Mastering the Marquess (8 page)

She glanced at Silverton to gauge his reaction. His mouth had thinned into a hard, skeptical line. Obviously he disapproved, but Meredith couldn't really believe her cousin had any desire to hurt her or Annabel. Jacob was a gruff man and could be callous, but she felt certain he disagreed with his father's actions. She trusted him when he said he would try to protect her and Annabel from Isaac's anger. Whether he could do so was another matter entirely.

Exhausted and numb, Meredith wished everyone would go away and leave them alone. She didn't want to make any more decisions today. Unfortunately, Jacob looked to be growing irritated, and Silverton seemed to be on the verge of opening his mouth, no doubt to argue with her cousin. Perhaps she was a coward, but she simply couldn't bear any more upsets.

She forced herself to smile at her cousin.

“Yes, Jacob, you may call when you return to London. I shall be happy to see you.”

Some of the tension seemed to drain from Jacob's body.

“Thank you.” He reached out and lightly touched her shoulder. “Write to me in Bristol if you need anything at all, Meredith. And don't worry about Father.”

He nodded brusquely to Silverton and, without another word, strode out of the room.

Meredith allowed herself to collapse on to the sofa, next to her sister. At the same time, Miss Noyes finally gave full vent to the hysterics she had been trying to suppress for the last half hour.

Silverton forced himself to unclench his teeth as he studied the three women huddled on the sofa. Miss Noyes wept uncontrollably. Annabel threw herself on the floor in front of her, stroking her hands and murmuring quietly as she attempted to soothe the overwrought woman.

Meredith seemed completely detached from the little scene playing out beside her. Her shoulders were slumped, and her hands had dropped loosely into her lap as she stared absently out the sitting-room window. She looked to be in a state of shock.

Not surprising, Silverton thought, after what she had just been subjected to. Now that the immediate danger had passed, all the courage and defiant determination she had displayed in the face of her uncle's wrath seemed to have drained out of her.

He also realized that Annabel's attempts to calm her governess were singularly unsuccessful, as the mousy little woman grew ever more hysterical.

There were few things in life Silverton loathed more than copious displays of weeping, having been subjected to them by his mother for as long as he could remember. Unfortunately, all attempts to soothe Miss Noyes apparently made it worse. Meredith seemed oblivious to the commotion —extraordinary, given the wails coming from beside her.

Sighing, Silverton turned to Robert, who, once again, was frozen in place like the proverbial pillar of salt. What was it about the Burnley sisters that threw his young cousin into such a state of paralysis?

“Robert,” he prompted. The boy did not respond, and Silverton noticed that he was fixated on Annabel's graceful figure kneeling on the floor.

“Robert,” he repeated, more loudly this time. His cousin jumped with a guilty start.

“Oh! Sorry, old fellow. Did you say something to me?” He grinned apologetically at Silverton.

“Yes, dear boy, I did. Will you please ring the bell and see if we can get some assistance for Miss Noyes?”

“Oh, of course! How stupid of me not to have thought of it before.” Casting a lingering look at Annabel, he rushed over to the corner of the room and rang the bell pull.

Silverton crossed the room to Meredith. He went down on one knee so that he could look directly into her face.

She was pale and her eyes were unfocused, her pupils dilated so much that her gray eyes appeared almost black. He reached out and took her cold hands gently between his own, keeping his movements slow and steady so as not to alarm her.

“Miss Burnley, how are you?”

She did not respond. His concern grew as he chaffed her fingers in an attempt to give her some warmth and comfort.

“Miss Burnley,” he repeated gently. “Is there anything I can get for you?”

She sighed, a wavering exhalation of breath that quivered just on the edge of a sob. The sound of it wrenched at his heart, and he involuntarily tightened his grasp on her hands.

That small movement seemed to bring her back to herself. She sat up straight, her eyes finally resting on his face. Meredith stared back at him for a moment before blushing to a rosy hue. She carefully tugged her hands out of his grip and reached shaking hands up to smooth her disheveled hair.

Not wanting to embarrass her any further, Silverton stood and stepped back from the sofa.

“No, my lord. Thank you. I am quite well.” Meredith attempted a trembling smile. Pushing herself to her feet, she turned to her sister and the still-weeping governess.

“Annabel, my love, perhaps it would be better if you took Miss Noyes up to her room so she could get some rest.”

Surprisingly, Annabel rolled her eyes at her sister, as if annoyed by the suggestion.

“Yes, Meredith, that would be best, but I can't seem to get her to listen to me. I think it would be wise to ring for Agatha. She will know what to do.”

