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“Good night,” he murmured.
As he reached the door Eustace called out, “Will you let Uncle James stay, Papa? He’s very sorry.”
Rufus tightened his hand on the doorknob. “We’ll see,” he said sternly.
But he knew he was already beaten. James was very sorry for what he’d done and had made promises not to do it again, so it looked as if James would be staying. Until the next time he lost control of his demons. But he was company for Eustace, and hopefully he would distract the boy from thoughts of visiting Averil Martindale.
The Heiress, he reminded himself, as he strode down the long corridor toward his own room. He could still feel the shape of her in his arms, smell the scent of her, and remember the way her hair tumbled about her, as if it was too rebellious to stay neatly in its pins.
It might be interesting to further his acquaintance with Averil.
Not, he assured himself, because of any thoughts he might have of marrying her, but because he found her interesting. And there was the mystery of the sister, Rose. That might give him something to distract his thoughts from his current troubles.
Would she welcome his interest?
Rufus, remembering her pink cheeks and flashing eyes, smiled. Probably not. But he was rather inclined to interfere anyway.
Averil was dreaming.
Dreaming of Rufus, the Earl of Southbrook.
They were driving in a carriage through the park. Trees were sprouting new green leaves and walkers were strolling on the paths, and she kept glancing at him and smiling. He was looking very handsome, in a rakish kind of way.
And then the scene changed and it was dark and they were running through the narrow alleys of the East End and there was someone chasing them. Rufus had hold of her hand and he was tugging her along, and then suddenly he let go and she was alone in the dark. Hiding. Frightened.
And that was when she realized she wasn’t Averil after all. She was Rose; Rose, her lost sister.
Averil’s eyes snapped open. There was something wet and warm on her toes. She lifted her head to stare down at the bottom of the bed and saw Hercules cleaning them for her with his large pink tongue.
Last night she hadn’t been able to do more than take off her boots and outer clothing, before curling up under the bedclothes for sleep. She must have stuck her foot out at some point and now Hercules was performing her morning ablutions for her.
Slowly, carefully, she moved to swing her legs to the floor. Her knee was still very sore but now it was stiff, as well, and when she looked more closely at it she could see it was puffy and swollen.
The sharp knock on the door made her jump, and then grimace with pain. “Come in,” she called, thinking it was the maid with her washing water and morning tea.
Instead Beth poked her head around the door, still wearing her lacy nightcap that always made Averil smile. “My dear, are you awake?” Then, seeing Hercules seated, panting on the rug by the window, “What are you doing in here, you beast? Go on, out. Out!”
Offended, Hercules removed himself in dignified silence.
Beth came into the bedchamber and closed the door. She was frowning, and there was something about the expression in her eyes that caused Averil to grow wary.
“That man of Doctor Simmons’s is at the door, Averil. Jackson. He says you owe him money.”
Averil’s mouth dropped open. “H-he what?”
Beth nodded, moving closer, and her gaze slid over Averil’s underclothing and messy hair, moving to the pile of clothing and the muddy boots lying on the floor by the bed. “He tells me he took you to a place called The Tin Soldier last night to find out about your sister, and then you vanished before he could bring you home. You also neglected to pay him.”
“You haven’t given him any money, have you?” Averil blurted out. “I did pay him. And he abandoned me for Lord South . . . that is, he left me there and I had to find my own way home.”
“Lord who? And no, I did not pay him, you know I don’t trust the man. I can’t believe you went off in the night without telling me! Averil, if your father’s solicitors found out they would replace me immediately, and I wouldn’t blame them.”
Averil sighed, repentant. “I’m sorry, Beth. I knew you wouldn’t approve and I so wanted to go. Jackson isn’t nearly as bad as you think, and I was perfectly safe,” she added, aware that it was not strictly true.
She tried to maintain eye contact while she said the last part, but Beth saw through her. “You’d better tell me everything,” she said in a milder tone, and sat down on the bed.
However
, when Averil was finished she wasn’t feeling so mild.
