The other woman reclined placidly in the muck, closer to the shore with a rather smug look on her face.
Miss Cunnington had landed bottom first and therefore hadn’t experienced the pleasure of her face going underwater, unlike Cecily. In fact, with only a little water and mud splashed above her waist, the lady’s coiffure remained intact.
Cecily would remedy that situation without any further ado. Not stopping to think of what all thetonwould say about her tomorrow, she grasped a handful of muck and lobbed it as hard as she could so that it hit Miss Cunnington right between the eyes.
Things deteriorated significantly after that.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Stephen was somewhatreassured knowing that Lady Kensington would not be gallivanting around Mayfair without protection. He would have afforded it for her, himself, but perhaps extended time in that particular lady’s proximity wasn’t the best idea.
Unfamiliar with such conflicting emotions, he methodically organized various estate reports and contracts that required Flavion’s signature. The first pile was urgent, the second less so, and the third could be disposed of if necessary. Just as he thought he ought to go out and see if he could find his conspicuously absent cousin, sounds of the front door being thrown open, and then slammed, interrupted his musing.
“Patterson!” Flavion bellowed loudly for his valet. Stephen closed his eyes. “Patterson, prepare me a hot bath immediately! And bring me some laudanum!”
At these words, Stephen opened his eyes, pushed himself away from the desk, and went to intercept his cousin before he could disappear again.
Stephen was shocked at the sight that met him. “Flave! What happened?”
Flavion was a mere shadow of the man who’d disappeared the day before. His normally impeccable clothing was soiled with blood, dirt and, if one were to apply all of one’s senses, other unmentionable bodily fluids. In addition to that insult, Flave looked to have suffered two blackened eyes to go along with his recently broken nose. His matted hair was unrecognizable, and he held his right arm as though it pained him greatly.
“Who did this to you, Flave?” Images of irate papas as well as vindictive women arose in Stephen’s imagination as he comprehended that his cousin had been quite thoroughly roughed up.
Flave stumbled over to the large looking glass in the foyer and moaned tragically at the rather unimpressive reflection gazing back at him. “Oh, Stephen. What have I ever done to deserve treatment such as this? It was Cecily. I am certain of it. One of her father’s thugs, most likely. I think you were spot-on in your prediction that her father would come after me.”
Stephen wrapped an arm around Flavion’s waist and proceeded to assist him up the long flight of stairs.
Patterson stood at the top of the landing and fretted as he watched his master. “I’ve a bath being prepared for you, my lord.” And to Stephen, “Should I call a doctor?”
“I think that would be in Lord Kensington’s best interest, Patterson. Thank you.”
Flave groaned as Stephen urged him to keep moving.
“A few more steps, Flave,” he said, feeling some renewed affection for the man who was for all intents and purposes a brother to him. “You’ll be right as rain in no time at all. You know I’ll help you sort this out. Haven’t I always?”
“You’re the only one, Stephen,” Flave said in a somewhat-hoarse voice. “I knew I could always count on you.”
“Of course you can.” Stephen felt hollow as his conscience reminded him that he’d spent the previous night fondling his cousin’s wife.
By the time they reached Flavion’s room, the footmen were pouring the last few buckets of heated water into the tub. When Patterson returned, looking flustered, Stephen sent him to await the doctor and locate some laudanum. Stephen thought that perhaps Flavion might be somewhat more forthcoming if there weren’t any servants present for his interrogation.
Playing valet to his cousin, Stephen supported Flave as he climbed into the large copper tub. After handing over a cloth for washing, Stephen pulled up a stool and sighed heavily.
“Tell me what happened last night,” he said as Flave lay back and rested his head.
Opening his eyes only slightly, his cousin looked sideways at Stephen a bit warily. “Well, after I left the dining room last night, Daphne was waiting for me, in the corridor… but she was…”
“Yes?” Stephen urged. Good lord, the chit had shown up on Flave’s doorstep!
“She’s quite displeased at your mandate. She started crying and begging me to run away with her. What is a man to do when a chit gets all demanding and hysterical like that? I tell you, Stephen, if you ever had a mind to marry and settle down with one woman, I would advise you to reconsider. Women are trouble.”
The irony of Flavion’s words was nearly enough to cause Stephen to laugh, but with his cousin all bloodied and bruised, he did not have the heart.
“So, what did you tell Miss Cunnington?” he asked instead, although he already knew the answer.
“Well, I told her I’d think it over, promised I would come to her later and then I escorted her outside to her carriage. Good God, I started to believe she might actually go to her father!”
Stephen would discuss the details of the baron’s visit with Flavion when he was in better spirits. For now, he merely asked, “And then where did you go?”
