Chapter Fifteen
Winsome had spentthe past two days waiting for Lord Manderbey to come to the house. He had not come though. She supposed she understood why. First the rumor that she’d been compromised by Lord Landry, that gentleman just now injured and unable to dispute the idea. Then the banns supposedly being read for a wedding between Lord Manderbey and Lady Edith.
He must be very out of sorts. He might even believe that she’d been compromised. And even if he did not, he would not like the gossip. He was to be a duke and would take that seriously. She had learned through observation that other gentlemen were not as freewheeling and freethinking as her father.
It was likely Lord Manderbey would not wish to be associated with such talk.
She supposed she would have her final answer at the masque. Perhaps he would not come. Or worse, he would come and cut her, as if he’d never known her. She did not know if she could bear that. She’d end up in the ladies’ retiring room again, wiping her tears and not much caring if somebody locked her in.
Valor lounged on the sofa with Sir Galahad. “I guess you hate him now, so you can’t get married,” she said, clearly working to keep the glee from her voice.
“I very much doubt I will wed this season,” Winsome said morosely.
“Don’t worry about it. I bet Lord Manderbey never bothers you again. I bet he just goes away. When he realizes how you feel, he’ll just go away.”
“Valor, nothing has been said between us. He can have no notion of how I feel.”
Valor shrugged. “Maybe he does.”
Winsome sat up straighter in her chair. “How?”
Valor put her attention on Sir Galahad and said softly, “I’m knitting my dog a blanket.”
“Valor. How would Lord Manderbey know how I feel?”
Her sister looked off into the distance as if she were divining the question. “Well you were mad. At least, it seemed like you were.”
“Did you write another letter?” Winsome asked aghast. Valor’s letters were atrocious and always caused their own particular trouble.
“Maybe,” she muttered.
“But how? Charlie and Thomas have been told not to deliver any more of your letters.”
“I disguised my handwriting and put it in the post. I doubt they even looked at it, but if they did I used Papa’s seal so they would think it was from him.” This was said with a certain amount of pride.
“What did it say? You must tell me exactly what it said. Oh Valor, I already have enough problems, I really did not need this on top of everything else!”
Her sister’s eyes welled. She cried, “Well, I can’t talk about it now that you’re so mad!” She leapt from the sofa and fled the room, Sir Galahad trotting out behind her.
Winsome sat back. The problems were just piling up with no end in sight and Lord Manderbey had not come to the house. Now he was in receipt of a letter from her sister and heaven only knew what Valor had written.
She’d been very much perplexed when her older sisters had run into one thing after another during their own seasons. She was a lot less perplexed now.
*
Leland was entirelyfed up with the slow passage of time. He’d sent one of his footmen over to Landry’s house several times, but the news was always the same—the fellow remained unconscious, the physician was with him night and day, and his condition was very much touch and go.
He could hardly believe that the fellow had managed to injure himself so severely. What had he done? Thrown himself down headfirst? For all that, he wished Landry a speedy recovery. Or at least to wake up for an hour so he could explain what had gone on at the scavenger hunt. Leland was all but convinced that Landry could clear it all up in a moment. If only he were awake.
There had been no news of Lady Winsome returning to Town and he could not be entirely certain if she would return for Lady Darlington’s masque. He rather thought she would. The duke was not one to run from a rumor and the best thing a lady who was talked about could do was stare down the talkers. Staying away would seem a confirmation of the tale more than anything.
The masque was in two days’ time and it could not come too soon. He would go. If Lady Winsome were there, he would speak to her in private as soon as he saw her. If she were not, he’d have to figure out where in Kent she went and follow her there.
Richards came in with a letter. “This just arrived, my lord. It was sent through the penny post and I believe the seal is from the Duke of Pelham, so I thought you’d want it right away.”
She was back. He thought it would be so, though he was surprised she would have written him. He took the letter, and Richards closed the doors behind him.
As he read through it, he felt alarm run through him. She hated him? He was a rogue?
