Just after noon, a knock sounded at Jenna’s door, and she was informed that Stuart had come to call. Resigning herself to the inevitable, she straightened her skirts and went down to the drawing room.
To her surprise, Stuart’s father, Viscount Dudley, had accompanied him.
“My lord, I must apologize.” She executed a sweeping curtsy. “We hadn’t expected you.” With expertise born of years of practice, she yanked the bellrope and immediately requested a tray of tea and cakes, all the while maintaining impeccable composure.
She offered Stuart a curtsy only a little less grand than the one she’d performed for the viscount and smiled serenely as he kissed her hand.
“It is I who must apologize for coming by unannounced,” the viscount said offering a gracious smile. “I hadn’t taken the opportunity to call on your family since you arrived in London and thought to remedy that at once.”
“I am only sorry Mamma and Papa aren’t here to receive you.”
“Where is your locket, my dear?”
She looked up in surprise at the abrupt change in topic. “What locket, my lord?”
“Why the one Viscountess Dudley gave you on your sixteenth birthday. I was under the impression you always wore it.”
She placed a hand over the hollow of her throat. “Well, yes I do, most of the time. I must have forgotten it this morning.” She mentally said a prayer that it was still locked safely away in her jewelry chest and not lost.
“I am sure it would mean a lot to Stuart if you wore it from now on,” he said in a voice that sounded very much like he was commanding her.
“Yes, well, I’ll certainly have to wear it from now on.” She glanced over at Stuart who looked sullen and pouty. If she had to guess, she’d wager her quarterly allowance his father had a hand in his wardrobe today. Gone were the frilly slippers and colorful waistcoat and in their place were dull black boots and a somber brown coat.
She stifled a giggle at what must have been a horrifying experience for Stuart. Clearing her throat, she focused her attention back on the viscount who was looking at her rather oddly.
He was a paunchy man with graying, thinning hair and bulging cheeks. There were two chins to his credit and perhaps a third hidden behind his cravat. Only a few inches taller than her own petite stature, he obviously tried to make up for his height deficit with his booming voice.
There was something uneasy about his eyes or perhaps her guilt was forging its way to the surface, because the viscount seemed to stare right past her outer façade and delve deeply into her thoughts.
Where were her no account brothers? She was going to strangle Quinn for leaving her alone to entertain the viscount. And Sebastian. He picked a fine time to relinquish his temporary position as head of the house.
She breathed a sigh of relief when the maid came in with the tray of tea. As the maid set the tray down on the small table in front of the settee, Jenna whispered urgently in her ear, “Find my brothers and have them come at once.”
The maid nodded and exited the room, leaving Jenna to pour the tea for the gentlemen.
“I’d offer you something more substantial, my lord, but I am afraid I am ignorant of the stronger spirits.”
The viscount nodded approvingly. “As well you should, my dear. A lady has no business indulging in a man’s drink.”
Jenna turned away and rolled her eyes.Wherewas Quinn?
“My lord, it’s a pleasure to see you again,” Sebastian said as he strolled into the room. Quinn came close on his heels and Jenna pinned him with a glare. He shrugged apologetically.
The two men shook hands, and the viscount nodded at Quinn. “When is your father due back?” he asked Sebastian.
“Not until the end of the month,” Sebastian replied. “Would you care for a drink?”
“Don’t mind if I do,” the viscount said looking over at the cup of tea Jenna was approaching him with.
“I’d love some tea,” Stuart spoke up.
Jenna smiled and handed him the cup. Good old Stuart had always looked out for her when they were children.
“I’m sorry he came,” Stuart whispered to Jenna. “I don’t know why he felt it necessary.”
“No need to worry,” she whispered. She eyed her fiancé over the rim of her cup, puzzled by how different he could appear at times. As children, she’d spent many hours tagging along behind Stuart, Quinn and Sebastian. Stuart had never displayed any of the tendencies he did now. Indeed, he was no different than either of her brothers. Until the year she turned sixteen.
She turned and settled onto the settee, and the men followed suit, continuing in their conversation. Stuart sipped from his cup and looked off in the opposite direction of his father. Why had he changed so much?
