"Amberwood," Foxmoore’s voice cut through his reverie, sharp and pointed. "You’re not listening. I can tell."
Kingston blinked, finally tearing his attention away from the window and focusing on the earl before him. He felt a flush of embarrassment heat his neck. "My apologies, Foxmoore," he said with a slight grimace, "I was distracted."
Foxmoore’s eyes twinkled with knowing amusement. "Clearly," he said dryly, folding his arms. "I trust your concern is solely for Lady Jaclyn’s health, but I must remind you that there is more at play than merely illness." He leaned forward slightly. "You’ve been absent in thought this whole time, my friend. Something weighs on you, and I would wager it is not just Lady Jaclyn’s fever."
Kingston could feel the heat of his own thoughts rise to his cheeks, a mixture of irritation and something he couldn’t quite name bubbling beneath his chest. He had always considered Foxmoore to be sharp and perceptive—traits he himself wished he could ignore at times. "You are quite right," Kingston admitted, standing and turning toward the fire, his hands clasped behind his back. "But for now, I need to focus on Jaclyn’s health. Nothing else matters."
Foxmoore’s silence was brief but knowing. He said nothing more on the matter, but Kingston could tell his old friend had not been fooled. The man always had an uncanny way of seeing right through him. “Very well,” Foxmoore said. “What shall we discuss then?”
Kingston shrugged. “Anything you wish.”
Foxmoore grinned. “We could play billiards so I can trounce you again.”
Kingston rolled his eyes. “I am not inebriated enough to attempt another game with you.” He sipped the brandy he still held in his hand. “Surely there is something else we can do to occupy ourselves.”
The earl’s lips twitched. “We can discuss how you are handling having Lady Easton’s brother visiting.”
That was another topic he did not wish to discuss. “Try again,” he warned.
Foxmoore held up his hands. “I will only say one thing,” he began. “And after that I will not bring it up again.”
Kingston closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He had a feeling he would not like what Foxmoore had to say, but it was best to let him get it out and be done with it. “What is it?” he asked through gritted teeth.
“You know he is friends with Lady Jaclyn’s brother.”
Of course he did… “If you are trying to make a point, I suggest you best get to it. I am fast losing patience.”
“If Lady Easton thought to send word to my wife about Lady Jaclyn’s condition, don’t you think Lord Finley would have done the same for his friend?”
Kingston cursed under his breath. How long would he have until Lord Oakley arrived to check on his sister? He had a very bad feeling about all of this. When the earl arrived chaos would ensue, and he should have listened to Jaclyn earlier. She had been concerned that him being in her bedchamber would be misconstrued and he had dismissed it as nothing. No one would know. But he had forgotten, momentarily, about Lord Finley. What if he had told Lord Oakley more than his sister was gravely ill? Would he have another duel to face in the future? He scrubbed his hand over his face. What was done, was done. He would face whatever consequences of his actions. He had known what he was doing and had not cared. “You are right,” he told Foxmoore. “He will have sent word.”
“Do you still wish to be here when he arrives?” Foxmoore asked.
“I am not going anywhere,” he said in a seething tone. “I am welcome here. It is Oakley who should tread carefully.”
“Quite true, my friend.” Foxmoore poured a glass of brandy and held it up to him. “You my friend, have much to face. But do not worry. Easton and I will be by your side for it all. We might be laughing a little.” He grinned. “Mostly on the inside I assure you, but we will not allow Oakley to goad you into another duel.”
Sometimes he wondered why he liked the earl so bloody much. Oh yeah, because there was no one more loyal or trustworthy than his two closest friends. Kendal was a good bloke, but he didn’t compare to the friendship he had with Easton and Foxmoore. Those two were the ones he always relied on whenever possible. “Good of you,” he said in a dry tone. “Especially as I do not intend to commit that same folly again.” He finished his brandy and set the empty glass down. “Now if you will excuse me, I have some plans to make.”
With that he exited the room and left Foxmoore alone with his brandy. He went in search of the marquess. They would have to ensure that when Oakley arrived, he did not cause mayhem at the abbey. There was not a doubt in his mind that he would come. Finley would have sent word and Oakley, the arrogant brute, did care about her. Kingston expected nothing less from him than a visit to ensure her wellbeing. It was something he himself would have done in the same instance. He just wished that he would not have to endure the visit because the last thing he wanted was to spend any time in that man’s company.
Eight
The soft rustling of the thick blankets covering her was the only sound that filled the space as Georgina and Charlotte entered Jaclyn’s bedchamber. The room, dimmed by the early afternoon light, carried the faint scent of lavender from the small vase on the bedside table. Jaclyn, still flushed from her fever, lay propped up on the pillows, her eyes heavy with exhaustion and confusion. She thought perhaps she might have dreamed her earlier encounter with the duke. When she had opened her eyes again, he was no longer there. Though perhaps she had seen him leave and just did not recall it? Everything was a blur in her mind.
As they approached her, Jaclyn blinked up at her two friends, her brow furrowed. "Did… did the duke come to see me?" she asked, her voice weak, her words slow and muddled. Surely, if the Duke of Amberwood had visited her they would have been aware of it. She struggled to gather her thoughts, as if they were floating just out of her reach. She waited for one of them to answer her question but neither appeared ready to give her the information she required. Still, she waited.
Georgina exchanged a glance with Charlotte, who gave a subtle nod, a quiet assurance to her that the matter could be addressed. Had it been that difficult of a question? Why did they have to agree to answer it? Georgina lowered herself onto the edge of Jaclyn’s bed, her voice gentle but firm. “Yes, Jaclyn,” she said, her tone laced with hesitation. “The duke did visit you. But… perhaps it wasn’t the wisest decision for him to have entered your room.” She sneaked another glance at Charlotte. “But he would not be dissuaded from the action.”
Charlotte, always the more straightforward of the two, crossed her arms and gave a short sigh, clearly frustrated. "I do not see what the fuss is about. He was merely concerned. No harm done." She shook her head. “No one need know. This is my home, and my servants will not discuss it.”
Georgina raised an eyebrow, her own concerns still weighing heavily on her. "I understand your point, Charlotte, but we do not know the duke's true intentions here. What if he has a different reason for being so persistent? What if it causes trouble?" Her voice held an edge, and the protective friend in her wanted to make sure Jaclyn was shielded from any unnecessary complications. “After you told me about that duel…”
Oh lord… Charlotte had explained all of that to Georgina? Perhaps it was for the best that Georgina had been informed of her scandal as well. It did not truly matter to her that both of her friends were privy to her misfortune. It made it easier somehow.
“You were not supposed to mention that,” Charlotte warned. She narrowed her gaze. “Though I must confess marriage or rather Lord Foxmoore suits you. That shyness of yours is slipping away. It is refreshing to witness your boldness becoming more apparent.”
“I am far from bold,” Georgina said. “At least not with anyone else. It’s because you are my friends I feel comfortable to speak my mind.” She nibbled on her bottom lip. “Outside of the two of you and my husband I am still that shy wilting wallflower.”
