Emily Hendrickson (10 page)

Not so Lord Leighton. He rose to his full height, frowned at Jeremy, then said, “No need to dump the butter boat over her. Vane. She is not only spoken for, but her fortune is only modest.”

Jeremy drew himself up, nodded to Elizabeth, then joined the others, seeming unaffected by the snub.

“That was not kind of you,” Elizabeth admonished quietly.

“I am not a kind man. Haven’t you learned that by now?”

Not trusting that gleam in his eyes in the least, Elizabeth turned in a whirl to march up to her room. She would request a tray and avoid the entire Percy family.

She looked down when she reached the top of the stairs, and was surprised to find Lord Leighton standing in the entry hall, watching her.

“Oh, do get up to bed before you truly take ill.”

“You care.” He grinned at her, lazily walking toward the bottom of the stairs.

Elizabeth hurried to her room, closed the door behind her, then shut her eyes, totally exasperated with herself, not to mention that wretched man. Would she never learn to guard her tongue when near him?

“You prefer a tray up here. Miss Elizabeth?” Rose inquired at long last, seeing her mistress made no move to return downstairs. She had been put out of the earl’s room by that Filpot, she explained when Elizabeth inquired.

“Indeed.”

Crossing to the window, she studied the sky. Bleak gray skies were to be preferred to snow, she decided.

* * * *

In the drawing room, David sank down upon a nearby chair, relieved to be off his feet. Not that his arm pained him as much as he implied to Elizabeth. He suspected that she would hightail it out of this house and back to Montmorcy Hall if she knew just how lightly he was injured. Oh, it looked rather bad, but in actuality it was amazingly mild. How fortunate Elizabeth had hit his arm, and with a gun not fully loaded. Hadlow assured him that the wound ought to heal nicely, with scarcely any scar.

“Had us worried, my boy,” said his uncle when he realized David had rejoined them. Shifting in his chair drawn close to the fire, he studied his nephew from beneath his brows. “Dashed odd business, if you ask me.”

“Perhaps a bit foolish. I have been trying to see Miss Elizabeth for weeks, and with the fortification of some excellent brandy I decided to beard the lioness in her den, or bedchamber if you will.”

“Egad,” Lord Augustus muttered while Egbert chuckled.

“As you know, I received a shot for my trouble.”

“What the devil did you want to see her about that was so urgent you couldn’t wait?” Egbert demanded when he could stop chuckling.

“It seemed like a good idea at the time. I wanted her to come nurse Father. That woman and her gin bottle was the final straw as far as a hired nurse. You must admit that Filpot has done poorly.”

“Cannot abide that man,” Lord Augustus grumbled.

“Nor can I,” David replied. “However, he has been with my father for ages, and so he remains. Perhaps Elizabeth will be able to counteract his influence.”

“The wound very disagreeable?” Jeremy inquired from his chair to one side.

David looked down at the neat sling that covered his arm. Something told him that he had best be careful what he said about the injury. “So-so.”

“Can only hope it doesn’t turn putrid,” Lord Augustus added in lugubrious tones.

“Amen to that. Uncle,” David replied before rising. It was best he go to his room to keep up the appearance that his wound truly pained him.

“I always told you that your pranks would get you in trouble one day,” Egbert said as a parting shot.

David considered the lingering kiss he had shared with the delightful Elizabeth and grinned.

Chapter Six

All was silent the next morning when Elizabeth came down to break her fast. In the dining room, usually a pleasant place, the gloom outside seemed to have crept in through the windows and seeped beneath the doors.

“And a good morning to you,” Elizabeth said to the sole occupant with determined sprightliness, although some of it was forced.

Lord Augustus surveyed the sky, then turned from the window. “Not good, not good at all,” he said with a dejected shake of his head. “Weather turning miserable again. Best to remain inside.” As if he jaunted about. “Known people to stray off the road in a snowstorm and freeze to death before help arrived. If one cannot see, one can hardly find the way.”

He turned again to scan the clouds, speaking loud enough to be clearly heard although he was turned from her. “Good of you to stay. Proper gel. Worry about m’brother. You’ll see to him right enough.” There was a hint of a question in his voice she couldn’t ignore.

