“Now, we must be off. I’ll step out and make sure there is no one about.”
He nodded before opening the door for her.
She took a few strides then halted. After surveying the area, she returned. “Everyone has sought shelter. You’d best go and quickly. The air is heavy with moisture.”
Stepping outside, he silently agreed with her prediction. “I shall see you on the morrow.” He gave a short bow then sprinted for the shrubbery not far away. Once somewhat hidden by any who would be about, he turned back to find her locking the door of her studio and walking quickly toward the stately home that was Thornwood. He remained where he stood until he was assured she’d be inside before any raindrops fell. Once more, he surveyed the area. Though he’d found his way across the Mabry land via gardens and shrubbery, with the impending rain, he started straight across open ground at a run, hoping against hope that he could reach his horse, Leonardo, before the skies spewed forth their heavy load.
He did not have long to congratulate himself upon finding Leonardo where he’d left him. No sooner had he mounted and settled into a gallop, then the rain began to fall. By the time he reached Sunnydale Manor, he was soaked to the skin and not a little chilled. Riding directly to the stables, he jumped from his horse once undercover and handed the groomsman the reins. After giving specific instructions for Leonardo’s care, he sprinted to the house, entering into the grand foyer.
The swish of skirts was his only warning before his hostess emerged from the drawing room. “Andrew Crauford, Earl of Sommerset, is that really you turning my marble foyer into a pond only a duck would appreciate?” Despite her scolding, Lady Enderly smiled widely. “It has been far too long since I’ve set eyes on you, dear.” She held her hands out then quickly clasped her hands before her. “Maybe you’d best change first, then join us in the drawing room.”
He nodded. He’d forgotten how warm the Harewood’s parents were and being back at Sunnydale had him feeling young again, before the responsibilities of his title had taken hold. “I will be but a few minutes. I’m anxious to see Lord Enderly as well.”
His hostess waved away his comment. “You just wish to drink Scotch with my stubborn husband, but we have more guests and with you here, I am in great anticipation of the coming Christmastide.”
Guests? Harewood hadn’t said anything about guests when he’d arrived earlier. Probably because Harewood didn’t keep abreast of his parents’ friends, too preoccupied in his own activities. “I’ll look forward to meeting them.” He started toward the stairs that would take him to his room.
“Lord Sommerset? Is that truly you?”
At the sound of the woman’s voice, he froze on the second step. Slowly, he turned his head and shivered. The black-haired, tiny-framed woman standing there in a pale gray dress was the one person with which he could not pretend politeness. “Lady Frederica.”
She giggled. “Oh, no, not anymore. I’m Lady Garmoyle now.”
At that news, he found it easier to speak. “Felicitations on your nuptials.”
Lady Enderly put her hands on Lady Garmoyle’s shoulders. “I’m afraid it is not so happy a story and condolences are best offered. Her dear husband died in an unfortunate carriage accident.”
Though Lady Enderly spoke of sad tidings, Lady Garmoyle continued to smile. The juxtaposition chilled him far worse than the rainstorm outside.
As if finally remembering herself, Lady Garmoyle’s face changed as quickly as the best actress on Drury Lane. “Yes, my darling Alfred was crushed when the coach rolled over him.”
The hint of a memory tugged at the edge of his mind. Something about her mother and a carriage accident. He was saved from commenting by Lady Enderly. “Now I don’t want you to think about it at all. Why don’t you go back in the drawing room and continue your game with Rose.”
Lady Garmoyle gave him a secret smile then turned around and disappeared into the drawing room.
Lady Enderly stepped to the bottom of the stairs. “The poor dear. When Rose discovered that Lady Garmoyle would be alone this winter, she generously extended an invitation to join us. I do believe we will have a very entertaining winter this year. Now, do go up and change. I want to know all the latest news about you and your family.”
As Lady Enderly turned and reentered the drawing room, he forced himself to ascend the stairs. How could Lady Frederica, rather Lady Garmoyle, be at Sunnydale? And why hadn’t Harewood told him? If this was somehow supposed to be humorous, Harewood had missed his mark completely.
By the time he entered his room, he was practically stomping across the floor, sending water everywhere. At the sight of his valet’s disapproving look, he growled. “Just help me out of these clothes and keep your thoughts to yourself for once.”
Mr. Lambert pursed his lips, but he did nothing to hide his disapproval.
Thankfully, Lambert could do his job with or without commentary, and in no time, Andrew found himself soaking in a hot tub and sipping on brandy, which he was assured would keep the chills from setting in. The hot water and liquor did much to dampen his irritation, but did nothing to lower his temper.
They may be expecting him below, but before he descended into questionable company, he would be visiting one supposed friend, be he sick or simply in hiding.
Chapter Eight
“Amelia, whoever areyou writing to?”
At her mother’s question, she set the quill in its holder and swiveled in the high-backed chair. “Joanna. If she is to be delayed by a trip into Town, then I wish her to procure new oil paints for me.” Going to the Western Exchange was a favorite shopping trip for her sister, so she was assured her request would be accepted with glee.
“Oil paints?” Her mother lowered her embroidery hoop to her lap. “But you prefer pastels or watercolor. Why would you wish to have oils? You know how difficult they are to work with. If I remember correctly your exact words were, they were damn impossible.”
She grimaced at her mother’s exceedingly good memory. “Yes, well, I’m older now and more accomplished. I feel the need to challenge myself and expand my skills.” She smirked. “After all, I did exhibit in the London Academy of Art this year.”
“Why do you say it with that tone?”
