Chapter Nine
Leland found himselfrather exhausted from his evening at the duke’s house. He’d never been to a dinner so full of unexpected events. An unwelcome aunt, an outrageous younger sister, a butler hiding behind curtains, Fact or Fib…and, of course, his ridiculous grandmother capping the whole thing off.
That particular relation just now sat across from him, swaying with the movement of the carriage. She was doing her best to stare at him intently, though three glasses of sack had made the attitude harder to master than it ought to have been.
“Well? Have you seen enough? Marry the girl,” the dowager said. “I won’t mind at all finding the duke a relation of mine, he’s jolly good fun.”
“Perhaps you’ve had enough fun for one lifetime,” he said drily.
“Nonsense. Now be quick about it, I feel the life slowly draining out of me.”
Leland did not answer. If she was tired, it was more likely the sack than an infirmity. He would deliver her to Miss Price and give the maid strict instructions to keep her mistress away from his door. He was in no mood to listen to her spouting nonsense while his valet desperately wondered how he could get out of the room without attracting her attention.
He had far too much to think about just now. Aside from all the bizarre happenings, he’d liked spending an extended time with LadyWinsome. She was so interesting! She’d had so many of the same opinions onGloaming at Glenford Crossthat he did. She’d not swallowed the narrative whole and simply accepted what the author directed her to. She had questions. Did that not point to a rather insightful mind?
As well, she had seemed very interested to hear of Stonewall Manor and the little tavern in Torquay. He almost got the feeling that she’d like to see it.
Then there were her looks to admire, they really were spectacular. He’d often counseled himself to avoid wedding a lady on account of her looks. Hers would fade, and, such as they were, so would his own. Then what would be left? Nevertheless, her beauty could not be ignored. Not with that dusting of freckles and golden hair he wished to run his fingers through.
And then, she had claimed the first thing she’d noticed about him was his urbane manner. That was rather good, was it not? She’d not hesitated to answer the question either—did that point to her having thought about it prior?
He felt closer to considering marriage than he’d yet done in his life. Though, he would keep that idea under his coat. He would not want his grandmother to get wind of it. Who knew what outrages she might commit if she thought something was in the works.
On the morrow, he intended to leave the house early as she would still be abed, and have his valet send clothes to his club. He would attend Lady Jellerbey’s candlelight picnic tomorrow night and he’d already confirmed Lady Winsome would attend too. His grandmother knew nothing about it, and he would not give her the opportunity to insist she go with him. He loved her in his own way, but he’d had quite enough of her recently.
“Here we are, home again,” his grandmother said. “Gracious, I am finding the Town invigorating. I wonder why I skipped so many seasons now that I’m here. What do we do on the morrow?”
“Nothing,” Leland said. “There is nothing on the calendar for themorrow.”
“We ought to go to the theater, then.”
“Come on, I’ll help you down,” Leland said, leaping to the pavement.
“I do not need your help.”
“Really?”
“Perhaps just an arm. I am old, after all.”
Despite needing “just an arm,” the dowager all but fell out of the carriage. He kept her on her feet and walked her inside. Though it was probably petty on his part, he hoped she had quite the pounding head on the morrow.
*
Mrs. Right hadgone above stairs to help Winsome out of her dress. Though, really, she’d been determined to warn her about the letter she’d found.
“Nobody seems to know if Mr. Wicket has left the house or not,” Winsome said. “At least, nobody seems positive that he has.”
Mrs. Right glanced at the door. “He has not, he’s around here somewhere. Lock yourself in when I leave. Just as a precaution, though I do not think he’d have the nerve to stray into the family’s private quarters. It’s just that…we can never quite pin him down.”
Winsome shivered. “I cannot think Valor will sleep a wink.”
“She’s perfectly fine. One of the housemaids is sitting in her room waiting for me to take charge of her, the little mite will be fast asleep by now. Then I will go to bed and be kicked all night. And not just by Valor either—that dog seems to have his own energetic dreams.”
“You will get him out, though? Mr. Wicket, you will make him leave?”
“Oh aye, I’ll think of something. Now, I did want to give you a bit of a warning that’s nothing to do with our newly acquired butler. Icame across some information, vague information but worth passing along all the same. It seems there may be a gentleman out there somewhere who is looking to secure a large dowry on account of gambling debts. Forewarned is forearmed, I always say.”
Winsome sank down into a chair. “Exactly what I was afraid of.”
