An Unexpected Gentleman Part 5

He remembered that February day with perfectly clarity. After three months of being incarcerated, head glanced out the cell window with little expectation of seeing more than the depressingly familiar view of the frozen courtyard. But what head seen was Adelaidea"standing in the bitter winter wind with her worn coat whipping about her ankles, and her arms wrapped protectively around an infant coc.o.o.ned in a sea of blankets.

Shead stopped to speak with a guard and turned her face up when the guard pointed at the second floor of the debtorsa wing.

Connor hadnat been able to see the color of her eyes. He hadnat known her name, where shead come from, or why she was at the prison. But none of that seemed to matter. Head experienced the most excruciating longing to reach out and touch, to brush the back of his hand against the cool silk of her wind-kissed cheeks, to draw her into the shelter of his coat and feel her grow warm in his arms.

Head never before had such an immediate, visceral reaction to a woman. Head known instant l.u.s.t, even immediate fascination. But head never known such a hollow longing. Head realized it was illogical, even embarra.s.sing, but head reveled in every fantastical second, drinking in every inch of her until she nodded to the guard and disappeared into the prison.

Head turned from the window then, disturbed that he should be so powerfully affected by a mere glimpse of a woman. That was the sort of maudlin nonsense to which other men, lesser men, succ.u.mbed. Dandies spoke of the angel they had seen from across a crowded ballroom. Poets waxed on about the captivating maiden they had spied from afar. Men of sound mind were not taken in by that sort of romantic rubbish.

Head gone too long without the company of a woman, that was the trouble. Abstinence did terrible things, unnatural things, to a manas mind. And yet, twenty minutes later, head gone back to the window. And head gone back again and againa"every Sat.u.r.day for months, hoping for that next glimpse.

Head built harmless fantasies around her when head thought her married . . . Mostly harmless . . . A man couldnat be blamed for the odd lurid thought. Once he was free and had access to all his funds, he would pay her husbandas debts anonymously, and perhaps set something aside for the child.

When head learned her name and that she was coming to visit a wastrel brother, Connor decided head clear the debts and give Adelaide the home and income her brother was clearly incapable of providing. The notion of marriage was considered and rejected. He didnat want the responsibility of a wife distracting him from his quest for revenge. Perhaps after . . .

Then head heard of Sir Robertas courtship, and everything changed. There would be no anonymous donations. There would be no after. She would be his.

In the study, Connor set the carving back on the desk.

Adelaide Ward had always been his.

Chapter 9.

The late summer sun beat down mercilessly on Adelaide as she made the return trip down the droveras trail. There wasnat a hint of chill in the air. And yet she felt cold down to her very bones.

A means to an end, thatas all she was to Connor Brice.

She gathered her cloak around herself like fitted armor. She tried to do the same with her anger, but it slipped out of reach faster than she could grab hold, pushed aside by exhaustion and bitter disappointment. And the d.a.m.n stinging of her feet.

ad.a.m.n and blast.a Abandoning the notion of reaching the relative sanctuary of her chambers as quickly as possible, she stopped to rest on a fallen log. She sat on it gingerly, thinking it would be just her luck to discover the center was rotted through after she took a seat.

It held. Which was more than could be said for her composure.

She pulled her right shoe off, glared at the thin, worn sole, then hurled it at a nearby tree with all her strength.

ab.l.o.o.d.y . . . d.a.m.n . . . h.e.l.l . . .a Oh, how she wished she knew how to swear properly. ab.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l!a And that was it. That was the last of her immediately available anger. Feeling the fight go out of her, she lowered her head to her hands and groaned.

She didnat cry. The tears were there, she could feel them pressing against the back of her eyes, and pooling into a heavy weight in the center of her chest, but she ignored both sensations. She had no right to feel sorry for herself. Her circ.u.mstances were as much her own doing as Connoras. The fact that he was a charlatan and a cheat did not excuse how readily she had succ.u.mbed to his charm and lies. Shead not come to the house party a nave young girl fresh from the nursery. She was seven-and-twenty and, for all intents and purposes, the head of a household. She ought to have known better.

She ought to have done so many things differently.

The pressure in her chest built. She fought it back, lifted her head, and blew out a long, hard breath.

She was not, absolutely not going to make matters worse by indulging in a bout of tears. Crying would accomplish nothing more than to give her a red nose and stuffy head. And she needed a clear head to think.

There were choices to be made, steps to be taken, more questions that needed to be answered.

