Shaking his head, Marcus rose. Taking up the pen Stephen had been using earlier, he dipped it into the inkwell and leaned over the desk to write something. “No, my lodgings are not far. I can change and be back in no time.” Then, handing the scrap of parchment to Stephen, he added, “This is my direction if you find the countess isn’t amiable to upsetting her table. Otherwise, I shall return within the hour.”
Stephen studied the address and then looked back up at his good friend.
Marcus had circles beneath his eyes, and he appeared paler than usual. Stephen suspected the breach within his family was more trying than either would let on. “I’m quite sure the countess will have no objections to another guest. I’m not even sure Flavion will be joining us. I suspect not, as he took a good dose of laudanum earlier.”
And with that, Stephen walked his friend to the front door. He appreciated the normalcy that Marcus brought with him. God knew he wouldn’t get any of that from Flavion.
And not from Cecily either. She created an entirely different upheaval to his equilibrium. His gut instinct told him she was innocent of any wrong doing, but she’d appeared unsettled when he’d mentioned Flave’s attack. She’d gone somewhat quiet, as though she did, in fact, know something. This bothered him. He’d been coming to esteem her somewhat and did not like to think she was playing him. No man enjoyed such a sensation.
And then there were all of the other sensations she evoked within him. Remembering that she’d been covered from head to toe in mud earlier that morning, Stephen couldn’t help suppressing a grin.
And he had kissed her in public! Had he done this merely to create some gossip amongst thebeau monde?Or had he been giving in to another desire completely? Was it merely his protective instincts that had caused him to lift her into his arms and carry her bodily to the carriage?
This would make perfect sense because Cecily not only needed protection from outside forces, but she also needed protection from herself! She was an interesting combination of naïveté and cynicism. On one hand, she brought stray dogs home, but on the other, she read treatises on how to get away with murder.
Exactly how far was she willing to go to be free of Flave? Did she have a backup plan in case cuckolding her husband was not effective? What was she hiding? Shaking off these worries, Stephen turned his attention to the evening ahead. The answers to his musings could not reveal themselves soon enough.
On that thought, he went in search of his valet.
It was probably a good thing Marcus had refused his offer for eveningwear. Stephen wasn’t sure Hamilton would have appreciated the last-minute request. He could be somewhat picky about those sorts of things. It was as though the clothing belonged to the valet rather than Stephen. With a grim chuckle, Stephen mounted the stairs two at a time. Hopefully this evening would be as uneventful as the last two hours had been.
Hopefully, but somehow he doubted it.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Cecily expected thisevening’sdinner courses would be considerably more appetizing than the previous night’s had been. She had consulted with cook earlier that morning regarding the menu, and they decided on all of six courses, which included fish, game, poultry, and beef. The table was set with elaborate fresh flower arrangements, and the very best silver. When Stephen informed her of the invitation he’d extended to the Earl of Blakely, there hadn’t been any problem in adding one more setting. The party was to be a small one, after all. Most likely, the Kensington Countess’ dinner parties of the past had consisted of upwards of twenty guests. Cecily would not dwell upon this fact.
Surprising them all, Flavion roused himself and dressed for dinner. His valet had done wonders by carefully disguising most of Flavion’s cuts and bruises, and he nearly looked as breathtakingly handsome as usual when he took his seat at the head of the table.
With equally spaced dinner settings, Cecily sat Lord Blakely to Flavion’s right and Rhoda to his left. She’d then placed Emily on Lord Blakely’s other side and Stephen beside Rhoda. Cecily was able to watch everyone from her position at the foot of the table. She only wished the damn thing weren’t so incredibly long.
If she were planning to remain married, she would have had the table removed and replaced with something a bit cozier.
But she was not going to remain married, so this was not her problem.
Except for tonight. Guests would need to speak loudly. About five feet separated each of them.
As the first course was served, Cecily attempted to initiate appropriate supper conversation by commenting on the weather, but Emily, dear, sweet, alarmingly honest Emily responded as though they were not in mixed company. “Good thing for you it has been so warm, Cecily. Otherwise, it is likely that both you and Miss Cunnington would be nursing a chill this evening.” And then, seemingly oblivious to the faux pas she had made, she dipped her spoon into the turtle soup and sipped at it prettily.
At the sound of Miss Cunnington’s name, Flave lifted his head from his soup and stared down the table at Cecily. “Why is that? When did you see Daphne?”
Biting her lip, Cecily glanced along the table toward Stephen. “Well…”
“Miss Cunnington and Lady Kensington had an unfortunate accident this morning, and both of them ended up taking a swim in the Serpentine,” Stephen finished for her.
Lord Blakely was to be of no assistance either. “That is not the story I heard,” he said, expressionless, although there appeared to be a glimmer of something mischievous in his eyes.
Both Stephen and Rhoda flashed him a frown.
“And what, may I ask,” Flavion said indolently, “is the story that you heard, Marcus?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Rhoda said, setting her spoon down and glaring at Lord Blakely. “Miss Cunnington fell into the river. When Cecily attempted to assist her out of the water,that womanpulled Cecily into the water as well… not very sporting of her, might I add.” And then she picked her spoon up and went back to concentrating on the contents of her soup.
Oh, dear! Cecily had so hoped to have a normal dinner party! This was not a very auspicious beginning.
Flavion would not allow the subject to rest. After glancing around the table at all the other guests, all very intent upon the bowls in front of them, he eventually pinned his stare on Cecily.
“What of Daphne?” he asked abruptly. “Please assure me that she has not come to any harm?”