Silverton swallowed a laugh at Annabel's tart rejoinder. It would seem the girl had more backbone than her sister gave her credit for.

“I have just rung for her, Miss Annabel. She should be here momentarily,” Robert piped up eagerly from the corner of the room.

Annabel threw him a grateful smile before returning her attention to Miss Noyes. Silverton couldn't help but notice that Robert continued to stare at his fair cousin with an expression of dazzled adoration on his face.

Before he could think about that further, Agatha appeared in the doorway. Standing behind her was a remarkable-looking creature—a large, florid-faced woman covered in flour and clutching a rolling pin in her massive hand.

“Ah, Agatha, there you are,” said Silverton as he stared uncertainly at the other woman in the hallway. “Your mistress would appear to be in need of some assistance.”

Agatha hurried across the room, pulling a vial of smelling salts out of her pocket. “Yes, my lord. I was afraid something like this would happen.”

She dropped to her knees next to Annabel, opened the vial, and began to wave the salts under Miss Noyes's nose. “The poor lady is prone to upset, and I thought those horrible men were like to kill us if you hadn't come when you did.”

“Yes, and we shall see what happens if they dare to show themselves in this house again,” exclaimed the flour-covered woman as she waved her rolling pin menacingly. “I didn't spend ten years following the drum to put up with the likes of those hooligans. If I had known what was happening I would have been in here in a trice. Bullying my poor young ladies!”

Silverton blinked at the outburst. “I'm sorry, madam, I don't believe I know you.”

“Oh, forgive me, Lord Silverton.” A flustered Meredith spun around, skirts swirling. “This is our new cook, Mrs. Biggs. Your secretary recently hired her for us, and she has been most helpful in setting up our establishment.”

Mrs. Biggs dropped an awkward curtsy, impeded as she was by her rolling pin.

“And I'm honored to meet your lordship, seeing as how you rescued the young ladies. You can be sure the next time those ruffians appear on the doorstep, I'll vouch for it that they won't touch a hair on my ladies' heads.” She shook her flour-covered rolling pin with an exaggerated flourish, as if to illustrate exactly what she would do to anyone who threatened Meredith or Annabel. Tiny bits of pastry scattered on the polished floor.

Silverton was dazed by the image of Mrs. Biggs beating Meredith's uncle about the head with a baking implement. He silently reminded himself to commend his secretary for finding such a remarkable character. Struggling to compose his face, he nodded gravely to the cook.

“I have no doubt you would be successful in protecting the ladies, but I feel confident that Miss Burnley and Miss Annabel are no longer in danger. Mrs. Biggs, would you please bring some tea? I'm sure your mistresses could both benefit from the refreshment.”

“Oh dear! I beg your pardon again, Lord Silverton.” Meredith actually wrung her hands as she cast him an anxious glance. He thought she looked adorably apologetic.

“Yes, Mrs. Biggs, please bring tea and some refreshment to the drawing room as soon as you can. Anything simple will be fine.”

“Nay, miss, don't you worry about simple or not. I knows how to put together a proper tea tray, and I'll be back with it in a twinkle. You just let Agatha get Miss Noyes up to bed and I'll fetch her a cup of tea, as well.”

Mrs. Biggs looked thoughtfully at Miss Noyes, whose hysteria, thankfully, was beginning to abate. “Mayhap a splash of gin in her cup will do the poor soul some good.”

Silverton almost laughed out loud as he heard Meredith smother a groan.

“Yes, Mrs. Biggs,” she agreed hastily. “Thank you very much. I'm sure that will be most helpful.” The cook bustled from the room.

Annabel and Agatha managed to get Miss Noyes to her feet. The maid looped a sturdy arm around the little woman's waist and practically carried her from the room. Silverton couldn't help but wince sympathetically at Miss Noyes's ignominious exit. Mostly, though, he was just grateful.

A profound silence fell over the room. Those left behind stared uncertainly at each other, as if they couldn't quite believe all the turmoil had finally come to an end.

Silverton looked enquiringly at Meredith, who dropped her eyes to the floor as she bit her lower lip.

“My lord,” she began. Her voice trailed off, as if she could not think of a single thing to say that would explain the mortifying events of the afternoon.

“Good Lord, Miss Burnley,” Robert burst in, clearly unable to contain himself any longer. “Pardon me for saying so, but you do seem to have the most appalling relations.”

Meredith flushed a bright pink as she turned her face away, obviously unable to deny the truth of his tactless statement. Annabel glared at Robert and moved swiftly to her sister, wrapping an arm protectively around her waist.

