Page 77 of Yielding to Love

“The colonel passed recently, as I recall, didn’t he?”

“Yes, poor soul.”

Damn. It was no surprise, Crispin thought, but sad, nevertheless. He was tempted to turn around and insert himself into the conversation, but then his eavesdropping would be evident, and what he was doing was rude. If he got himself blackballed, Jasper would be furious.

“Bodwell has always been sickly, hasn’t he?” asked the same man.

“I never knew him,” Lord Stirling said. “But I suppose he must have been. From what I understand, it was a marriage of convenience. Bodwell’s property was entailed.”

“Ah.” The stranger’s tone grew solemn. “Past tense?”

Harrington and Bodwell both? Crispin’s chest grew heavy.

Another voice piped up. “Couldn’t do the trick before he died?”

“Well, that’s the worst of it.” Lord Stirling cleared his throat. “There was a babe. A boy. But he came much too early and didn’t survive.”

Oh, God, poor Camellia. That first thought was followed immediately by a flash of unease. He counted back the months—a fog of illness and laudanum, but, surely… came much too early. Too early to survive. Relief overwhelmed his pity. His conscience was clear of this at least.

“Bodwell’s cousin is apparently a rogue. So Lady Bodwell fled to us.”

Crispin drained his glass and set it down. He felt sick. Camellia had far more than her share of misfortune.

“The blazes!” said one of the men. “That’s too bad. How long will you have her?”

“I don’t know,” Lord Stirling said. “She has nothing.” Crispin could imagine him shrugging, pretending a lack of concern, though he could not be pleased with being saddled with his wife’s friend.

“Didn’t Harrington leave her anything?”

“There was a house, but Bodwell sold it to pay the old fellow’s debts.” Stirling paused. “I don’t mind having her, of course. My wife says she is as close as a sister. So, there we are.”

“Is she pretty, at least? Decorative?”

“Now, now, none of that.” Then Stirling laughed. “She’s quite a beauty, actually. But bad luck follows her so closely, I’m almost afraid to have her in the house.”

Jasper returned. Stone-faced. “Kelley is an idiot.” He sat down, then stood back up. He nodded at Crispin’s empty glass. “Let’s go to a tavern. Or a coffee house if you’d rather.” He stopped. “Is something wrong?”

Crispin stood up and glanced at the men behind him to burn their faces in his memory. He was going to have to pay a call on Camellia to offer his condolences. He could do nothing less. Good God!

“Crispin?” Jasper said. “Is there something wrong?”

“Nothing. A coffee house would be better.”