How long did she have to make a decision? Was there some sort of time limit? A day? Two? Could she put the decision off for a week? She had to put it off until she spoke with Wolfgang, at least.

As much as she hated to give credence to anything Connor said, she was forced to admit it was unlikely head imply Sir Robert knew something of Wolfgangas debt unless there was some truth to the accusation. He had nothing to gain by making an idle lie.

Sir Robert was connected to her brotheras troubles. She couldnat decide on anything until she knew the details of that connection. She needed all the facts.

Good Lord, she wasnat sure she could stomach any more facts. Already, she knew more about Sir Robert and Connor Brice than she cared to . . . No, that wasnat true. She didnat like what shead learned, but she was better off for knowing. It was always better to be informed, wasnat it? Much better to enter marriage without an idealized perception of her bridegroom. There would be no rude awakening after the wedding, no unrealistic expectations guaranteed to end in bitter disappointment. Two days ago, she would have walked into marriage with Sir Robert blindly. Now she could choose her path with open eyes.

It was, arguably, the one bright spot in the entire black affair.

Brushing off her skirts, she rose from the log and hobbled over to fetch her shoe. She would concentrate on that bright spot and hope it was enough to illuminate each new step as she took it. Move forward, reevaluate footing, and move forward againa"it was a prudent plan of action. Mountains were scaled one step at a time.

A strange sense of calm fell over her as she set aside her fears of the days and weeks to come and focused only on what needed to be done next.

Her spinning world narrowed down to a series of small, steady, and manageable tasks. She walked back to the house in a kind of daze. She spoke with Lilly and Winnefred, who a.s.sured her she could take a few days to make her decision. Then she helped Isobel pack, went to bed before dark, and rose at dawn to direct the loading of the carriage.

She spent the two-hour return trip staring blankly out the window, her only thought aside from her next step that she should have eaten something to settle the mild ache in her belly before leaving the house party.

Isobel slept, closing her eyes while theyad still been in Mrs. Cressas drive and not opening them again until the carriage came to a stop in front of the prison, four miles from their home.

Rumpled, eyes blurred with sleep, she glanced out the window and frowned. aWhy are we here?a aI need to speak with Wolfgang.a Adelaideas voice sounded distant and dull in her head. aThe carriage will take you home.a aIall come with you. Or wait, if you prefer.a Adelaide shook her head and reached for the door handle. aFetch George from Mrs. McFee. Weave inconvenienced her long enough.a She hopped out of the carriage and hurried into the shadow of the looming stone building before Isobel could argue.

The prison was relatively new, built in the last decade to house an overflow of criminals from Edinburgh and an influx of French soldiers captured during the war. The first time Adelaide had visited her brother here, shead been struck by the sheer size of the place, and the sense of gloom and despair that seemed to all but seep from its stones. She hardly noticed either anymore. Today, she pa.s.sed through the gate and strode through the courtyard without paying heed to the towering walls or the few lethargic figures milling about in what scant sunlight could be found. She followed a guard down the long maze of halls without hearing the voices of inmates or noticing the smell of old straw and sweat.

Wolfgang had a private cell, courtesy of his position as a gentleman, and the few extra coins Adelaide had slipped to the appropriate official. Shead paid the bribe for Georgeas sake and her own piece of mind. Neither she nor George needed to become acquainted with the other inmates.

The guard stopped outside Wolfgangas cell and pushed the door open for her in invitation. Debtors were free to move about their wing, take a bit of air, and exercise in the yard. Wolfgang rarely took advantage of the opportunity.

Stepping into the small, dark room, she watched as Wolfgang rose from a cot in the corner. As always, Adelaide was struck by how little he resembled the boy shead once known. Head been plump as a child, his features soft, round, and invariably lit with a grin.

Shead adored him then, the younger brother who could tease her out of a pout with a jest and a smile. The carefree boy who had raced with her about their fatheras estate and enticed her into adventures in the fields and woods beyond.