Silverton studied the two girls standing side by side—so physically dissimilar but tied to each other by a devotion forged through years of emotional hardship and solitude. He turned to Robert and raised his quizzing glass.

“Too true, dear boy, too true,” he said in a tone of withering sarcasm. “It's one of life's greatest misfortunes that we must be saddled with relatives we would rather not have to acknowledge. Take me, for instance. Lord only knows what social crime I have committed to be saddled with an overdressed, inconsequential fribble such as yourself for a relation.”

His cousin gaped at him and then looked embarrassed enough to cut his own tongue out of his mouth. Annabel peeked over her shoulder and began to giggle.

“Oh, curse you, Silverton,” Robert exclaimed. “You're right, as always.” He bowed gracefully to the girls, a rueful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Miss Burnley, Miss Annabel, please accept the apology of a witless dolt. I had no right to make any kind of judgment on you or your family. Please forgive me.”

He was rewarded with a brilliant smile from Annabel, which brought a flush to his cheeks as he stared bemusedly into her pretty face.

Meredith turned around to look at Robert, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears.

“No, Mr. Stanton. It is I who should apologize to you for subjecting you and his lordship to such a disgraceful scene,” she replied in a husky voice. “I cannot, however, regret your timely intervention, and Annabel and I can never begin to express our deepest gratitude.” She walked slowly over to Silverton.

“Indeed, if you had not come I suspect things would've ended very badly for us,” she said softly, eyes like burnished silver gazing earnestly into his. “I can never thank you enough for your kindness.”

The intensity of those amazing eyes tugged at something located in the vicinity of his heart. For a moment they stared at each other, and then Silverton busied himself with polishing his quizzing glass.

“Your thanks are not necessary,” he replied brusquely. “I acted only as my aunt would have wished. Lady Stanton would have expected nothing less.”

Meredith stole a bit closer as she reached out and fleetingly touched his arm.

“Nevertheless,” she murmured, “I shall always be grateful for your assistance.”

He realized with a slight shock that she was gazing at him with an expression of fervent admiration on her pale but lovely face. It startled him. It should have made him nervous. But if he were honest with himself, Silverton had to admit it was remarkably pleasant to bask in the glow of her approval.

Even more strangely, though, it made him feel, well, amorous. All he wanted to do right now was find a dark corner to pull her into, push her skirts up, and explore all those lush curves and velvet skin with his mouth and hands.

Good God, he thought irritably, he was becoming positively deranged. Perhaps he was the one who should be committed to a lunatic asylum.

Silverton hated feeling so out of control. From the moment he had entered the drawing room he had been flooded with a wash of extreme emotions. First, he had wanted to pummel Isaac Burnley into a bloody pulp, especially when he had turned on Meredith and mocked her common birth. Then, when her cousin Jacob had insisted on seeing her again, Silverton had been overcome by a violent wave of jealousy. He had wanted to pummel Jacob, too. And now, when Meredith looked at him with that achingly sweet expression on her face, he could barely keep his hands off her. He needed to master these idiotically primitive instincts, and soon.

Especially since the purpose of this visit had originally been to visit Annabel. What a tangle the entire situation had become.

The door opened and Agatha reappeared in the room, laden down with a large and very full tea tray. Struggling under its weight, she carried it to a small table by the sofa and deposited it with a less than graceful thump. Meredith hurried over to assist her.

“Thank you, Agatha. I don't know what we would do without you.” She smiled kindly at the girl as she helped her unload teacups and plates onto the table. “How is Miss Noyes?”

“She's resting, miss. I mixed up some of those sleeping powders the doctor gave us the last time she was feeling poorly,” Agatha exclaimed cheerfully. “Gin doesn't really agree with Miss Noyes, in spite of what Mrs. Biggs might think.”

“Yes, well, thank you, Agatha. That will be all for now,” Meredith replied in a faintly horrified voice. “Lord Silverton, Mr. Stanton, please be seated. You, too, Annabel. I'm sure we have all been standing about long enough.”

Robert hurried across the room to sit next to Annabel on the sofa. His cousin seemed to be developing a marked taste for the girl's company, Silverton thought, and that was a complication he really didn't need.

He sat down in an overstuffed floral armchair, murmuring a quiet thanks when Meredith brought him tea but declining an offer of a thick slice of plum cake. Both Annabel and Robert enthusiastically accepted plates loaded with cake and scones topped with thick-clotted cream. Clearly, the distressing events of the last hour had done little to dampen their youthful appetites.