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“But I cannot help but be a trifle concerned about your guest.”
Why was he so persistent? She shot her grandfather a look.
He coughed and studied Frederick with narrowed eyes. “If young Bellingham holds some misgivings about our guest, then I don’t see why you should not take him, my dear.”
Her stomach tensed.
What was Grandfather playing at? Surely no good could come of this. Frederick was hardly the sort to draw back when presented with a sliver of opportunity. He was like his mother in that. Would the general’s contrary nature prove to be their undoing?
But at the raised brows Grandfather cast her, she propelled to her feet. “Very well. Mr. Bellingham, if you would like to come this way. We shall see if he remains awake, or if the doctor has given him something to help him sleep. I would not have you doubt our word, after all.” She tilted her chin.
“Miss Stapleton, I did not mean to upset you. It’s simply that there are people out there who cannot be entirely trusted, and I would hate for you to be taken in by someone of unsavory character.”
“Your thoughtfulness does you much credit,” she said. “But your assumption that we are not up to snuff with such things gives me pause. Would you have my grandfather think you suspect he is unable to distinguish a fraud from a genuine article?”
“Absolutely not.” Frederick’s eyes rounded, then he glanced to where the general surveyed them with a look of frank suspicion. “He looks displeased.”
“As one must suppose, seeing as his intelligence has been called into question. But never mind that now. What damage has been done is done.”
“Oh, but Miss Stapleton—”
“Would you care to step this way?” She ignored his further protests and moved up the stairs. How had she tumbled into this plight? And what might happen next?
Daniel’s ruminations about who had been singing and playing the pianoforte were cut off by the creak of the stairs. Probably Mr. Siddons. But the tap on the door didn’t sound like the butler’s usual ponderous knock, and as he pushed himself upright—and checked his attire and hair were as they ought be—he grew aware of a tightening in his middle that had nothing to do with the food he’d just consumed.
And when Theodosia Stapleton walked into the room—smiling, offering apologies—he barely heard her remarks as that tight feeling immediately moved to his chest. How lovely she looked, in that fancy gown, with the candlelight dancing in her beautiful hair.
“Miss Stapleton. How good it is to see you. It seems like such an age.”
She pressed a finger to her lips, then turned to a man Daniel hadn’t noticed until now, standing half-hidden in the hall. “Mr. Bellingham insisted on seeing you, sir. Which is why it’s such a good thing that you are awake to be seen. I rather believe he would think there was something amiss if you had been asleep and unable to entertain visitors.”
Daniel’s breath held, as much from the tautness in her voice as the clearly unwanted guest. So, the first real test of his identity had begun.
“Miss Stapleton,” the man’s hushed voice sounded from the doorway. “I beg of you to forgive me. I truly meant to give no offense.”
“Why should I be offended when my word is doubted? But doubt no more, Mr. Bellingham. Here is Miss Mannering’s escort, injured, as you no doubt can see. I hope that will suffice.”
Daniel swallowed a smile at her look of coolness, the raised brows and flashing eyes holding more than a hint of contempt. But amusement would not fit his role here, and he endeavored to cough and appear sicker than he was.
“Why, it’s you.” The man pushed into the room.
The same whippersnapper whom he’d met weeks ago on the road. Daniel’s stomach dipped. “Have we met?” he asked, feigning forgetfulness.
“Indeed we have, sir,” Bellingham said promptly, before glancing at Miss Stapleton with a puzzled frown. “Has he been staying here all that time?”
“No, he was residing at Mannering for some time.”
The man’s frown deepened as his attention returned to Daniel. “It is strange that no one mentioned you.”
Daniel sighed weakly. “I’m afraid I cannot help it if people are inclined to ignore me.”
“Your name, sir?”
He stifled annoyance at the officious tone and glanced at Miss Stapleton, whose bottom lip was tucked in under teeth of pearl, whether in apprehension or restrained amusement, he could not tell. “Daniel.”
“Well, Mr. Daniel, I don’t mind telling you I think it most peculiar that you are here and not still there.”
“You might be less inclined to wonder should you see the state of Mannering.” Daniel coughed again, drawing the blanket higher.