Elizabeth buttered her toast, considering the previous day. In a mere few hours she had antagonized Egbert Percy, caused poor Jeremy to receive a tongue-lashing, and tumbled into Lord Leighton’s arms. No, that was one arm, and she had assisted him, more’s the pity. Proper girl? Hardly.

“I shall do all possible for the earl, you may be certain. It is a pity you are not as close as you once were. I wonder if a visit from you might not cheer him up.”

“No. Not from me,” he said with a trace of sadness.

She wondered about Lord Augustus. Why did he stay here when it seemed he and his brother had become estranged? It seemed most peculiar to her.

She would need to keep a sharp eye on all the inhabitants of this house. Could there actually be someone who would use poison on the earl? Was that why Lord Augustus persisted in staying? She stared at the man, lost in his unhappy reflections. What really went on in his mind? Poison? Her appetite suddenly fled, and she abandoned all pretense of eating, resorting to her teacup for a bit of warm comfort.

“Least he don’t seem contagious. Bad to have you in any danger, proper gel like you,” Lord Augustus said at long last.

A wry smile touched her lips. There was danger, and there was . . . danger. It seemed to her that Lord Leighton presented a peril of a serious sort. Or did he merely seek to provoke her once again? Exasperating, maddening man.

“Have you been at Penhurst Place very long, sir?”

“Dun territory, y’know. Some time ago. Just need a bit of time to come about. I will one of these days.” His corset creaked as he joined her at the table. “M’home is lonely, don’t you see? Wish things were different.” He subsided into morose reflection again.

Elizabeth made a show of brushing crumbs from her fingers, then pushed away from the table. “I shall go up to see your brother now. Could I bring a message from you to him perhaps?”

“You are going now?” Jeremy Vane said in a dismayed voice. He stood poised uncertainly in the doorway.

“Only upstairs to stay with the earl.”

He gave her a hesitant smile, then stood aside to allow her to leave the dining room.

She briskly walked to the central hall and up the stairs. Seeing Rose, she requested that she heat up a bit of the special broth for his lordship. Then Elizabeth marched down the south corridor to the earl’s room.

She wondered what her reception would be today. If her suspicions proved true, and that repulsive Filpot was trying to do in his master, her attentions could save the earl’s life. Feeling immeasurably better, she resigned herself to whatever came her way.

Sidthorp approached her. He had just come from the earl’s room, and she wondered if she dared to ask him what the mood was today.

“I trust that all is to your liking. Miss Elizabeth?” Sidthorp inquired. “You suffered no disturbance in your wing of the house?”

“Lovely,” she assured him, a smile touching her lips as she considered her aunt’s hopes. “A good sleep does much to restore one’s spirits.” It seemed Sidthorp was on the side of virtue. “May I go in to see the earl now?”

The butler rubbed his chin, then glanced about them. Nodding, he said, “Filpot went down to the kitchen not too long ago. I shall find some manner of delaying him, so you may investigate his lordship’s condition without that, er, man about you.”

Pausing, Elizabeth did something she normally would not have considered. She quizzed a servant. “Sidthorp, it seems that Filpot is not well liked. How odd the earl should be so devoted to the man.”

“As to that, miss, his lordship is not one to make changes. Detests a deviation from the customary, you see.”

That did not auger well for her assuming control of the sickroom. “Thank you, Sidthorp. I can only hope that I shan’t find myself on the doorstep in a few minutes.”

“Oh, he likes a pretty face, miss. Fact is, I believe I heard Filpot muttering a complaint to that effect when the staff ate their morning meal.”

“Undoubtedly that is why I am here rather than my aunt.” She made a rueful grimace at the thought.

“His lordship has avoided any attentions from ladies his own age.” The butler shared a look of understanding with Elizabeth, then recalled the impropriety of the conversation about the same time she did. He turned and walked toward the stairs, while Elizabeth continued on to the earl’s room.

She was to nurse an elderly man who was set in his ways and liked a pretty face, while avoiding entanglements with women his own age. A difficult task at best. Perhaps that was where Lord Leighton came by his inclinations? Like father, like son? She could just have well been describing David, Lord Leighton, come to think about it. He too seemed set in his ways, and he certainly liked a pretty face, if the gossips in London were to be believed. He was yet a bachelor, having eluded every matchmaking mama in Town. Only to be caught of his own doing.