It was difficult to see that boy in the man standing before her now. Wolfgang had grown gaunt, despite the extra food she brought each week. His face was haggard and drawn, with sharp angles and sunken eyes. They were less than two years apart in age, and yet he looked to have aged two decades beyond her.

aAre you going to come in properly,a he asked, aor stand there gaping at me like a landed fish?a aWolfgang.a She crossed the room and pressed a kiss to his cheek. The skin felt thin and rough from his night beard. aYou need to shave.a aMy valetas gone missing. What are you doing here? Shouldnat you be ina"a He broke off, and his features lit with a rare smile. aYouave come with news, havenat you? You brought Sir Robert up to scratch. Knew you would. I knewa"a aIave come to ask you a question.a He actually grinned at her. aIf itas my permission to marry, you have it.a It had been so long since shead seen him happy, she was almost tempted to hold her tongue and enjoy the all-but-forgotten pleasure. Almost. aWho holds your final debt?a The moment of pleasure was lost. His face fell, and he groaned. aNot this again, Adelaide. Weave gone overa"a aWho, Wolfgang?a She snapped at him. The calm of the last day was slowly wearing away. aIs it Sir Robert?a Hooded eyes skittered away. aNo, of course not.a Connor was right. Wolfgang was an abysmal liar. aOh, G.o.d. How much?a He pinched his lips together briefly before answering. aWhat does it matter?a What sort of question was that? aHow much?a He turned to look out the window. There was a long moment of weighted silence before he gave her the answer under his breath.

aA thousand pounds.a She couldnat speak. She couldnat move.

A thousand pounds. It was far more than she had antic.i.p.ated, three times the total of his other debts. They would never be able to repay such a sum.

aItas not my fault,a Wolfgang snapped suddenly. He spun from the window, his face a heartbreaking mix of indignation and poorly concealed guilt. aThe ship was lost.a She shook her head at him and wished the numbness would return and swallow her whole. They were ruined, utterly ruined. aWhat ship?a aThe one carrying sugar from St. Lucia. Sir Robert swore wead make a fortune.a aThis was Sir Robertas idea?a Her mouth fell open. aYou took . . . For pityas sake, Wolfgang, did it not occur to you to think carefully before accepting financial advice from a man who would loan money to someone in debtorsa prison?a aHe said he would do it for you, that he wished to help the family.a aAnd you believed him?a aWhy wouldnat I have?a Wolfgang threw his hands up. aWhat did I have to lose? I was already here.a aYou,a she snapped. aYou are here. Not your son, nor your sisters. How could you think so little of us? How could you allow Sir Robert to court me without informing me of hisa"a aSir Robert told me to say nothing.a aAll the more reason you should have said something,a she bit off.

aAnd have you turn your back on him?a aAs I should! You canat possibly expect me to have anything to do with him now.a Something like panic flashed across his features. aYou must. You have to. Itas the only way Iall ever be free of this place. If you marry Sir Robert, heall pay my creditors and forgive whatas owed to him.a aDid he tell you this?a aYes. Essentially,a he amended. aHe said he would see me freed once you were married.a aAnd encouraged you to promote the match.a And Wolfgang had most certainly promoted the match, speaking of little else on their visits. Sir Robert this, Sir Robert that. It made her sick to think of it now.

aI didnat see the harm in it. You looked to be taken with him, and itas a sound match.a He swore under his breath. aHeall not like that Iave told you. He may not offer ifa"a aSir Robert has already offered. So has Mr. Brice.a aWho the devil is Mr. Brice?a aA gentleman I met at the house party.a Wolfgang shook his head in dismissal. aIave never heard of him. You accepted Sir Robertas offer, of course.a aNo. And Iave no thought of doing so now.a All this time, Sir Robert had been paying compliments to her with one tongue and threatening her brother with another. It turned her stomach.

aDonat be a fool. The manas a baron. You canat deny a baron.a aI can and shall.a aHeall not stand for it. You donat know him, Adelaide. You donat know what heas capable of.a A long, painful silence followed that statement. Adelaide watched as Wolfgang began to pace in short, quick strides across the room. There had been a time, when they were young, that she had found amus.e.m.e.nt in their sharing of that habit. But now, with every step he took, with every moment that pa.s.sed, another joyful memory turned black. The implications of his words didnat occur to him. She didnat occur to him.

This was not the boy she loved. This was not the playmate of her youth.

aIs there something you would like to tell me about the man you would have me marry?a she asked thickly. Wolfgang appeared not to take notice. He offered her only an irritated shake of his head and continued on with his pacing, mumbling to himself about barons and debts and finding them all a way out of the d.a.m.nable mess.

Adelaide had heard enough. She turned from him and headed for the door.

aI shall not bring George to see you . . . this Sat.u.r.day.a Shead almost said ever. But she wasnat sure if that would be punishing the father or the son.

aWhy?a Wolfgang demanded at her back. aWhere will you be?a She couldnat bring herself to turn around and look at him. She wrenched the door open and strode into the hall with a parting shot over her shoulder.

aPlanning a d.a.m.n wedding.a

Chapter 10.

