“Thank you. It was successful.” He smiled at her approvingly. “No need to ask how you are, Miss Kershaw. You look in the pink of condition.”
So she was horribly flushed, she thought, annoyed. “I am a little flustered,” she admitted. “We are at sixes and sevens here.” As William had left them, she led Lord Dorchester into the drawing room. “Do please be seated. Would you care for a libation?”
“No, thank you.” He sat on a chintz-covered armchair and leaned forward, his hands on his muscular thighs, drawing her eye there and making her aware of their pleasing shape. “I’m sorry to hear that. What has occurred?” he said.
They were alone. Where was her aunt? Seated opposite him, she wondered if Aunt Mary would approve if she told him, or think Lucy dreadfully remiss. But Lord Dorchester would be discreet. He had already shown he was well able to keep a secret.“My cousin, Lady Anabel Howe, has left her marriage and run away with a gentleman. My aunt is very upset.”
He frowned. “I’m sure she would be, poor lady. Can you tell me more?”
“Anabel has fled to Ireland with Mr. Aidan Connor, who is unknown to us. My aunt is heartbroken. She believes she will neither hear from her daughter again, nor know how she fares. Aunt Mary is concerned that Lord Howe might seek a divorce.”
He leaned forward, concern in his blue eyes. “Would you like me to look into the matter? I might discover their precise destination. Would that bring your aunt some comfort?”
She feared she was coming to depend on him. And that could only end badly. “I believe it would, especially if she learns Anabel is happy and well. But really, is that even possible? They have been gone for weeks.”
He stood. “Let me see what I can do.”
Lucy rose too. “You are so very good, Lord Dorchester.”
His smile was enigmatic. “Am I?”
She laughed. “You must know it. I am constantly indebted to you. How can I ever repay you?”
He held out a hand to her and smiled. “I wouldn’t feel too downhearted. Something might come up.”
What did that mean? Did he see her in his future in some way? Deciding to worry about that later, she placed her hand in his elegant, long-fingered one, twice the size of hers, the palm edged with a roughness, which she liked. It showed he didn’t live an idle, pampered life like so many gentlemen she’d met. For a moment, they stood while she fought to concentrate, disturbed by their closeness and his suggestion of a future relationship, whatever that may entail. Her heart thudded so fast in her chest, she feared she would collapse into his arms. Their eyes met, his so blue, they made her breathless. “I am most grateful, my lord, and I know my aunt will be.”
“It’s no trouble for me to make a few inquiries.” He released her hand, and with a slight bow, walked to the door.
Lucy thought otherwise. She was sure he was a busy man, but she didn’t like to argue with him. She could only be grateful.
He picked up his hat and gloves from the hall table, and she opened the front door. Because William had disappeared into the kitchen once again where delicious aromas wafted out. The cook must have been baking.
Once he had driven away, Lucy hurried up the stairs to give Aunt Mary the news. Just knowing Lord Dorchester might be able to help would give her aunt some hope.
A hand on the bedchamber door latch, Lucy suddenly wondered why she’d never asked him why he’d called. Whatever the reason, it must wait until she saw him again. It thrilled her to think that she would. There seemed no end to her foolishness.
*
It had beenthe wrong time to broach the subject of Mr. Rattray, Hugh quickly realized. Lucy had looked so worried about her aunt. It was all he could do not to draw her into his arms and comfort her. If he could provide some information which might ease her aunt’s anxiety, he would certainly do so. He intended to ask an Irish friend if he might have heard of this Mr. Connor. There were a few other avenues to pursue.
He suspected Sarah’s explanation of Cardew’s visit was not the full story. He’d wanted to ask Lucy about it but had refrained because not only had it been the wrong time, but she probably wouldn’t have told him much. His best bet was Luke, and he would find out more tonight. If necessary, he would ferret out Lord Cardew, if he had not yet left London, and teach him a lesson he wouldn’t forget in a hurry.
That evening at the club, Luke was quite forthcoming. “The man is a bully,” he said as they drank claret in the library. “He faced up to me, so I was forced to subdue him. Drew his cork.”
“Splendid.” Hugh grinned. “He’s been intolerably spoiled by his mother. Thinks he can have anything he wants. Well, he can’t have Sarah.”
Luke frowned. “I trust she isn’t too upset? Doesn’t hold it against me?”
“I don’t believe so. She says you and Miss Kershaw were very supportive.”
“Miss Kershaw was. In my opinion, a lady to have in your corner.”
“Quite.” Hugh wanted that, and much more. In a few days, he would know if Lucy felt the same. She wasn’t the flirtatious type who would toy with a man’s emotions. Probably she’d set him straight on a matter when she thought he was mistaken. But dash it all, he found even that attractive, as well as the many other fine qualities he’d discovered about her. The sooner she married him, the better he’d like it. He felt like a schoolboy lusting after the unattainable. As he had not heard from Isabel or her parents again, it appeared that after this Saturday, he would be free.
Chapter Fourteen
The housekeeper, Mrs.Boyce came into the breakfast room where Lucy was eating toast. “Your aunt wishes to see you. She’s in her bedchamber, miss.”
