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“I have enough mettle for what must be done and sometimes precious little more,” she said quietly.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have other work to do. Unless you require anything more?”
“If it is not too much trouble, I would be most obliged to have ink and paper. If your mother is truly willing for me to entertain a guest, then I would very much like to write to my friend Lieutenant Musgrave and beg him to visit. I was supposed to see him in London, but as I cannot make it to the city, then I might ask London to come to me.”
“He would be very welcome, sir.”
“Thank you. Can you recommend a good inn? I would not wish to impose another on your household here.”
“The White Hare is the best such establishment, but only if you consider Stapleton Court to be too cramped and small.”
“You have done so much already.”
“Tosh and nonsense. You are Becky’s uncle, and as such are to be considered almost like family, as she is. A visitor to you would be of little consequence to the running of things here, and so is not to be wondered at, and will not be wondered at, unlike if the lieutenant stays in town and is forced to explain exactly why he has come to this part of the world.”
He frowned, then nodded. “I never realized just how burdensome keeping my identity private would prove.”
“You cannot have known just how things would eventuate.” She rose and moved to the door. “If you wish to invite the lieutenant, then please assure him he will receive a warm welcome.” She smiled. “We cannot have England’s hero complaining of being lonely.”
A ring on the bell drew her downstairs in time to catch Mr. Siddons opening the door to Lady and Frederick Bellingham. Her heart, which had only moments earlier felt light, seemed to shadow.
How would their most constant visitor respond to the knowledge that their guest was the one man the squire’s wife longed to meet?
She placed such concerns to one side as she hurried down the stairs. “Dear Lady Bellingham! How wonderful of you to take pity on us and deign to visit us in this foul weather.”
The squire’s wife drew off her gloves as they moved to the drawing room. “I was afraid something must have happened to you, what with no sign of hide nor hair of any of Stapleton’s inhabitants for over a week.”
“You must forgive us. The weather has been most atrocious, and the general has been unwell.” She gestured for them to sit.
“Gout, I suppose?” Lady Bellingham asked.
Theo nodded.
“That must account for the doctor’s visits.”
“He has been most faithful in his attendance.” All true. “Although I must confess to some ignorance as to why the movements of the doctor to our door would prove of interest to others.”
Lady Bellingham tittered, as if Theo had spoken wittily. But she didn’t answer, only slid a look at her son.
Hmm. Had he been the one most interested in the goings-on at Stapleton Court?
He bowed slightly in greeting. “I trust you are not missing Miss Mannering too much.”
“Miss Mannering?” she repeated. “Oh, I take it you have not heard the news. Rebecca is with us still. Her, um, escort for the journey south had an accident, and so she remains a little longer.”
“I see.” But the cloud in his eyes made it clear that he did not like it.
She turned to Lady Bellingham. “Should you wish to speak to my mother? I am sure she is as keen as you to enjoy a comfortable coze.”
“That would be very kind.”
Theo rose, as did Mr. Bellingham, and she was about to offer to get tea when the door opened and in walked Theo’s mother, trailed by Becky.
“My dears!” Lady Bellingham shook hands with them. “How wonderful to see you both, although I am a little surprised to see one of you.”
Theo met Becky’s quick glance with the slightest shake of her head. “I was just telling dear Lady Bellingham about how glad we are that you have not yet left us.”