Elizabeth giggled to herself.

“What a lovely sound so early in the morning.”

She looked around from where she now paused before Lord Crompton’s door to find Lord Leighton bearing down upon her.

“How are you this morning?” she inquired. “I trust you did not come down with a putrid throat, or something equally dismal, after your outing yesterday.”

“Strange, whatever that vile stuff is that your Purvis concocted seems to work. I do feel more the thing today.”

“Good, as there will be no repetition of yesterday.” At his devilish grin she hurried on to say, “You shan’t require my attentions.”

He shifted his gaze to the door behind her, then reached around her to open the door. “Come, we had best have a look at the old boy.”

She noted his face assumed a serious mien as they entered the bedchamber. Once inside he fixed a more cheerful look on his countenance, walking close to the bedside.

“At least the curtains have been opened, and the fire is not excessive. Quite pleasant, in fact.” While she spoke she checked about the room, then walked over to join Lord Leighton at the side of the bed.

Reaching out her hand, she placed it against Lord Crompton’s forehead, relieved to find there was no fever. A clean spoon lay on’ the table by the tonic Purvis had created. Elizabeth met the viscount’s gaze before she picked up the spoon and turned her attention to his father. She measured the tonic into a glass, then leaned over the bed.

“Good morning, my lord.”

He opened his eyes. “Ah, the pretty face,” he said in a barely audible voice.

“I believe you are on the mend, sir.” Elizabeth chuckled, then held the glass to his lips, urging him to swallow the tonic. He obeyed her, then sank back onto the pillows with a more alert expression on his face.

“About time.”

“Good morning. Father,” Lord Leighton offered. “Glad to see you look better.”

“Odd that. Feel like I’ve slept a year.”

Lord Leighton shared a look of consternation with Elizabeth. “Dr. Dibble found nothing amiss with you.”

“Bah. Then why do I feel as weak as a new kitten, I ask you? I missed you—have you been ill?”

“Er, no. I ran into a slight complication.”

Elizabeth decided to insert a comment. “He sought my help. I mistook him for a burglar and shot him in the arm.”

“Good Lord!”

“It was a bit of a surprise.” Lord Leighton cleared his throat before proceeding. “Also, Miss Elizabeth and I are betrothed. Father.”

Surprisingly shrewd eyes surveyed Elizabeth from beneath a pair of shaggy brows. “Fell into a bumblebath, did he? Knew he would someday. Bound to. I believe it runs in the family.”

“Something like that, sir. You see,” Elizabeth said, deciding to confess all while the earl seemed in a good mood, “he happened to be in my bedchamber at two of the clock when I shot him. In the morning, that is,” she added for clarification.

A ghost of a smile flitted across his lordship’s face as he turned his gaze to his son. “Did it right and proper, eh?”

“Yes, sir. But my arm is better today.” He gestured to the neat nankeen sling which supported his arm. Of Aunt Bel’s print shawl there was no sign. Apparently seeing what Elizabeth noticed, that the earl showed signs of fatigue. Lord Leighton said, “Best get down to eat something before Elizabeth offers me some of your tonic.”

Once he had left, Elizabeth set about smoothing the bed and checking the room as she had done the day before. She wanted to make certain that nothing from the kitchen had entered the room. No matter who might be trying to poison—if that was the case—it was better not to take any chances.

Rose slipped silently into the room with the broth. She handed the tray with the covered bowl to Elizabeth, then stepped back. “I’ll just tidy up some, miss,” she whispered.

“Care for a little broth, sir?” Elizabeth coaxed. “I should like to see you continue to improve. It does a nurse’s heart good.”

“I should like something more substantial, if you please,” he insisted. But his voice was weak, and Elizabeth suspected he was putting on a good show for her benefit.

“Try this first. I promise you that I shall bring you hearty roast beef as soon as you may not take ill from it. Now, let me tempt you.” She proffered a spoon, leaning over the bed to feed him.

A twinkle lit his eyes, reminiscent of the one she so frequently saw in David’s. “That you might do, my dear.”

“What a naughty man you are, sir,” she whispered, so as not to shock Rose. She grinned back at him, then continued to feed him the contents of the bowl until all was gone. “There now, you shall feel better soon.”