Hugh’s sandy brows rose at her comment. Just moments ago she had been blaming him. His lips tightened to suppress a smile.
Adeline rose from her knees to move away only to feel her sister’s arm restraining her. Vanessa edged closer toward the back of the sofa, making space for Adeline to perch beside her.
Casting a nervous glance in Mr. Wilmot’s direction, Adeline settled herself next to her sister. “Oh, it was all my fault,” whispered Adeline, folding her hands over Vanessa’s. “I’m afraid I hit her with a volume of Greek essays.”
“My classical studies professor at Oxford always said the Greek essays carried power,” murmured Hugh, “but until now, I failed to understand his precise meaning.”
His wry sally was rewarded with a flickering smile from Vanessa and a hostile glare from Mr. Wilmot.
“What are you doing here?” the man demanded.
“I could ask you the same, with much more justification,” replied Hugh calmly. He stood at his leisure, appearing unintimidated, a circumstance Mr. Wilmot was not accustomed to when he was angry. Men quaked and placated him; they did not stand nonchalantly. His eyes narrowed.
“I’ve come to take Miss Mannion driving,” he said challengingly.
“Yes, a beautiful day for a drive. I could wish for a rig of my own on a day like today. Pity she’s no longer up for it,” drawled Hugh.
“How did this happen?” Wilmot ground out, turning to fix Adeline with a malevolent stare.
She blinked and slouched a little, closer to Vanessa.
“You have no call to browbeat my sister, Mr. Wilmot!” Vanessa declared, pushing herself up on her elbows to address him. “And I’ll thank you to mend your tone. I have a splitting headache that your insistent thundering is aggravating.” She sank wearily back against the pillows.
He flushed and instinctively stepped back at her ferocious words, and Hugh Talverton smiled at his unconscious action. It was apparent the man was not used to people standing up to him.
"Adeline!”called Mr. Mannion from the hallway. “Adeline, what happened in my library?” He strode angrily into the room, stopping short when he saw the assembled tableau. “Egad, what’s going on here? Wilmot, if you’ve harmed my daughter . . .”
“What?” demanded Mr. Wilmot.
“No, Father—” interrupted Vanessa exasperatedly.
“It was all my fault,” chimed in Adeline.
“Quick assumptions can be quite amusing,” said Mr. Talverton to no one in particular.
Vanessa tilted her head back and attempted to frown at him, only to burst out laughing at his insouciant expression. “Oh, please, don’t make me laugh. It only hurts more.” She looked back at her father. “I was helping Adeline retrieve some of her pressed flowers. They were in your Greek works, and she needed to stand on a stool to reach them,” she explained patiently. “While on the stool, she lost her balance and hit me in the face with the book she held. That’s all. It was a silly accident, and now I wish everyone would go away. This grand assembly only increases my embarrassment.”
“Your wish, fair damsel in distress, is my command,” responded Hugh with alacrity, his voice almost whisper-soft, subtly reminding her of the first time he’d played the gallant knight. He smiled at her and raised her hand to bestow a chaste salute. She looked so interestingly wan, laying back against the pillow, her light brown hair sagging out of its formal coiffure, leaving wispy tendrils to wave across the pale skin of her brow and echo the tiny frown lines etched there, mute testimony to her battle with pain. A strange wave of tenderness surged over him. He paused, staring at her a moment as he rode out the wave of feeling.
“Just remember,” he added with a wink, in quite his usual arrogant manner, “keep the beef in place. I shall return tomorrow with Trevor to see how you are faring, if that is permissible.”
She nodded, sinking back limply into the pillows.
He turned to bid farewell to the others, his voice hushed. He was pleased to hear them respond in equally hushed tones.
Chapter 8
Trevor Danielson closed the door to his office and joined Hugh on the banquette. “You say Wilmot acted as though he was expected?” he said as they strolled up the street in the bright afternoon sun.
Hugh nodded slowly. “Yes, and I was nonplussed by his appearance, I’ll admit.” They sidestepped a couple of ragamuffin street urchins laughing and chasing each other. Hugh turned to watch them a moment, an amused smile lighting his face. When he looked back at Trevor, his features sobered and he shook his head. “Yet, I’d hazard Vanessa was not surprised at his appearance,” he continued dryly. “I believe she may have been expecting him. Regardless, I gathered she was grateful for the accident which prevented their outing.”
“So I would think. I wonder why she even deigned to see him?”
“I cannot say. What was interesting was Richard’s first assumption that Wilmot was responsible for her injury.”
“Odd. It sounds as if he has found some way to ingratiate himself with them. I wonder if we are not too late, and he has succeeded in his negotiations for her hand and Richard’s business.”
“If so, it is not with Vanessa’s agreement. We shall have to redouble our efforts to turn her attention and his,” Hugh said grimly.
