He responded in the only way an honourable man could, with a blank look and an obtuse smile. ‘This has been very informative. But now I think it best that you take me to your sister.’
The further they got from the bedrooms, the more the old proper Miss Strickland returned. Her spine stiffened and her smile disappeared. Her sweet lips pursed into a frown. By the time they’d reached the library, she was in high dudgeon and stormed into the room, hands on hips to confront her sister. ‘Charity, how could you?’
Miss Charity barely looked up from the pile of dusty journals that surrounded her. ‘Quite easily, I assure you. I walked to the George and got my ticket for the eight o’clock coach...’
‘You walked all the way to the George! At night and unescorted? Are you mad?’
The argument carried on without him, for Gregory had stopped on the threshold, momentarily stunned by the room. In his experience, people kept their libraries on the sunny side of the house to make best use of the available light when reading. But this had to be the darkest room he’d ever seen. It was full noon outside, but the frost-blasted ivy climbing the windows and the velvet curtains surrounding them left the room as dark as a crypt.
‘I see you have brought Mr Drake with you to scold me as well,’ Charity said, ignoring her sister’s questions. ‘Come in, Mr Drake. And the answer to your question is that it is better for the books.’
He started at being addressed, for he had said nothing to indicate the direction of his thoughts.
He was trying to frame the best response to her statement when she clarified it for him. ‘You were standing on the threshold, staring at the windows, and I assumed you must be wondering why the room is so dark. It is because it has been designed with the comfort of the books in mind and not the readers. Too much light cracks the bindings and fades the ink.’
‘I see,’ he said, stepping into the room and joining the pair of sisters.
‘We did not come all this way to admire the architecture,’ Hope snapped. ‘We have come to take you home.’
‘Back to London, you mean,’ Charity replied. ‘Must I remind you that the town house is not my home any more than the manor is? At the moment, as you have been pointing out each time you hector me, we do not have a home. Nor did I have any money for alternate transportation.’
‘You could have taken the Comstock equipage.’
‘And left you and Grandmother with nothing? You’d have refused to allow it.’
‘Ladies,’ Gregory Drake said softly, holding his hands palm out to signal a stop to the conversation.
They both turned to look at him, a matching fire in their very different brown eyes.
He spoke to Hope in his most diplomatic tone, as if she were any other client and not the woman he wished to marry. ‘Miss Strickland, need I remind you that you brought me here in hopes that I would mediate for you? I cannot do that if you wish to speak for yourself.’
She opened her mouth ready to retort, then snapped it shut again and shot another hot glare at her sister before turning back to him. ‘Reason with her. It is plain that I cannot.’
When she made no move to leave, he added a conciliatory smile. ‘It might be easier if you took this opportunity to refresh yourself from our journey. Then we might all meet again and discuss the matter over supper.’ He had hoped to be gone by then. But if he wanted to settle the matter quickly, he had best give her some reason to co-operate.
Her jaw gave another involuntary snap and clench. Then it relaxed as it occurred to her that he had just promised to stay the night. She cast a final glare at Charity, then smiled at him. ‘I shall see you both at eight. In the dining room,’ she added, staring at her sister and the empty tea tray sitting on the table beside her. Then she quit the room.
There was a moment’s silence after the door latch clicked shut. Then Charity looked up at him with a stubborn smile. ‘Now, I suppose you shall call me an impertinent child and threaten to drag me back to London to do penance at Almack’s for my misbehaviour.’
‘The thought had crossed my mind,’ he said. He looked at the chair beside her, calculated its probable level of discomfort when compared with everything else wrong in the room and then leaned a hip against a nearby library table. ‘Save me the time and tell me if it will be effective.’
‘No,’ she said, with another smile.
‘Then I shall have to try a different tack. I shall reason with you, as I would a man.’
‘A truly novel approach,’ she said with a surprised nod.
‘I understand that you could not have asked for the family carriage, because you were sure the answer would be no.’
‘You have met my sister. Do you doubt it?’
‘But by leaving suddenly, you gave her unnecessary worry. That was quite unfair of you.’
There was a flash of something like contrition on the girl’s face, before she said, ‘Her refusal would have been unfair as well.’
He ignored her defence and went on. ‘Apparently, she had reason to be concerned about you. You were safe enough on the mail coach. But it is dangerous of you to walk the streets at dusk alone. You may think that you are protected from robbery and assault by a plain face and a quick mind. But you aren’t much more than seven stone soaking wet and there is no woman alive who is ugly enough to avoid unwanted attention from a certain type of ruffian.’
‘I admit to my mistake,’ she said. ‘But at the time, I saw no other solution.’