Adelaide was spared the nearly four-mile walk home by accepting a ride on a cart from a pa.s.sing farmer. After a time, the fresh air and rhythmic rocking served to clear her mind and settle her temper. Another step was completed. It had been painful, but necessary and productive. Shead gained the information shead needed to make the most sensible choice.

Her next step was to formally accept Connoras offer. Some of Adelaideas burgeoning composure withered at the thought. Telling Connor head have his way wasnat going to be painful; it was going to be excruciating. And humiliating, and terrifying, and . . .

Her list was cut short when her home came into view and she spotted Sir Robertas carriage sitting in the drive.

Oh, blast.

He must have left the house party directly after her and Isobel. She wasnat ready to see him. Shead been buildinga"or attempting to builda"herself up to speak with Connor, not Sir Robert. What did she say to him? There were any number of things she wanted to say, but Wolfgang was right on at least one account. Sir Robert was a baron. He would take neither her rejection nor her censure lightly.

To give herself time to think, she bid the farmer to stop a ways from the house and walked the last few hundred yards of road slowly, her eyes soaking in the familiar surroundings.

Because the house and grounds were entailed, they were the only things her brother could not lose to debt. Wolfgang often bemoaned the inconvenience of owning property that couldnat be sold. Adelaide often said a prayer of thanks for the same thing.

She loved her home. Every square foot of brick and timber and every inch of land was filled with the cherished memories of her childhood.

The house had never been grand. It claimed but five bedrooms and two servantsa quarters. There was no ballroom or orangery. The front parlor was small by ton standards, and the dining room could fit no more than twelve. Despite its modest proportions, however, the house had been tended and furnished as carefully as any grand manor. There hadnat been a door that squeaked, a fireplace that smoked, or a piece of furniture in need of repair or replacement.

That had changed in the years since her parentsa deaths. They could no longer afford the staff needed to keep the house in good repair. Most of the chimneys were no longer safe to use, and half the doors couldnat be opened or closed without a good shove. Items of value had been sold to pay Wolfgangas mounting debt. Even most of her beloved flower garden had gone to seed or been turned over to make room for beets and turnips. Her motheras roses remained, but Adelaide rarely had the time and energy to do more than trim them back once a year, and cut the occasional flower that bloomed despite her neglect.

She stopped outside the front door, gathering her courage. The house had fallen to ruin before Sir Robert had come into their lives. He couldnat be held responsible for that, but he could d.a.m.n well be held responsible for the absence of its master. Baron or not, he would answer for that.

Resolute, she opened the door and stepped inside. The foyer was small and in sight of half the downstairs when the parlor doors were open. They were open now, but the moment Adelaide entered, Isobel appeared, blocking her from view.

Isobel took her cloak and whispered in her ear, aHeas in the parlor. Iall send him away if you like. Tell him you have the headache.a aThank you, but no. Is George upstairs?a She waited for Isobelas confirmation. aWill you be certain he stays there, please?a Isobel pressed her lips together but nodded. aIf you need me, youave only to shout.a Adelaide almost laughed at that. For pityas sake, Sir Robert was a baron, not a one-man firing squad. And, really, if anyone ought to be feeling unnerved, it was him.

He didnat look unnerved in the least. The moment Isobel moved away, Adelaide saw Sir Robert standing in front of the settee, waiting for her. The vibrant yellow of his waistcoat clashed dreadfully with his hair and stood in stark contrast to the worn, faded colors of her grandmotheras old carpet and settee. His confident and condescending air clashed with her temper. She wasnat sure how one could appear condescending, but Sir Robert always seemed to manage it.

He moved as if to take her hand and draw her into the room. aMy dear Miss Ward.a She hurried forward of her own volition, hands gripped behind her back. aSir Robert. Youave returned early.a aWell, of course I have.a His tone and expression turned chiding. aYou left without word.a aMy departure was expected.a aDarling girl, if we had arrived at an understanding beforea"a aI would like to understand why you saw fit to extend a loan to my brother.a Sir Robert started at the question. And who could blame him? It was far more blunt than shead intended, but her patience was sorely tried. Besides, it was better to get what was sure to be an objectionable experience over and done with.

