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Dorothy could see that. But it didn’t make her feel any better.
“What if Lord Dashwood finds out about it? Won’t he be upset?”
“He’ll more than likely find out about it, but will he find out that she’s the one who started the rumours? I doubt it, not unless he goes asking everyone. You don’t often find the source of the rumours, which makes it difficult to quash if it’s got out of hand.”
Dorothy wondered what Lady Marcia would say if she knew that Dashwood had been engaged a while ago to someone else. If she found out that Dorothy and Dashwood had meant to be married by now …
She didn’t want to think about that aftermath, especially if Lady Marcia was staking her claim.
As far as she was concerned, the pair deserved each other. So why did that make her uncomfortable?
“I’ll go and get the salve, and I’ll find Teresa.” Frederica reached the door and unlocked it. “Shall I let Aunt Annabelle know that you’ve decided to retire for the night?”
“Won’t she get upset?”
“Don’t be silly. She won’t mind.”
Dorothy sucked her lower lip.
“You won’t tell her what happened, will you? I’m too embarrassed right now.”
“I won’t say anything. Just don’t go up ladders again.”
“How am I supposed to put that book back, then?”
“Just leave it on the table, and one of the servants will do it for you. Don’t injure yourself to make the bookcase look tidy.”
Dorothy pouted.
“You’re taking the fun out of my holiday, Frederica.”
Frederica laughed.
“You think this is taking fun out of your holiday; we haven’t got started yet.”
“I can handle the ladder.”
“After what you’ve just told me and the bruises you’re going to be carrying, do you want to be confident in that? You might not be lucky next time.” Frederica opened the door. “Don’t go anywhere. We’ll sort out your dresses in no time.”
She left, closing the door behind her. Sighing, Dorothy rubbed her hands over her face. God, Frederica would tease her about this for a while now. Hopefully, she didn’t bruise as much as she was thinking; that would be difficult to excuse if someone saw it.
Her book was sitting beside her, reminding her of how she hurt herself. Why did she go for a big book? A smaller book on a lower shelf would have sufficed.
Dorothy picked it up, rolling to lie on her belly and propping the book up against the pillows. If the offending book was here, and she didn’t want to wait twiddling her thumbs, she might as well read the book and see if it was worth all the pain.
#
“Is there anything else you want from me, My Lord?” Brackston asked as he stood at the foot of the bed.
“No, thanks, Brackston. You can go to bed now.”
“Very good, My Lord.” Brackston paused, looking at the book in Lucas’ hands. “May I say something, My Lord?”
Lucas sighed and looked up. He was sitting in a chair by the fire and feeling comfortable, in a position he didn’t want to move from. Brackston should be leaving instead of wanting to talk.
“It depends on what you want to say.”
“Are you alright?”
