Genova watched the pair leave, thinking that Sheena might have a clearer idea of her place in this world than she had. What sort of madness said that she could marry a marquess?
She climbed the elegant stairs to the half landing to observe again. This in-between spot was more in keeping with her position. Ash was down in the heart of things, near the fireplace, where the log was now in place. She was apart, up here.
She remembered leaning on the balustrade in the Lion and Unicorn, admiring a virile stranger.
He was still a stranger in some ways, but she knew him. She knew him deep in her heart, soul, and gut.
Then she realized that being up here felt like being on the bridge of one of her father’s ships. She’d been blessed by good parents and an interesting life. What would her father have to say about her strange new adventures if he knew?
Keep a solid ship beneath your feet, Genni-love, and you can ride out the wildest storms.
Fanciful dreams did not form a solid ship, but surely the connection forged between her and Ash today did.
Chapter Thirty-one
Genova saw Damaris Myddleton heading back toward Ash and went down the stairs. It was time to roll out the guns and do battle for the prize. Though she’d like to have sailed a direct course, discretion forced her to tack, chatting, flirting, and being kissed a few more times.
If all the men were paying her guineas, Charlie’s account would be growing nicely.
She was almost at the fireplace when she noticed Lady Walgrave—Lady Elf—frowning and rubbing her massive belly.
“Are you all right, my lady?”
Lady Elf looked at her, then smiled. “Oh, yes, just feeling restless. I have always done this, you see.”
Genova did. “It’s strange to pass things over to others. You have your own home now, however.”
“Yes, and I intend to do something as splendid in time. Walgrave Towers was a rather chilly house, so it’s being drastically renovated. That’s why we’re here at such a time. I didn’t want to give birth in town.”
Was this chatter, or more information being fed to her? Lady Elf, after all, was a true Malloren.
Genova could see Ash, and Damaris Myddleton was in the same group. She needed to ask a question of Lord Rothgar’s sister, however. “Do you think your brother wants peace with Lord Ashart?”
Lady Elf looked at her, surprised. “Yes, of course. Is it possible?”
Negotiation through intermediaries? Genova hesitated, for Ash certainly hadn’t appointed her to theposition. “Yes, I think it is. But there must be many grievances to be dealt with on both sides.”
Lady Elf looked around, clearly making sure no one was listening. “There are, yes,” she said quietly, “and the most serious are to do with family. I gather the Dowager Lady Ashart truly believes that the Mallorens were responsible for the death of her husband as well as her daughter. He died, you see, because of Lady Augusta’s tragedy. At least, he died not long afterward, and she chooses to see cause and effect.”
“It could be so. My mother’s death caused a great change in my father.”
“But it still requires that my father caused his first wife to murder her baby. No one who knew him believes it.”
“Can’t Lady Ashart be convinced of this?”
“Apparently not. As for our wounds, she has tried many times to harm us.” Lady Elf glanced around again. “She paid a man to try to seduce me.”
“My heaven! What happened to him?”
“Rothgar called him out.”
That’s what Genova feared. “And killed him?”
“No. But he has little use of his right arm.”
In a way it seemed worse than death. It sounded so coldly calculated, but Lady Elf seemed to think it completely normal.
“My brother’s vigilance has kept us safe,” Lady Elf said, “despite the dowager’s machinations. Things have been better recently. Rothgar’s growing power deters, and I gather the Trayce fortune is severely depleted.”
