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Lord Brooks’s brow dropped, however. “I am sad to hear he will be leaving Carlaby soon.”
Right. Mr. Allen was “leaving” because Alice found she couldn’t keep up the charade any longer. In all her efforts, only Lord Oakley had shown himself to be worthy of forming a connection—either she made one with him or she and Joseph moved on to another estate and tried all over again.
Well, Lord Brooks was certainly worthy of Joseph’s admiration, and she didn’t doubt that whatever woman finally secured his affection would know happiness and respect all her life. But he wasn’t interested in her, nor was he ever likely to be.
“Actually,” Lord Brooks said, suddenly appearing a bit nervous, “if Mr. Allen isn’t here, may I stay and visit with you for a bit? Before going back out in the cold, I mean.”
He wished to stay and visit...with her?
How unexpected. And completely unnerving.
Still, Alice kept enough of her wits about her to motion toward an empty seat, which he took.
“Would you care for tea?” she asked.
“Thank you, yes.”
Alice focused on pouring his tea and settling her racing heart.
“I trust your aunt is still in good health?” Lord Oakley asked Lord Brooks.
“She is well enough,” he replied.
For several minutes, the two men talked about the health of various family members, but Alice heard very little of it. She was too bent on steadying her mind and nerves.
At the first pause in the conversation, Lord Oakley stood. “I feel I have used up enough of your time, Lady Nightingale, and I should be off.”
“Thank you for your visit.” The words fell from her mouth without thought.
“Perhaps I might be permitted to call again in a few days’ time?”
She ought to feel elated that he wished to return and further their acquaintance. She ought to be quite joyful at the notion.
But she wasn’t.
Thankfully, decades of practice at being polite did not fail her. “I look forward to the day.” It wasn’t as though shedisliked him. Most likely, given a bit more time, she would find him quite the best man for her life.
With a bow, Lord Oakley took his leave and was soon out the parlor door. The closing of the front door echoed shortly after.
And then Alice was alone with Lord Brooks.
As herself, not as Mr. Allen.
It was a strange situation. One that made her heart beat painfully against her ribs and her head spin as though caught in a whirlwind. The quiet that stretched on between them was not helping either.
Alice picked up her teacup once more, grasping at anything they might speak on. “How are things between Lord Parsons and Miss Turner?”
“Quite well, as of late.”
“Has her mother’s health improved enough that he has been able to offer for her then?”
Lord Brooks’s expression showed surprise. “How did you know about that?”
She looked up at him—had he already forgotten they’d discussed his friend at length only a few days ago?
Oh, gracious. That was a conversation he’d shared with Mr. Allen, not with Lady Nightingale. She was about to bungle this horribly if she wasn’t more careful.
“My cousin mentioned it in passing. I apologize if he wasn’t supposed to say anything.”