She tilted her head when he continued to stand there, looking flabbergasted. aDo you mean to deny it?a Finally, he blinked and cleared his throat. aI do not.a To this, he added a sniff of disapproval and an aside. aWolfgang should not have brought you into it.a Oh, the nerve of the man. aYou should not have brought yourself into my familyas affairs.a aI would beg for the chance to explain.a Nothing about his tone or appearance lent itself to the notion of begging. He looked as sure of himself as he had when shead walked into the room. And it was only out of a sense of fairness that Adelaide suppressed the urge to toss him from her home that very instant. Connor and her brother had been given an opportunity to make the accusations. Sir Robert had the right to mount a defense.

aVery well,a she agreed. aIf youave an explanation to give, I shall listen.a aWill you sit?a She took a seat on the settee with reluctance and gave a m.u.f.fled yelp when something hard poked her in the lower back. A quick reach between the cushions and she retrieved Georgeas favorite wooden spoon.

Sir Robert stared at it. aEr . . .a aMy nephew fancies himself a percussionist.a She gripped the spoon and silently dared Sir Robert to challenge the explanation. George was not yet two. He fancied digging in the dirt, the occasional foray into his own nose, and hitting things that made noise.

Sir Robert gave a strained smile. aTalented, is he?a aQuite.a She set the spoon aside. aYou were explaining?a aRight.a He glanced at the spoon again, then away. aRight. It all began shortly after the start of our courtship. You received a small inheritance. A very small . . .a He trailed off at her incredulous looka"was there a man in Britain not sticking his nose into her business?a"and had the decency to look abashed. aForgive me, I took an interest in the well-being of the woman I intend to marry.a aYou might have expressed that interest by asking instead of prying,a she chided. And, oh, it was gratifying to use that tone of voice with him.

Sir Robert seemed not to hear her. aI was aware that the funds you received were sufficient to pay your brotheras debts.a aThey were.a Shead actually paid two of them before discovering the futility of paying any.

Sir Robert nodded. aI also knew something of your brother, and I knew once he was released there would be nothing to stop him from returning to his old habits. I couldnat allow that to happen. I did what I thought best.a aYou made the loan knowing he couldnat pay it back?a aCertainly not.a He hesitated, not looking all that certain. aI knew, however, that the investment was a considerable risk. My reasoning was, he would either earn a profit sufficient to keep him occupied until we wed, or he would remain in prison.a aBecause of you.a A hint of impatience crossed his face. aWhat would you have had me do? Free him? Give him the opportunity to ruin you? Watch the woman I adore lose the little she has left? He would have spent that inheritance in a fortnight and left you with nothing.a aIad not have given him the money to spend. Iave more sense than that. And honestly, that is neither here nor there. Youave lied to me.a aI never meanta"a aDid you not think to ask what I wished? Did it not occur to you to speak with me of this decision?a A furrow worked between his brows. aMatters of a financial naturea"a aI have cared for the finances of my family for some time.a aYou have performed the role of matriarch with aplomb. No one can dismiss the steadfast loyalty and good sense you have shown in the care of your family. You are an exemplary woman, Miss Ward. Your accomplishments are to be lauded.a He paused, and once again, his tone turned condescending. aBut you are only a woman. You lead with your heart.a She wanted to lead with the broad head of the wooden spoon. aI am not a silly chit just come from the nursery, sir.a aIad not have courted you these four months if you were,a he replied with extreme patience. aAnswer me thisa"if your inheritance had been sufficient to free your brother, would you have done so?a aHeas my brother.a And most siblings searched for ways to bring their brothers out of prison, she thought, not put them in.

aWith the heart,a he repeated in a tone that made her feel like a foolish little girl. aWolfgang would have pet.i.tioned the courts for what was left of your inheritance. You do know that.a The thought had occurred to her, but at the time, shead retained some faith in her brotheras loyalty and honesty. But that faith had been shaken. Would Wolfgang have respected the terms of their cousinas will? She honestly didnat know, and her uncertainty must have shown, because Sir Robert shook his head and pressed his advantage.

aCan you not see freeing your brother for the mistake it would have been?a It troubled her that she could see it might have been a mistake. She hated that there existed the possibility that he was right.

