“Then your staff could use a fake name for her,” Diana said with sudden hope. “No one need know who she really is.”
“Stop trying to make me do it,” Francis said warningly, just as Diana huffed again.
“Very well, I will have to think of something else then,” she said, taking a step away.
“Where are you going?” Francis called after her.
“To find my friend, before her husband does,” Diana called back. As Francis turned his head to Josiah, he could see the glare.
“You rarely glare at me so. That suggests I have done something wrong, though for the life of me I cannot see an error in what I have just done,” he said quickly just as Josiah took his arm. “Ah, when did you get so strong?” He winced at the vice-like grip.
“Practicing fencing,” Josiah said offhandedly as he steered Francis out of the room. “That reminds me, we need another re-match now that you are back from the continent. I will win next time.”
“Judging by your increased strength, I think I will pass,” Francis grimaced just as his friend released him in the corridor outside the Argyll Rooms. “Why are we out here?”
“So that we may speak freely, without fear of being overheard,” Josiah explained, leaning on a wall nearby with folded arms.
“Don’t you judge me for this, Josiah,” Francis said, looking away from his friend.
“I’m not judging you. Were I you right now, I would have made the same decision.”
“Good.”
“But that is merely because you do not know what I know,” Josiah’s words prompted Francis to spin back around and stare at his friend.
“What do you know?” he asked.
“Diana met Lady Ridlington last year. The friendship was instant and since then they have become very dear to each other.” As Josiah began, Francis went to interrupt but his friend held up a finger, urging to let him finish. “In the last year, I cannot tell you how many times Lady Ridlington has turned up at our house, trying her best to hide her tears.”
“Her husband makes her cry?” Francis asked.
“He does worse than that,” Josiah said, glancing up and down the corridor to ensure it was empty before taking a step away from the wall to whisper even more quietly to Francis. “I have seen her wearing scarves and long shawls to hide bruises. I even saw her once fussing with a long sleeve of her dress to hide something on her arm. She thought I hadn’t seen, but I did. It was a long cut.”
Francis paused and cast his gaze downward. A man who beat a woman, in his mind, deserved hell itself. There was no forgivable reason for it – it was nothing but cruel, spawned by a man who desired control, that was all.
“He beats her,” he summarized, just as Josiah nodded.
“He does,” he agreed. “I once saw them at an event where he twisted Lady Ridlington’s arm behind her back. He thought they were alone, fortunately I had taken a turn about the garden and caught them. I dread to think what he would have done had I not stumbled across them, forcing him to stop. Quite frankly, Francis, if I could offer her a safe house for good, I would not be hesitating in doing so. Yet their worries are well founded. If I were to hide Lady Ridlington in my house beyond tonight, her husband would merely send a search party to my home and find her.”
Francis was breathing deeply as he looked back through the doorway into the assembly rooms they had just left. He was thinking of the short and delicate woman he had just danced with, the shynessand the blushing of her cheeks.
How could any man harm such a woman?It made no sense to him, and actually made him feel rather sick.
“I cannot tell you what to do, my friend,” Josiah said, moving to his side and also peering back into the rooms. “I would never presume to do so, regardless, but I can give you some advice. You can take a risk where I am not able to. To be frank, I would jump through hoops to see that woman safe. What will you do?”
Francis snapped his gaze back to his friend, but it was clear Josiah wasn’t expecting an answer, not yet at least. He clapped Francis on the shoulder before walking back into the assembly.
For some minutes, Francis stood alone, ruffling his hair and thinking hard on what he had been told. He hadn’t made up his mind yet, but he was wavering. The conviction with which he had turned down the request for sanctuary had dissipated completely.
“I have to see her,” he muttered to himself as he walked into the assembly, with his head darting back and forth as he searched for Lady Ridlington. When he found her, she was once again in the corner of the room, apparently having a disliking for being in the middle. She was alone though, staring down at a punch glass in her hands.
He crossed toward her, and when he reached her side, he appeared to make her jump so much that the punch nearly sloshed out of the rim of her glass for a second time that evening.
“Your Grace,” she spoke with surprise and hurried to curtsy.
“There is something I need to know,” he said softly, not bothering with the propriety when his mind was just on one thing.The beatings.
“What is that?” she asked, frowning and clearly not understand what he meant.
