Emily Hendrickson (8 page)

Elizabeth shared a shocked look with Lord Leighton. What did her aunt think might happen?

“I had believed we would do rather better than that, my lady,” his lordship declared.

“Fools frequently do. See that you remember that.” She glanced at her locket watch, then turned to leave.

Elizabeth followed her aunt into the carriage, pausing only to inform Lord Leighton when she would return.

David watched the carriage roll down the drive with misgivings. Keep Elizabeth Dancy safe? The girl who so intrepidly shot at an intruder in the dark? He’d rather nurse a keg of blasting powder.

When he reentered the house, his relatives were nowhere to be seen. Trusting his memory, he ambled to the library door, where he found them inside. The remains of tea lay ignored while they sipped excellent port and discussed the morning’s ride. He watched them for a moment before joining them. He took care to preserve his invalidish appearance.

“Pretty little gel. Pretty,” Lord Augustus stated firmly, a twinkle lighting his rheumy eyes.

“Odd time of day to be paying a call, wouldn’t you say?” Egbert added, unable to keep the curiosity from his voice.

“Lady Montmorcy is a dear friend of my father’s. Did you chance to know her years ago, before she wed and moved to the country. Uncle?” David strolled over to stand by the fire, warming himself, and wishing he might rest. Although the injury was not as serious as he led Elizabeth to believe, it did pain him some.

“Believe I did. Bound to. Knew everyone in those days,” his uncle replied, looking deeply into his glass of port. “Am sure I did. Believe your father rather fancied her at one time.”

“And you, Egbert? I vow I am surprised you had not met Miss Elizabeth. She was everywhere to be seen in Society last Season. Or do you prefer other company while in the city?” David suggested in an even tone.

An angry redness crept up on Egbert’s face as he stared at his cousin.

“Lightskirts. The boy enjoys his fun, David. Pity you are not more inclined that way. Been Friday-faced ever since you came home. Can’t think why you stay. Ought to find a good lightskirt to keep you company. Yes, sir, a good lightskirt.” Lord Augustus pounded his left fist on the arm of the high-backed chair to emphasize his point.

“I do well enough while in Town, Uncle, as you would know if you ever went there. And you well know that I am here because of the summons from Filpot. My father is ill. Or had you forgotten?” He studied the trio who sat by the fireplace, the glow of the flames reflected in their now sober faces. Jeremy had remained prudently silent throughout their conversation, having nothing to contribute, it seemed.

“He forgets now and again, David,” Egbert said.

“We all do,” David replied wearily. He began to leave the room, then paused by the door. “Miss Elizabeth is coming over later today. She will be looking after my father. I want the three of you to keep out of her way. Is that clear?”

They all nodded. David noted that Egbert looked exceedingly worried. Good.

* * * *

At Montmorcy Hall, Elizabeth fended off questions from her cousins.

“I cannot see how Aunt Bel will allow you to visit a gentlemen’s establishment, Elizabeth,” Hyacinth scolded.

“Somehow I doubt if I shall encounter them in the sickroom, cousin,” Elizabeth said dryly.

“It sounds vastly romantic to me,” Lady Chloe said in a breathy voice. “Fancy, nursing the father of the man you are to marry.’’ A conscious look came over her face. “I do hope he does not die while you tend him. That would be dreadful.”

“Indeed,” Elizabeth replied with a wry twist of her mouth, rising from her chair by the fireplace. “I wish to consult with Purvis before I leave. Rose shall pack a small portmanteau for me, just in case the weather turns nasty and I cannot make my way home.”

Lady Chloe dashed to the window to search the leaden skies. She shivered. “Oh, it looks bad to me. Purvis says she cannot recall a more vile February. I should say it is very likely you will spend at least one night there.”

“I think it is all highly improper,” Hyacinth stated in the primmest of manners. “Nothing good will come of breaking Society’s rules, mark my words.”

“Do you intend to broadcast it to all and sundry, then?” Elizabeth inquired before leaving the sitting room.

“Hyacinth,” Lady Chloe rebuked, “they are betrothed now. I fancy that if Aunt Bel gives permission, it must be acceptable. And Elizabeth is a most agreeable girl.”

“Perhaps too agreeable?” Hyacinth suggested.

