Chapter 5
I keep telling myself that I don’t care.I won’t care.I can’t care.And I don’t!
But I cannot help but wonder—as a completely impersonal observation, of course—about the change that has come overHarLord Aylesbury.Whatever else I might have to say about him, Aylesbury was unfailingly polite...in society, at least.More than that, he was always unswervingly good-natured and humorous.I rarely saw him that there wasn’t laughter in his eyes and on his lips.
Tonight, there was none of that in his demeanor.Nothing in his eyes but misery.What has changed him so?
No!I won’t care.Not again.
Instead, I shall continue to play Francis’ game.I will keep company with Lord Temple—though I shall do nothing to encourage him beyond friendship as I have no desire to hurt him.I know only too well what that feels like.
But who is she?
~From the diary of Lady Fiona MacKintosh—May 1895
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The Glenrothes Townhouse
117 Eaton Square
Belgravia, London, England
The next morning
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“Then you did keep theletter back from Lord Ramsay?”
Hobbes looked studiously over Fiona’s head, and she sighed.“It hurts my feelings that you would sneak about behind my back.I thought you rather liked me.”
The butler met her eyes briefly before they drifted back over her shoulder as he held out her hat.“I did refrain from forwarding your withdrawal from the Ladies’ Open as well, my lady.”
She arched a brow as she turned to a nearby wall mirror and settled the hat on her head, pinning it securely.“I should thank you then for muddling about in my affairs, then?”
“Inevermuddle, my lady.”A muscle twitched in his cheek that might have been a grimace or a smile as he held out her gloves.One never knew with old Hobbes.
Was he old, she wondered idly as she drew on her gloves?It was hard to tell.The planes of his cheeks were papery but taut, but Hobbes was far too stiff and starchy to allow a wrinkle to show anywhere, even on his person.
Still, regardless of his demeanor, Fiona was inexplicitly fond of the man and wished for nothing more than his good regard in return.“I know you will do as you wish, Hobbes, but if Lord Ramsay does call, I hope you will at least do me the courtesy of deciding whether I’m in or not before you dismiss him.”
“I would never be so foolish, my lady,” he said, holding out her parasol.
Foolish enough to let her decide for herself or dismiss Ramsay?
“Where are you off to, Fiona?”
Fiona took the parasol and turned with a smile as one of her many sisters-in-law, Ilona, tripped gaily down the main stairs and joined her in the front hall.“I was about to take a stroll over to the park for a bit.”
