She nodded. When he closed the door, she took great panting breaths. She must pull herself together. Lady Jane Westing was merely another human being. There was no need for this abject terror. On the other hand, Adelia’s reception was far from certain. Lady Jane might also consider Owen to be her close friend.
Glancing around the room, taking in its warm disposition with sunflower-yellow walls above white wainscoting and a pretty floral brocade sofa on a cream and pale green rug, Adelia wondered if she should sit or if that would be too bold. Deciding to pace instead and practice what she would say, she had barely done one turn of the room and silently recited, “Lady Westing, I am in dire need of assistance, though I know you may not wish to—”
The drawing room door opened and in swept the marchioness. Pale brown hair in a suitably elegant chignon, Lady Jane wore a violet silk day gown. Everything fit perfectly. The only thing surprising about her was she held a baby in her arms.
“Lady Adelia, I would greet you with both hands, but you see they are full. I hope you don’t mind, but my son was napping on my lap, and I thought it best to bring him with me than to keep you waiting.”
Adelia’s mouth opened in surprise. Quickly, she recovered. “It is beyond kind of you to…to see me, especially if you are short-staffed.” She assumed the woman either had not secured a nanny or had one who had been taken ill.
Lady Jane smiled bemusedly. “I am not short-staffed. Oh, I see what you mean.” She offered a genuine laugh. “We do have a nanny, but I tend to spend an inordinate amount of time simply holding my baby. He still seems like a miracle to me. His name is Spencer, and he recently got over a little tummy trouble.”
Naturally, an unwell child would have made the marchioness keep her son even closer.
“I am glad he is on the mend,” Adelia offered, realizing she was speaking too quietly when Lady Jane leaned forward slightly.
“Thank you. Will you sit?” her hostess asked. “I already requested tea. It should be here shortly.” And Lady Jane lowered herself gently into a winged armchair, hardly jostling the sleeping infant.
“The last time we spoke,” she continued as Adelia took a seat in another chair, separated from Lady Jane’s by a small round table, “was at Lord Burton’s party, following the hippopotamus exhibit at the Regent’s Park zoo, I believe.”
Adelia nodded, removing her gloves and placing them in her lap in anticipation of the tea tray. She had seen Lady Jane several times since, but the marchioness was correct in that they had not spoken since that party.
“What brings you to see me?”
Adelia opened her mouth, hoping she could find the right words when, after a gentle tap, the door opened and in came a maid carrying a tray.
In a very short time, the tea service was set on the table between them, within easy reach. Lady Jane continued a steady stream of polite conversation about the type of tea leaf in the pot and how their clever cook had put lemon peel in the biscuit cream, and soon, they were alone again.
“I need help,” Adelia blurted. That sounded as if she were drowning at sea. In fact, she did feel as if she were drowning in troubles.
“Tell me at once,” Lady Jane insisted.
“Don’t you wish to know why…why I came to you?”
Lady Jane shook her head. “As soon as my butler gave me your card, I knew.”
“You did?” Adelia was confounded.
“Yes, I know through my husband that Lord Burnley has been escorting you about Town, and everyone knows they are the best of friends. My guess is you have questions about his character.”
Adelia felt sick. If only her visit were on such a benign matter, sussing out the true nature of the viscount. She already had made that determination for herself. Owen was a fine, principled man, if slightly indiscriminate about the females he escorted. He seemed gentle when not enraged, which was too often, but even then, he reserved his anger for particular individuals and had never given her cause to fear him.
“Lord Burnley is involved, yes, but I have come to ask your advice about finding a lawyer.”
Lady Jane sat back, surprised. She glanced down, perhaps to ascertain if her son continued to sleep. “Go on.”
“This is about Lord Burnley’s sister,” Adelia began, wondering briefly if Lady Jane knew the horrible truth of her death. By her pitying expression, Adelia could tell she did.
“His lordship believes my brother to have…have… That is, Lord Burnley is convinced my brother is the perpetrator…in short…the murderer.”
The marchioness didn’t gasp. Instead, she narrowed her eyes. “Does he?”
Adelia nodded, wondering about Lady Jane’s thoughts and half expecting to be tossed out at once.
“Try the tea,” Lady Jane said, “before it gets cold, and start from the beginning.”
Adelia sipped the tea and sighed. Her least favorite thing, a long discussion, apparently awaited her, but she would try.
In a few minutes, having mentioned all the extraordinarily damning evidence, Adelia concluded with, “I know how it appears. Truly, I do, but I also know my brother. With every fiber of my being, I know he is innocent of this charge.”