“I’ll have you know that I have no desire to go to Penhurst Place, Hyacinth. First, Lord Leighton requested that I assist him, then Aunt Bel as good as ordered me there. Since I am dependent upon her kind mercies, I shan’t say no to her express wishes. Is that clear?”

“You met his cousin?” Hyacinth said, her eyes calculating.

“Egbert Percy? Yes. Not a very prepossessing young man. An incipient fop, I’d say from what I saw. He cannot hold a candle to his cousin. Lord Leighton. Nor, for that matter, can his other cousin, Jeremy Vane.”

“My, what a lot of men!” Lady Chloe declared, her shocked eyes round with amazement.

“I believe I once read there is safety in numbers. His uncle. Lord Augustus Percy, lives there as well. I trust they will all behave like gentlemen. I doubt if Lord Leighton will do more than tease me. He seems to enjoy that a great deal.”

“How curious,” Lady Chloe said in a wondering voice. “That does not sound the least lover-like.”

“Quite,” Elizabeth replied, closing the door behind her as she left her cousins. Mercy, what an ordeal. Getting Purvis to share her knowledge of healing ought to be a snap compared to escaping from her cousins.

When Purvis was found at last in the still room, Elizabeth expressed her wish for healing potions. After explaining what she had learned about Lord Crompton from Aunt Bel, Purvis nodded sagely.

“Most peculiar. Can’t say I could pinpoint the illness. If I could see the man. . . ?”

“Aunt Bel and Lord Leighton say that Lord Crompton will not have anyone else about. And Aunt Bel says the concoction that the cook makes him is a vile potion. Aunt said the smell made her feel ill. I’ll wager you could do much better than that woman. Do you know her treacle tarts were off and the milk a trifle sour?”

“No!” Purvis declared in horror. “Well, and I shall do my best. Miss Elizabeth.”

With the honor of Montmorcy Hall at stake, Purvis set to work compounding her best restorative tonic. Once that was completed, she set to stir up other, more interesting potions. By the time two hours had elapsed, Elizabeth felt as though she might dabble in this sort of thing herself, for it fascinated her.

“Finished,” Purvis declared, setting the last glass vial into the basket Elizabeth had placed on the table in the still room. “Remember, give him the tonic twice a day. And open the curtains. Poor man.” Purvis tsk-tsked at the thought of a gloomy room, even if some of the best doctors urged such. She’d found a cheerful room to be better for health.

“Anything else?” Elizabeth began to fold a crisp white napkin over the contents of the basket, then paused as Purvis handed her a bottle of a brown substance. Frowning, she gave Purvis a questioning look.

“For Lord Leighton. I fancy his arm will be giving his a bit of bother. I showed that Hadlow how to dress the wound, but the man looks none too bright. You best see to it yourself.”

Elizabeth meekly agreed, while wondering how in the world she was to get Lord Leighton to bare his arm so she might check his dressing, much less pour down his throat some of the stuff he declared to be utterly vile.

Chapter Five

On the ride back to Penhurst Place, Elizabeth reflected on how life had changed for her since arriving to live with Aunt Bel. In the past Elizabeth had literally burst into a room, questions tripping off her tongue. A short time with her aunt had cured her of the habit. That, and having the correct and proper Hyacinth around.

What with her aunt’s penchant for punctuality, Elizabeth’s habitual tardiness at meals had also been changed. She quickly learned that unless she arrived at the table promptly, she might not eat. Since that was also a habit she’d acquired over the years, she soon adjusted.

But now her punctual and proper aunt wanted her to violate all the dictates of society to tend a gentleman Elizabeth had never even met. To make it worse, she entered a household composed entirely of men, three of them close to her own age and eligible one way or another. Before leaving the house, she had turned to face Aunt Bel just inside the front door.

“How do you know I shall do the right thing? Or for that matter, how do you know I
can do
the correct thing?” Elizabeth inquired while being shuffled out of the door to the waiting carriage that would return her to Penhurst Place.

“You have become quite a sensible girl in the months since you came to live with me,” Aunt Bel replied, patting Elizabeth’s arm, while handing her the basket of herbal preparations Purvis had mixed for the earl and Lord Leighton. “I trust you to use your brains. You possess compassion along with your common sense. But keep your wits about you, for if that Filpot person is around, you shall have need of it.” She watched as Elizabeth climbed into the carriage and the door was shut before scurrying back into the house out of the cold.

