“I am and I will see our dear Henry again, and George, and no doubt Charles and Harold, too. Won’t that be a jolly party? I do hope that Henry will be in a convivial mood. He was so peculiar before he passed.” She looked over at the fire and seemed to be mesmerized by the goings on in the grate.
“In what way, Aunt?” He reached out, touched her arm. “Aunt?”
She looked over at him and appeared to be surprised to see him. “Eh? Oh, Bellamy. Do I have to be ready to go to my reward before you visit me?” She looked over at the window. “Strangest weather we are having lately. It is almost as if the sun had decided to go on a holiday.”
He smiled. He should have known this conversation was doomed to run amok sooner or later. Oh, but he wanted to know more about Henry and his peculiar mood.
Aunt Petunia’s chin was already dipping towards her chest, he noticed, indicating that she would be snoring withinmoments. This was the first time she had been specific when talking about Henry. Usually, she just reminisced about them as children. The news about him knowing Lisbeth was intriguing. If his aunt’s ramblings were true, how did they know each other? Lisbeth had told him she had not known her husband’s business partners. He assumed this included his brother.
He looked around him, looked at his aunt, and wondered what he should do. He had the urge to bang down the countess’s door and demand answers. This would be impulsive and pure folly considering the source. No, he must bide his time. Study her. Get under her defenses and into her confidence if he were to find out about Henry and her part in the speculation.
He gave his aunt a kiss on her forehead and left her to rest. In the hall Mrs. Turner met him and followed him to the door.
“She seemed well today, considering her diagnosis,” he remarked.
“Yes and no. She says the strangest things to me some days, but I cannot make out whether they are memory or imagination.”
“She said some strange comments to me today as well, about Henry.”
“I would not take too much stock in what she says, my lord.”
“No, well, I suppose you are right. I’ll take my leave now, Mrs. Turner, and bid you a good day.” As he walked away, despite what Mrs. Turner had said, he could not stop his thoughts from turning to his brother and the woman who would be on his arm tonight.
*
It was cold,again, but this time Oliver didn’t have the benefit of a flask of brandy to keep him warm, nor did he have theheated affections of the woman sitting opposite him. Despite the warming bricks at their feet, the cold seemed to be seeping in from every crevice of the carriage. He was sure that Rollands had something to do with his missing flask, no doubt perpetrated byMadame le No-Funsitting opposite him. Perhaps her icy demeanor was making the carriage seem so chilly.
“Is it really necessary to go to Lady Fortesque’s tonight?” he asked. “Can we not write something more entertaining in the schedule than wasting an evening with that critical old battle-axe? There is a masquerade at Covent Garden which would be infinitely more diverting.”
Lisbeth looked at him, her eyes huge with shock. “No, you cannot just write something better in my schedule! Besides, that old battle-axe is my grandmother! Goodness, Bellamy, next you will be proposing that we attend a gaming hell or a… boxing match!”
A choke of laughter escaped him before he could control it. “I would, actually, but not with you. I suspect you would take too much pleasure in causing a scene.”
Pure astonishment came over her features. “Me! Cause a scene? I’ve never heard such a ridiculous thing in all my life!”
“Would you go to a boxing match… if it were on my list of wagers?”
She turned to look out the window again. “Certainly not!”
“Ah, but, Countess, you did say I could collect on any andallwagers, did you not?”
Lisbeth paled. She had agreed with those terms. They were, in fact, terms she had made up herself. What if he insisted that she go through with the wager? Looking back towards him, she saw his self-satisfied smile and realized he was bluffing. There was no odious boxing match on his list at all! Scoundrel!
“I believe I said within reason. I would, of course, honor any wager as per our agreement.”
Oliver laughed again, his chest rising and falling in the rhythm of comedic exercise. “Liar! You have yet to see the list but still you seem so confident.”
“Correction, Bellamy, I have seen the list. I simply could not read it. A legible list will present itself in short order, I expect, or I will march into White’s Club and gain a list of my own.”
At this point he knew her well enough to believe her mad enough to do just that. As humorous as it would be to see her bodily removed from White’s, it would also effectively put an end to his chance to make any money out of this debacle. Although everyone seemed to know what he was doing they did not realize that the countess also knew or that she condoned it. He had to keep it that way.
“I should have known you and the battle-axe were related,” he said on a heavy sigh. “Well, won’t this be fun?”
They entered the house on Grosvenor Square and were ushered through a mirrored hall to a large rectangular room furnished in blue, white, and silver. It was a stunning room. Full to the brim with small but expensive antiquities and bric-a-brac that Lisbeth explained had been her grandfather’s passion.
Part of Oliver wanted to stop and study each piece but, he reminded himself, he wasn’t on a trip to a museum. Plaster moldings framed arches in white with the interiors the same blue as the outer walls. More molding in the shape of silver grape vines connected each arch. A brilliant fresco occupied the entire scope of the ceiling depicting a confrontation of ancient Greek gods, all vying for their immortal positions. He spared a glance at Lisbeth, wondered if she would miss him if he were to lie down on the floor somewhere, and just study the ceiling for the night. He had seen many marvelous things while traveling with the army—some that he was trying diligently to forget—but he did like a good piece of art.
Fascinated by the architecture and decoration, Oliver hardly noticed the occupants of the room at all, until one of the guests bowed in front of him. He bowed in return, smiled, but did not stay to have a tête-á-tête. It was then that he saw couples dancing and others playing cards.
