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CHAPTERFOURTEEN
“Good morning, My Lady,” Helen, Irene’s lady’s maid, greeted Elizabeth as she walked into her bedchamber.
Elizabeth touched her aching temple. “Good morning, Helen. Where is Stella?” She had not been able to sleep the night before because she had betrayed Irene again and was now at Rhys’ mercy. She had also failed to take her list back from him which he might use against her.
“I am afraid she is unwell this morning,” Helen replied.
“Oh, dear, how bad is it?” Elizabeth asked, quickly gaining her feet, putting on her robe, and slipping her feet into the pair of slippers by her bed.
Helen looked concerned. “She has a fever, but Mrs. Compton gave her some tea to remedy it.”
“Tell the butler to call the physician.” Elizabeth walked to the door. “I am going to see her.”
“Yes, My Lady.” Helen curtsied. Elizabeth hurried up the stairs to the maid’s rooms on the topmost floor, and she found the housekeeper, Mrs. Compton, leaving Stella’s room when she arrived.
“Good morning, My Lady,” Mrs. Compton greeted with a curtsy. “Are you here to see Stella?”
“Yes. Helen told me that she has a fever.”
“I suspect it is more than a fever. Perhaps a cold. My Lady, I cannot allow you to enter.” Mrs. Compton blocked the door. “You might catch her ailment.”
“Stella is my friend, and you know that,” Elizabeth challenged.
“I understand that, My Lady, and I sincerely beg your pardon, but I must keep you away from her until she is better.”
The housekeeper was right, thus, Elizabeth nodded. “I have asked the butler to call the physician. Please inform me of her condition when he examines her.”
“I shall do that, My Lady.” Mrs. Compton smiled.
“Please give her my regards,” Elizabeth muttered before returning to her bedchamber to dress. She had errands she needed Stella to run for her, but she would have to do them herself now, and she would have to wait until the household had retired.
* * *
“Will you tell me why you were so discourteous to Lady Elizabeth yesterday?” Rhys asked his grandmother as he walked into the morning room.
He had woken in a foul mood that morning because of the events of the night before. His grandmother had cleverly avoided his questions by retiring early, but she had nowhere to go this morning.
“I do not think I was discourteous to her, Rhys. I merely inquired about her accomplishments and found her miserably lacking.” The Dowager smiled and sipped her tea. “Besides, it is not Lady Elizabeth you should concern yourself with.”
Rhys sat down and filled his cup with coffee. “I had to apologize to her on your behalf.”
His grandmother waved dismissively. “You should not have troubled yourself. Did you know that she responded in French when I asked her if she spoke the language? I have never seen such impertinence in my life.”
That made Rhys smile. It was exactly how he would expect Elizabeth to respond. “It is still not enough reason for you to make her feel embarrassed.”
His grandmother rolled her eyes. “With her lack, she ought not to show her face in polite society.”
Rhys’ fingers tightened around the knife he had just picked up to butter his toast. “Do you know the reason she does not have these so-called talents?” His voice was low as he spoke.
He had just discovered she spoke French very well after learning of her skill in Latin the night before. Any person who spoke three different languages should be praised and not criticized.
“I attribute it to lack of effort,” the Dowager said. “Anyone can acquire a talent if they force themselves to.” Rhys set the knife down and pushed back his chair.
“Where are you going?” the Dowager asked.
“Where I will eat breakfast in peace,” he responded. “I will also caution you against antagonizing Lady Elizabeth. She has a strong influence on her sister and could easily dissuade Irene from accepting my marriage offer.”
“You do not mean that.” The Dowager looked almost aghast.
