He found himself wanting to ask if she had been listening, but dismissed the thought. If she had it would be easy to deny and impossible for Winston to test. He stole glances at her as they walked. Her brow was furrowed, lips tight and thin. He found himself wanting to make her smile, to see her beautiful face unsullied by worry.
Or to discover the source of her worry and solve it.
“Are you going to employ this fellow?” Adeline asked as they ascended a staircase.
“No. I have no vacancies and dislike a man who is prepared to slander his former employer. I require discretion from my staff.”
“What if he spoke only the truth?” Adeline asked.
Winston had been prepared to see Adeline’s anxiety ease upon being told that Grebe was not to be employed. Instead, it seemed to deepen.
“It still should not be spoken aloud. A servant sees and hears much that should not be shared beyond the walls of their establishment.”
“The prospect of being without a home can make one desperate.”
They reached the floor of the guest rooms. Winston stopped.
“I suppose it might, at that. Do you counsel me to employ this man?”
“It is not my place. I merely speak as one who has experienced being left adrift on the waves of our Society. I had nothing when Her Grace the Dowager Duchess took me in. I must go and change before this tea dries.”
“Of course,” Winston inclined his head.
“Thank you for guiding me. I…I may not have so easily found my way back without your assistance.”
Winston had turned but now stopped. The simple solution was to use the bellpulls, which were present in all rooms, to summon a servant.
Or I could wait until she has changed and guide her back. Why would I waste my time like that? To try and gather more evidence against her?
Or to spend more time in her company. With her beauty. That was what made Winston’s heart skip and his mouth dry, though he didn’t want to admit it to himself.
“I will wait then,” he found himself saying even as he wondered at his own credulity.
But his decision was rewarded with the sovereign of her smile. Bright and golden.
“Thank you, Your Grace. That is most kind. It is probably not needed after the time I have lived here now, but the offer is appreciated.”
Winston followed her to the door of her room. He went into the room next door to sit while he waited. But he could not sit. A need to move took hold of him, an itch that he could not satisfy. He stood by the window for a moment, hearing Adeline moving about in her own room.
He went to the cold fireplace, running a finger along the stone mantle and finding no dust. A wardrobe door clicked open next door. He heard the sound of fabric rustling. He prowled about the room, hands clasped behind his back. He was not listening but heard every movement and visualized it besides.
He leaned against a door and only then realized that it connected the room he was in to the one Adeline was in. He jumped up as if stung. Somehow it felt like an intrusion. The door creaked, as though she had also been leaning against it. There was a small scream and a crash, followed by a thump. Winston tore the door open, then the one on the other side.
Chapter Eight
Adeline was sitting on the floor in her undergarments, sucking on her finger. A broken vase, which had been on a pedestal by the door, lay in pieces next to her. One of those pieces bore beads of bright blood on its jagged edge. She screamed again as Winston burst into the room and spun on his heel.
“What on earth has happened?” he demanded.
“I was hurrying because you were waiting on me. I was too hasty trying to get this dratted dress off that I bumped first the door, then the vase.”
“I note that you have cut yourself.”
“Yes, and I can’t get dressed until the bleeding stops because it will get all over my…my blasted clothes. Oh, hang it all!”
She sounded exasperated, and Winston found himself chuckling. Her swearing had the sound of one who did not do it often or really know how to say the words with conviction. He took out his handkerchief and turned. Adeline had pulled a bedsheet from the bed to cover herself.
“Here. Press it against the wound and keep your hand elevated.”
