Chapter 4
“Sir, you have a visitor,” Winfield, Nathaniel’s butler, announced from the door of the library.
Nathaniel waved his hand. “I am not at home.”
“It is a lady, sir.” Winfield’s face flushed at his insolence. “A right fine one, not the usual sort. She’s the—”
“I don’t give a damn who she is…” Nathaniel’s eyes narrowed as his voice faded away. He wasn’t friendly with many ladies. Of course, he was acquainted with half thetonor more, but the ones he knew well enough for them to seek him out—those were far between. “What is her name, Winfield?”
“Lady Celia Kendal, my lord. The Duke of Selkirk’s sister,” the butler said. “And she is alone,” he added.
Nathaniel experienced a moment of panic, his heart pounding. He couldn’t imagine what would bring the duke’s sister to his home, but he harbored no doubt that if her visit were discovered, the duke would murder him.
Still, he could not turn her away. Not when she had risked her reputation to call on him.
Nathaniel drug in a breath, then said, “Show her in.” He stared past Winfield at the hallway beyond the library. “Have Mrs. Porter come as chaperone.” Nathaniel supposed his housekeeper would be as good a chaperone as any.
Leastwise on such short notice.
Clearly, Winfield agreed, for the insolent butler bowed, then backed from the room.
Nathaniel rose and went to the sideboard to pour a whisky. Whatever the lady wanted, he was confident he would need fortification to hear it. He brought the tumbler to his lips and took a long drink, then moved back to the chair he’d vacated.
Before he could bring the tumbler back to his lips, Lady Celia Kendal strode into his library, with Winfield trailing behind her. At least he assumed it was her. The lady was invisible beneath her oversized cloak. Nathaniel aimed his gaze to where her face should be and narrowed his eyes. “Good God! You look like the grim reaper in that monstrosity.”
The lady ignored him and continued to stroll toward him.
Nathaniel looked to Winfield and said, “Take that hideous cloak and hold it until we have finished.”
“No,” Lady Celia said and wrapped her fingers around the clasp. “My being here is most improper. I prefer to keep my identity concealed.”
“My butler is a master of discretion. A good thing as he already knows your name.” Nathaniel nodded to the housekeeper, who had just ambled into the library. “And Mrs. Porter is here as chaperone.”
“What I have to say will take but a moment and is best said in private, my lord.” She turned her head, seeming to look around the room, then nodded to a far corner.
Nathaniel followed her across the parquet floor and onto the Aubusson rug before she came to a stop near the corner shelves. “Forgive me for intruding, but this is of the utmost importance.”
He attempted to pay her mind, but all he could see was the reaper. Finding it impossible to focus on her words, he chuckled. “I cannot take you seriously while you are drowning in that poor excuse for a cloak.”
She huffed, then pushed the hood back to reveal her face. “Very well. Now listen.”
Nathaniel grinned. “You have my attention.”
She peered for a heartbeat, then her expression turned serious. “You must call on Lady Lady Cordelia.”
Her words were like a punch to the gut. Nathaniel swallowed, his throat tightening. Of all the things she could have said, he never would have expected Cordelia’s name to leave her mouth. “Why?” He spoke through clenched teeth.
“I would rather not say.”
He took hold of Lady Celia’s arm and leaned closer. “You had better say.”
She pressed her lips together and stared defiantly. “I would rather not betray her trust and am sure if you go to her, she will tell you. Allow her the opportunity.”
“Damn it, woman. Tell me what this is about, or I swear I will march you right back to your brother.”
“You should hear it from her.”
Nathaniel’s anger reached a new height. “She is not here. You are.”
