But then he got to the signature and clarity swept in to wash thealarm away. The only person who he’d heard call Lady Winsome “Winny” was her younger sister, Valor. That little lady was also strongly opposed to her sister leaving the house. According to St. John, that young miss was currently away from the supervision of the duke and staying with a sister. Furthermore, it seemed a bit odd for a lady as sophisticated as Lady Winsome to write such a badly composed letter. Especially with every sentence punctuated with an exclamation as if she was shouting it.
Sir—
You probably already know that I have decided to hate you forever! You know I am right! You are a rogue, Sir, and I have found it out! Do not approach me for any reason! As a gentleman, you have to honor my wishes so do not say anything to me ever again! Stay away!
Lady Winny Nicolet
No, certainly this was some ridiculous gambit of Lady Valor’s. She was a bold creature. He pulled a sheet of paper out of the desk and wrote her back.
Lady Winny Nicolet—
I received your recent missive! I do not believe you hate me forever! I do not know you are right! I am not a rogue, madam, and you have not found it out! I will approach you for any and all reasons! As a gentleman, I only have to honor the wishes that I actually believe! I will not stay away!
Manderbey
PS. Very entertaining, Lady Valor
He snorted as he read it through, answering each of her sentences with one of his own, equally hysterical. He would address the letter to Lady Valor and she could read it at her leisure when she returned to her house. He expected it would put some starch into her.
In the meantime, he would see Lady Winsome soon enough, one way or the other. Whatever confusion might be between them, it would be sorted out, they would face theton, and with any luck they would face each other and plan a future.
The dowager bustled in with a newspaper in her hands. “I do not understand how you managed it so quickly, but I am delighted. Hips, that’s the ticket.”
“What on earth are you talking about?” Leland asked.
“The banns, what else. Lord, you must have hired a fast messenger.” The dowager paused. “Unless this was what you planned all along and I have been somehow hoodwinked. And then, why not a special license?”
“What banns?” Leland asked, truly mystified now.
“Do not bother trying to keep it a secret now, it’s in the papers.” The dowager handed him the newspaper and pointed out a passage.
We hear that Leland Dunmore, Marquess of Manderbey and eldest son of the Duke of Albany is out of the marriage mart for any unmarried ladies interested. The banns between that future duke and Lady Edith Cullington have been read in his home county.
Leland laid the paper down. “What is this nonsense? Who is stirring up such trouble?”
“Trouble? It’s just the thing. Mark me, she will produce a goodly amount of children and some of them are bound to be boys. She might not be a stunner, but her reputation is unblemished and she’s got the hips for it. Just what is needed.”
“Grandmama, this is all nonsense. I have not engaged myself to Lady Edith! And for God’s sake, stop talking about that lady’s hips.”
The dowager pointed at the newspaper laying on the desk. “Says here, you did engage yourself, and I can hardly be blamed for noticing the woman’s hips—they are very wide.”
As if he did not have enough problems just now. What was LadyWinsome to think of this? Was she to imagine she’d left Town for a few days and he’d engaged himself elsewhere? Then there was Lady Edith to think of. And Landry too, whenever he woke up.
*
Landry was growingused to living as an invalid. There was something comfortable in it. Trays came in on the regular with all sorts of things to distract him—eggs and rashers of bacon, rolls and butter, toast, coffee, tea, biscuits, an array of small sandwiches, and then always a very nicely composed dinner of several courses, accompanied by some of his best wines. He was surrounded by books his valet could read to him and Marley brought him the newspapers each morning.
As he was in his repose, Marley was downstairs barring the door against all comers. Manderbey’s footman had turned up several times to inquire into his condition. The duke himself had come, which was a terrifying prospect. However, as far as they would know it, Landry was hanging onto life by a thin thread.
At first, the distant conversations being had at the door were alarming and he’d clutched his covers. Sometimes he could hear nearly all of it and sometimes just bits and pieces. After his two brutish cousins turned up though, he put all his faith in Marley. They insisted they would come in and his butler had given them a stern what-for. He’d dressed them up and then he’d dressed them down. What did they mean by it? Had they come to stare at a dying man? Had they no respect for the sanctity of such occasions? Did they think the Lord God would be pleased to see two ghouls harassing a dying man? Were they prepared to face the bishop, who was even now praying over him?
Those two creatures had turned round and left. If Marley could bar the door to them, there was nobody he could not keep out. He was determined to give the fellow another raise.
The days began to have a comforting rhythm to them and Landry began to wonder why he’d not taken to his bed long ago. It was safe and quiet and peaceful. He had everything he needed. He really was finding it a delight.
In the distance, he heard the door knocker, but he did not pull the covers over his head as he had done when he’d first retreated from the world. Whoever it was, Marley would get rid of them.
And then, he heard a familiar voice and his teacup clattered on its saucer. It was Lady Edith. What did she do here? Had she heard he was dying? He would not wish the lady to think so, as he still had a great determination to propose to her at some later date, when it was safe to go out of doors and he’d not eaten any greasy potatoes.
