The doctor’s opinion had not improved his mood. He had advised Anthony to remain off his feet for a minimum of three days. Until the swelling went down and his ankle no longer pained him.
Well, at least it wasn’t broken.
He huffed a breath and glared at the clock. Where was Athena?
And why wasn’t Mathis coming to check on him? His butler knew he couldn’t march across to the bell-pull if he needed something. Tea would be nice, for example. And perhaps a couple of sandwiches too. Thankfully the man had the presence of mind to send Miss Starling away when she’d stopped by a short while ago. If there was one thing his bed-ridden state was good for, it was avoiding her.
A knock at the door sounded and then Mathis entered. Finally.
He’d brought a tray with him. “Your Grace, I thought you might like a cup of hot tea and some sandwiches.”
Anthony grinned. The man was a bloody oracle. “You read my mind as usual.”
The hint of a smile tugged at his butler’s mouth. “I do try.”
He placed the tray on Anthony’s lap and poured the tea before setting the pot on the nightstand. When Anthony said he needed nothing else, Mathis withdrew and left him to enjoy his refreshment. It was precisely what he needed just then, and Cook was clearly aiming to please, for she’d used his favorite sandwich filling – roast beef and tomatoes.
The meal offered a little distraction and helped fill the next ten minutes. It also made him incredibly sleepy. He yawned but forced himself to remain awake so he’d know as soon as Athena returned. A book would help.
He picked up the next Jane Austen novel he’d chosen to read. Mathis had brought it up earlier and had placed it beside him on the bed next to his lap desk, in case he felt like writing some more. Anthony glanced at the leather-bound cover. Emma. Not a very creative title, but then again neither was Rob Roy.
He opened the book and proceeded to read, immersing himself in Miss Austen’s wit with an almost immediate chuckle. Emma Woodhouse promised to be a troublemaker, and he looked forward to seeing what sort of mischief she might get up to.
Sinking farther into his pillows, he read until the words started to blend together. He yawned again. Maybe he’d just close his eyes for a bit. He set the book down and allowed his eyes to slide shut. Resting for a few minutes would surely make him feel better.
A pleasant memory came to mind – of Ada serving him tea and biscuits in the cramped little room at the back of the book shop. He smiled while thinking of her and of all the wonderful possibilities meeting her last month had led to. As soon as he recovered, he’d take her for an ice at Gunther’s. Yes, that was how he’d proceed. By beginning with a dessert.
He hadn’t come. Ada’s mind was in turmoil. He’d not even sent a note.
She gazed out her bedchamber window at the overcast sky foreshadowing rain and drummed her fingers against the sill. Something must have happened. He wouldn’t just choose to ignore her like this after what they had shared. Would he?
No. She believed in him. It was imperative for her own peace of mind that she not allow Miss Starling’s visit yesterday afternoon to rattle her. All would be well. He’d promised and she was confident he was a man of his word.
But why hadn’t he called on her then?
Could he be ill? If that were the case he would surely have sent word so she wouldn’t worry. Which she was beginning to do, of course. Perhaps he’d been hurt, but she was still positive he’d have made sure that she was informed. Unless he’d been rendered unconscious. Or worse.
She must not think like that. It would only drive her mad.
But she also wouldn’t rest easy until she knew he was all right.
So she got out of bed, dressed, and prepared to go out.
“I’m going to inquire about Mr. Gibbs,” she informed Uncle James when she found him at the breakfast table.
He frowned. “I’m sure he’s fine, Ada. Give him a chance to stop by on his own. The last thing men want is to be harassed if they’re dealing with something important. And besides, it wouldn’t be appropriate, your calling on him by yourself.”
“You’re right, but I’m afraid I have no choice.” She sat, snatched a bread roll, and proceeded to eat it without bothering to add any butter or jam. “He said he’d stop by yesterday but he didn’t, which makes me very concerned.”
“Does this have something to do with that woman you mentioned?”
Ada had given her uncle a brief outline of Miss Starling’s visit without adding too many details, besides the fact that she believed herself to be betrothed to Anthony. Uncle James had insisted Ada speak with Anthony directly before drawing any conclusions. Which was pretty much what she herself had decided upon.
Only Anthony hadn’t arrived as planned, and she was getting increasingly anxious. What she needed was answers. “I’m sure all is well, but I cannot rest easy until I know why he failed to stop by. To ease your concern regarding propriety, I’ll take a few books – make it look like I’m there to deliver an order. I’ll be back soon enough. I promise.”
She stood, dropped a kiss on her uncle’s cheek, and left after putting together a makeshift parcel.
The walk to Berkley Square took less than half an hour. She arrived at the address he’d given her when he’d ordered the Jane Austen novels, and climbed the front steps, parcel in hand. Three loud knocks summoned a smartly dressed man with a grave expression. The butler, she surmised, although he was younger than what she’d expected.
