, only to ruminate on her complete and utter failure as a woman.
‘I think it is most unfair of your grandfather to hold your circumstances against you.’
