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Becky worried her lip but performed the task obediently. “I, er, I am afraid I do not recognize him, ma’am.”
Lady Bellingham sank back against the cushions. “Are we never to see that man? I declare it is almost as if he had no wish to see you, the way he avoids the place. Not,” she said quickly, with a wide-eyed glance of apology at Becky, “that I’m not certain but that hewillcome. Because a man as heroic as that must surely know his duty.”
Would the guarded talk of Becky’s uncle raise any of her sister’s suspicions about the man abed upstairs?
The heavy knocker on the front door sounded, and the women kept silent, everyone still, as if their ears strained for the slightest whisper of who the visitor might be, regardless of the etiquette of such a thing.
Theo smiled internally. How funny that what was deemed proper could always be altered to suit one’s whims and fancies.
“Theodosia, perhaps you could see if Mr. Siddons needs some assistance,” Mama implored, her thin hand grasping the carved wooden armrest.
“Of course.” She smoothed her gown and moved to the door, swallowing another smile at Mama’s plea. Mr. Siddons possessed a manner of dealing with visitors, whether invited or unwanted, that had never left her in any doubt that he could dampen pretensions. He would never require any assistance whatsoever. Still, the graceful request with which she could learn the visitor’s identity showed that Mama was just as eager to know too.
Theo entered the hall just as Mr. Siddons turned, spied her, and announced in a grand voice. “Ah, here is Miss Stapleton now.”
“Miss Stapleton.” The stranger ignored Mr. Siddons and stepped forward, offering a slight bow. “I am—”
“This is Lieutenant Musgrave,” interrupted Mr. Siddons, with a tight smile that said he most certainly did not welcome having his moment of theatre stolen.
“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” the lieutenant said. A gleam of amusement in his eye said he appreciated the irony of having the pretensions squashed.
How like herself, and also put her firmly in mind of the man upstairs who owned a similar enjoyment for the ridiculous. “Lieutenant, how wonderful that you could come all this way. I know your presence will be most valued by one who lingers in his sickbed.”
“A malingerer, that describes Balfour most certainly.”
She recognized his tease and instructed Mr. Siddons to see to the man’s bags, then drew the lieutenant to a small alcove and spoke quietly. “I am truly glad you are here, but I must warn you we are not without some other visitors at this moment, one of whom is most eager to learn about the whereabouts of the captain and is quite offended on Becky’s behalf as much as her own that he is yet to make an appearance. So if you would be so good—”
“As to maintain the subterfuge? Of course, ma’am. You can trust me.”
“Thank you.”
He smiled, his handsome features probably far more in keeping with Lady Bellingham’s idea of what a truly heroic hero should look like compared with the poor man with the broken leg upstairs.
“Our wisest course of action is to take you to the drawing room, where I can make you known to my mother, sister, Lady Bellingham, and Miss Mannering, Captain Balfour’s niece. They are most eager to make your acquaintance. But again I warn you to do your best to hide his true identity, if at all possible, without telling a falsehood.”
“Of course, ma’am.”
How good it was to be so easily obeyed. “This way, if you please.” She led the way into the drawing room and performed the introductions.
Faces lit, proving the women were just as favorably impressed with their guest as she was.
Not that a handsome face counted for much. Witness the husband of her sister, whose words and actions had never matched the goodness of his appearance. She couldn’t help but be glad he’d chosen to go riding today.
Another flare of resentment revealed she’d benefit from yet further prayer and quiet reflection.
But the fact of the lieutenant’s handsomeness could not be denied. He was taller than the captain, with eyes of blue. The thick blond hair apparent once he had removed his hat owned nothing of the thinning hairline the captain possessed. Lieutenant Musgrave owned a degree of charm, too, and the effect of such a personable manner was seen in the way Mama and Lady Bellingham’s voices had risen rather higher than normal, Seraphina had lost all interest inLa Belle Assemblée, and Becky kept staring at him as if she’d seen a Greek god turned into flesh.
“Oh, dear Lieutenant Musgrave,” Lady Bellingham was now saying. “I wonder, are you related at all to a Mrs. Louisa Musgrave, by any chance?”
“My cousin, ma’am,” he said from his position standing near the fireplace. “I am from the Leicestershire branch of Musgraves.”
“Please be seated,” Mama’s softer voice intoned.
He gave a strong shake of his head. “I would not dream of staining your furniture with my mud, but I do appreciate a chance to warm up near the fire. It is so blessedly cold here in the north.” He rubbed his hands together and reached them nearer the flame.
“May I get you something hot to eat or drink, sir?” Theo offered from her position near the door.
“Thank you, but I had a light repast in a village not too far from here.”