Sir Robert sighed. aPerhaps it was my own mistake to have kept my involvement from you. But I can only claim the best of intentions.a It wasnat an apology, but it was an admittance of fault. She wondered how sincere that generosity was, and how deep it ran. aIf I asked it of you, would you free him now?a He shook his head. aWhen we marry. When I can protect you from his excesses.a Not all that deep, apparently. aBut ifa"a aTrust me, Adelaide. Trust me to do what is best for you and your family.a He reached out and took her hand. aYou need me, darling. Let us put this matter to rest.a She hesitated, then gave a distracted nod. There didnat seem any point in further argument. Sir Robert was not going to be persuaded that he was in the wrong. And though she wasnat ready to forgive his methods, she conceded that his intentionsa"however misguideda"had been good. And really, wasnat it better that they should be able to part ways on civil terms?

aExcellent.a Sir Robert said, a new cheer in his voice. aIall have the banns posted immediately.a aWhat? No.a She didnat mean to snap the refusal, or to yank her hand free of his, or to leap off the settee as if shead been bitten in the backside, but she did all three.

Good Lord, that was not the matter shead thought they were putting to rest.

Evidently, Sir Robert thought it was. He reared back, pale blue eyes going wide. aWhat the . . . What do you mean, no?a aI thought we were agreeing to end our argument, not wed. Sir Robert, I am most dreadfully sorrya"a Only, she wasnat, particularly. aBut in light of all of this, I cannot marrya"a aYou must marry.a He rose from his seat, gripped his hands behind his back, and leaned toward her to impart in an excessively patient tone, aMy dear, you have been compromised.a She clenched her jaw and prayed for patience of her own. For pityas sake, did he suspect her of having forgotten? Or somehow having overlooked that minor episode in the garden, and the one in the study, and the reason for her prompt departure? How ridiculous did he believe her to be?

aMiss Ward?a aI was not compromised by you,a she ground out.

He straightened, slowly. aYou cannot be consideringa"a aLady Engsly suggested that I should consider all of my options, and that is what Iave done. Mr. Brice has made a respectable offer, anda"a aThere is nothing respectable about Connor Brice.a Very little, to be sure. And yet he was the wiser choice. Good heavens, how depressing. aBe that as it may, and whatever your opinion of Mr. Brice, he hasa"a aYou will not speak of him to me!a Adelaide snapped her mouth shut, more out of shock than a willingness to obey.

Sir Robert looked to be on the very edge of control, and losing ground. His lips twisted. His skin grew red, and something dark and ugly clouded his eyes. When his hands curled into fists at his side, she took an instinctive step back. Shead never been the sole focus of his temper before. Head been mildly put out with her in private, a little exasperated, but never truly angry. Even in the garden, it had been Connor whoad taken the brunt of Sir Robertas displeasure.

Her eyes darted to the wooden spoon. Sir Robert stood between her and it. She edged a little closer to the door.

She neednat have bothered. The storm pa.s.sed as quickly as it had come. Sir Robert bowed his head and blew out a small, quiet breath. When he looked at her again, his color was returning to normal, his expression serene.

Good Lord, and shead thought Connor mercurial. She wondered how the brothers would take the news that they had more in common than ancestry. Probably not well, and considering Sir Robertas appearance a moment ago, she wisely kept the observation to herself.

aMy poor girl,a Sir Robert intoned. aYou have been through a trial, havenat you? And here I am, acting the heartless ogre, insisting on a forgiveness Iave not yet earned.a Forgiveness? She wasnat certain if he was speaking of his failure to guard his brother, his failure to mention his involvement with Wolfgangas imprisonment, or his failure to treat her with a modic.u.m of respect. At present, she didnat care. She just wanted him to leave. Her regrets could be sent in a letter.

Sir Robert surprised her yet again, by stepping forward and brushing her cheek with his fingers. She immediately reconsidered the necessity of a retreat. His hand was cool and gentle, yet her stomach turned in protest of the touch.

aIall call on you tomorrow,a he promised.

Oh, d.a.m.n. aIam afraid tomorrow will not be possible. I . . . Iave only just arrived home, you see, and . . . and there are all manner of duties that went neglected in my absence. My nephewa"a aYes. Yes, of course.a He nodded in understanding. aYou need a day or two to settle in. I shall call on you later in the week.a She offered a noncommittal ahmma and curtsy and indulged in a long sigh of relief after he bowed and let himself out.

Another step completed, she thought. Well, another step nearly completed. She still needed to write the letter. But right now, she needed something else.

Antic.i.p.ation sent a tingle along her skin as she crossed the room and climbed the stairs, careful to avoid the very center of the third step. It had a disconcerting tendency to bow in the middle.