Not convinced her aunt was in the least correct in her assessment, but comforted by her words, Elizabeth settled back on the seat for her brief journey, tucking the rug across her lap for warmth.

How ironic it was that the one man in the world that she most wished to avoid should turn up, not on her doorstep, but in her bedchamber! She well knew that marriages often were compelled when a couple were found in a compromising situation. And with her in her nightgown . . . Mercy, he had looked straight at her! Perhaps he wouldn’t recall the sheer cambric that permitted a shockingly intimate view of her person. And pigs might fly.

And . . . Aunt Bel still acted as though Elizabeth intended to marry Lord Leighton in due time.

When she sighed. Rose asked, “Be you troubled, miss?”

“Just a bit. I shall want you by me while at Penhurst Place. I cannot imagine what I shall encounter there. If nothing more, I want you to keep a watch on those valets. I do not like Hadlow, and I agree with my aunt that Filpot is missing something in his upper story.”

“That Hadlow was right proper when he came to the Hall, miss. Treated us all with fittin’ manners for a valet to a viscount, he did. Might not seem like a friendly fellow, but that wouldna’ be right, you see. One must respect his position, he must.” Rose nodded her head in a virtuous way, the single feather adorning her neat straw bonnet bobbing up and down in emphasis.

“Curious.” Elizabeth found little comfort in this commendation, although she well knew that servants were not easy to fool, and that they were severe judges of character.

* * * *

Sidthorp ushered her into the saffron-hued house with a much improved manner. Of course, he did not go so far as to actually smile, but at least he didn’t look quite so forbidding. She handed her pelisse to Rose along with her bonnet and gloves. The basket she retained.

“This way, miss. Lord Leighton is in his room, but he left instructions that you were to go directly to his father’s room when you arrived.”

With Rose trailing behind, she followed the portly butler up the stairs and along the hall where her aunt and Lord Leighton had gone earlier.

“Is Lord Leighton’s room in this wing?” she inquired in what she hoped was a disinterested manner.

“Yes, miss. Last room on the left.” The butler paused, rapped gently, then opened the door before them, quite some distance from Leighton’s.

Elizabeth stood in her tracks, trying to adjust to the dark. For in spite of it being afternoon, it might have been night in there. “That will be all, Sidthorp.”

She must have sounded accustomed to giving orders, for Sidthorp left her immediately, even bowing. Elizabeth crossed to the windows and gently pulled the draperies aside to allow the winter light, such as it was, to enter. Then she turned to study the room while tying an apron about her waist. Although vast in size, it was simply yet elegantly furnished.

The enormous bed drew her attention. Nestled in the middle of me magnificent structure hung with royal blue silk that was embroidered with delicate gold threads lay a man. A very still man. Then he stirred.

Elizabeth hurried to the side of the bed, placing the basket atop the night table. “Sir? Is there anything I can do for you?”

It seemed to her that he fought to open his eyes. When he succeeded, Elizabeth suffered a shock, for David, Lord Leighton’s hazel eyes stared at her from a lined face. Only there wasn’t that familiar teasing present in them. They merely looked tired and ill.

Swiftly hunting through the basket, she found the tonic Purvis had prepared. In a trice Elizabeth had opened the bottle and poured a dose into a glass.

“Now, let me ease you up a bit. I shall have you feeling better in no time.” He obediently drank the liquid, then studied Elizabeth with puzzlement.

“Who are you?” he managed to whisper.

“Elizabeth Dancy. Lady Montmorcy’s niece. I have come to nurse you. My aunt wishes you to be well, as does your son. For some peculiar reason they believe I can manage to persuade you to get better.” She twinkled down at him, sharing the absurdity of a young woman convincing an old man he ought to live.

A ghost of a smile fluttered across his mouth, then was gone. “Amusing. Must know I like pretty gels.”

The effort of that little speech exhausted the earl, and he closed his eyes to sleep once again.

She turned to share a concerned look with Rose, who set about tidying the room, muttering beneath her breath at the shortcomings of the Penhurst Place staff.

Elizabeth inspected the room. Aunt Bel had told her to dispose of anything that had come from the Penhurst kitchens or the valet. Elizabeth was inclined to agree after her own experience with both. She scooped up various evil-looking potions and proceeded to pour the contents out the window—after first checking to see that she wouldn’t be dumping them on someone’s head. She pulled the window shut quickly, grateful for the brief breath of fresh air.