He had a lovely smile. “I am returning to an empty hotel room, Miss Parr, where I shall partake of a lonely dinner. I really don’t mind.”
Laura found herself wondering if there was a Lady Lanyon. “Then you must stay to dinner.” It was the least she could do. She would handle hermother.
“That’s kind of you, Miss Parr.” He laughed. “Did I sound like I needed rescuing?”
She laughed with him. “Only a little.” It was nonsense, of course. The broad-shouldered, strapping fellow in his fine wool coat and French kid leather gloves was anythingbut.
The cab stopped outside her parent’s home, Grisewood Hall, newly built in the Queen Anne style with a soaring roof, turrets and bay windows. Shiny carriages lined up along the avenue of dripping beech trees. A pair of gray horses reared nervously as a horseless carriage appeared, belching smoke. The rain had returned, heavier still. Grooms darted about with umbrellas as ladies wearing cloaks over their tea gowns rushed to their carriages with squeals ofdismay.
“My parents are hosting a cocktail party. I’d forgotten about it.”
“Then I’d best leave you here,” Lord Lanyonsaid.
“Do come in,” Laura said. “It will be almost over.”
“I’m not dressed.” He removed his hat and ran long fingers through his black hair, sending dropletsflying.
“As if that matters. You need to dry off or you’ll catch pneumonia.”
“How is your ankle? Shall I assist you inside?”
“It feels much better,” she said hastily, not wishing to be swept inside the house in hisarms.
Lord Lanyon paid the driver and followed her to where the butler stood at the open frontdoor.
“Good afternoon, Miss Laura.” Barker took their coats andhats.
“Lord Lanyon got caught in the rain, Barker. Could you send a maid for a towel?”
“Certainly.” Barker hurried to give theorder.
“Are your clothes damp?” Laura asked, resisting the urge to place her hand on the double-breasted tailcoat covering his broad chest. “My father’s coats are about the same size, although they would be shorter in the sleeves.”
He smiled. “Please don’t worry. My overcoat and hat bore the brunt of it.”
Lord Lanyon disappeared into the powder room with the towel. He emerged with his hair neatly combed.
She was suddenly aware of her own disarray. “Come and meet my parents.” Tidying her hair with her fingers, she led him down the corridor to the drawing room. Entering, she searched for her mother among the guests. She guided him across the expanse of soft carpet while people greeted her, Lord Lanyon nodding to the inquisitive guests. Ladies in their organdie, taffeta and silk gowns, their hats trimmed with plumes, ribbons and flowers, followed his progress with unbecoming eagerness, it seemed toLaura.
What would such a man make of her parents’ home? The drawing room was suddenly revealed in a new light. Everything was so new it squeaked. Mother had ruthlessly decorated the reception rooms in coffee and cream. A pair of chiffoniers displayed an abundance of porcelain and colored glass. Framed prints covered the wallpapered walls. At the windows, white muslin curtains stirred below their scalloped velvet valances, and the smoke from the gentlemen’s pipes and cigars in the adjacent smoking room fought with the women’s headyperfume.
Laura’s mother rose from the cream serpentine-backed upholstered sofa flanking the fireplace to greetthem.
“Mother, I’d like to introduce Lord Lanyon. His lordship and I got caught in the rain and shared a cab. I’ve invited him to dinner.”
Her mother’s frown of annoyance at the state of Laura’s clothes melted away at the mention of his name. She gave him her hand. “How do you do, my lord? You are most welcome.”
“I’m sure an extra guest will prove a great nuisance, Lady Parr.”
“Not at all. With my husband’s work, we always expect an extra guest or two,” her mother said briskly. “Sir Edmund will be delighted. Laura, take Lord Lanyon through to the conservatory.”
Her father held court among the ferns and orchids with the other smokers exiled from the drawing room. Laura paused at the door. “If you’ll excuse me, Lord Lanyon, I must do something with my hair.”
His gray eyes studied her auburn locks. “Don’t let me keep you.” He smiled. “I shouldn’t like you to come down with pneumonia either.”
She resisted tucking the damp hair which sat heavily against her nape into place. “I’ll just introduce you.”
After her father greeted Lord Lanyon, Laura left them. Her intention to hurry to her room was halted when a lady approached her. “Hello, Laura.”
