Following the conversation with Lady Foxworth, he’d returned to his bedchamber where he’d watched the rest of the ball from his window. He’d seen Lady Eleanor dance with Spencer’s friend, Chadwick, irritated by the overwhelming sense of possessiveness that had come over him. Once the ball had ended and the guests had gone to bed, he’d stayed up, just as he’d done every night for years, trying to rid his mind of her. It had been a futile effort that not even his violin had been able to help him with.
Reaching for his shirt, he pulled the garment over his head and tied the closure shut. He put his stockings and breeches on next, not that he was planning to go anywhere, but Spencer would be stopping by with food soon and Richard felt that he owed his brother the respect of at least getting dressed before he arrived.
With this in mind, he glanced toward the door and immediately frowned. What the devil? It looked as though a letter had been pushed beneath it, which was slightly odd since Spencer usually brought him his correspondence. Striding toward it, Richard bowed down and picked the letter up, briefly studying the wax seal of a rose before flipping the letter over. His heart made a loud thud inside his chest at the sight of the neat script gracing the front.Signor Antonio.
Crossing to one of the armchairs, he lowered himself onto the seat. Holding the letter between both hands, he hesitated opening it, unsure of whether or not he wanted to know what it said. It had to be from her. But how had it arrived in his room? The only explanation he could think of was that Lady Duncaster must have gotten involved, but how Lady Eleanor had managed to convince her to defy Lady Foxworth’s wishes, he could not fathom.
He slid his finger beneath the wax, breaking it. Considering the way in which they’d parted last night, he supposed the letter would insist upon some sort of explanation. As much as Lady Eleanor deserved one, he knew it wasn’t something that he was prepared to grant. Unfolding the letter, he started to read, his heart kicking up a notch at the recognition of her voice delivered to him so clearly in the form of writing.
Signor,
I dearly hope this letter will somehow manage to make its way into your hands. If it does, then I would like to tell you how well I enjoyed your company last night and how saddened I was by your departure. Please understand that my aunt feels a great responsibility toward me, for you see, my parents have entrusted me entirely to her care. She is my sponsor—a position that she takes most seriously. And while I was honest with you when we spoke, regarding my position on marriage, I—
A soft knock at the door drew Richard’s attention away from the letter. Muttering a curse, he folded it back up, got to his feet and placed it securely in the pocket of his breeches as he went to the door and unlocked it. Moving away, he went to stand by the window, drawing back the curtain so he could look out at the garden while his brother entered the room and closed the door behind him.
“It was quite a lively event last night,” he said, staring toward the part of the garden where he’d first spoken with Lady Eleanor.
“I wish you could have participated,” Spencer said.
Richard heard him walk over to a small table and setting something down—a tray with food, no doubt. Turning slowly away from the window, Richard offered his brother the side of his face that remained unscarred. “Such things no longer interest me.”
Sighing with resignation, Spencer indicated the carafe on the side table. “Mind if I pour myself a glass?”
“Be my guest,” Richard told him. Stepping toward the armchair he’d recently vacated, he asked Spencer to pour him one as well. His thoughts rested on the letter in his pocket and what the rest of it might say, but he could hardly throw Spencer out of his room in his eagerness to discover this.
“I do not understand you,” Spencer said as he placed a glass of brandy in front of Richard and sat down across from him. “You are still an eligible gentleman.”
Studying his brother, Richard raised his glass to his lips and took a slow sip. “You know how untrue that is. One look at me and all the young ladies will have a fit of the vapors.”
“Sarah did not,” Spencer reminded him. “If you recall, she told you that the scarring is not as bad as all that.” Richard grunted disagreement. “And besides, the ball last night was a masquerade. You could easily have been there without anyone being the wiser.”
For a fleeting second, Richard considered telling Spencer that he had been. Sharing his encounter with Lady Eleanor was especially tempting, but he resisted. If Spencer knew, he would probably become more adamant about Richard going out in public. There was also the added risk that he would mention Richard’s attendance at the ball to their parents and sisters, which would only make Richard’s situation more difficult. “To what avail?” he asked instead.
“I do not know,” Spencer murmured with a shake of his head. “You have always loved music.”
“True.”
“You would also have had an opportunity to meet someone.”
“I presume that you are referring to a lady?”
“Well, you are hardly going to form an attachment by remaining in your bedchamber all the time, and with a mask—”
“We have discussed this many times before,” Richard said, annoyed by Spencer’s insistence.
Spencer stared at him for a long moment. Picking up his glass, he drained it in one long gulp. “You cannot stay dead forever.”
Richard clenched his jaw. “It is best this way.”
“Best for whom?” Rising, Spencer went to the sideboard and set down his glass on the tray there. “You will not let Mama or our sisters see you, yet you expect them to carry on this farce on your behalf.”
“I have never asked them to lie for me. People made their own assumptions when I failed to put in a public appearance after the war was over. It was commonly known that I was missing in action. All I asked was that nobody celebrate my return when I finally managed to make my way home.”
“It is dishonest.”
“To some degree perhaps, but I believe that Mama and our sisters preferred to go along with it rather than having to answer an endless amount of intrusive questions.”
“They respect your decision because they love you, Richard. That is not the same as agreeing with it, and it certainly does not make it right.”
