Leopold pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “You are correct. What do you propose we do?”
“With your permission, I would like to take up residence in the cottage in Seaford. Nobody really knows me there any longer, it is a quiet village, and it is unlikely anyone from Society would ever discover me there.”
“It is yours,” he said without pausing to give it consideration. “I have supported the property and paid servants when hardly anyone visits. At least one of us will now be living there.”
“I can purchase it from you,” she offered. She did not want to rely on her brother for support.
“No. You need your funds and if you do not use them for yourself, then they can be used for your child. Their life will not be easy, but I will do all that I can for my niece or nephew.”
“Thank you, Leopold.”
“Have you told Bolton?”
“Not yet, but I intend to before I leave London.”
He nodded. “A gentleman would want to know.”
She stood. “I will keep you apprised of my plans.”
She then turned and walked out of his home knowing that she’d not likely return for years, if ever.
Angelo had attended the Marcham Ball last evening as he had anticipated that Lady Briana would be present. Her parents were there, but she was not. From her friends he learned that she had remained in as she did not feel well.
He then had called on her today to be told that she was not at home. He’d feared that she did not wish to see him, but Angelo had heard others turned away and that Lady Briana was not home to anyone.
How was he to kiss her if he could not see her?
Frustrated, he stormed home, determined to call on her tomorrow, and every day until he finally kissed her.
His valet greeted Angelo as soon as he entered the set of rooms he had taken at the Albany.
“I have put the post on your desk, Lord Bolton,” he announced. “And a message also arrived for you, which is on top. I told the servant that I would give it to you as soon as you returned home.”
His heart nearly ceased. “Is it from my mother?” Had his father worsened.
“The lad was not from their household.”
Angelo blew out a sigh of relief and crossed to his desk, curious as to who would send him a message.
He tore the parchment open, read and then re-read.
Lord Bolton,
When it is convenient, could you please call on me at the Bolton Street address.
Lady Octavia Kepple
Why did Octavia need to see him?
Well, he wasn’t going to stand there wondering. Instead, he tossed the parchment on the desk and rushed from his set of rooms. Once on the street, he hailed a hackney to take him directly to Octavia. Upon arriving at the house on Bolton Street, he sprung from the hackney and hurried up the steps to the door. It was promptly opened by her butler.
“Lady Kepple is waiting for you in the drawing room.”
It was odd that he didn’t need to wait to be announced, which caused him further concern.
Angelo took the stairs nearly two at a time and marched to the drawing room, stopping when he reached the entrance.
Octavia had her back to him, and she paced. When she turned, he caught sight of her hands worrying together, then the stark paleness of her face.
