“I can—”
“No.I will do it.”
Victoria nodded again.Looking down at their entwined hands, she swallowed, the faintest of cracks breaking her expression.
Heart in her throat, Eleanor gave her friend’s hand a final squeeze and then rose.It took no time to inform Lady Burfield of their departure, and less to help Victoria from the room.
The Kiloughlan carriage had already arrived when they walked through the Burfield’s door, Victoria’s footman already holding the carriage door open.Tall and muscular, he was an unusual sort for a footman, though he was never anything less than solicitous of Victoria.He was built too big for a footman, his shoulders and chest too wide even though his uniform was tailored to disguise the breadth of him.He was also unpretty, but then Eleanor herself did not choose her footmen for their handsomeness.However, for all his height and build, he was able to blend into the background when required, and when it was not… Well, he was an intimidating presence, that was for certain.
With a face like granite, he helped Victoria into the carriage, his forearm strong under her clutching grip.She swayed and he steadied her hand immediately, his hand gentle at the base of her back.She glanced at him, and for a moment, her mask cracked.
The granite softened.“All will be well, my lady.”
Victoria drew in a breath, nodded, and settled into the carriage.
Eleanor followed, giving the footman a small smile, to which he returned an unsmiling nod.Perched on the cushion, she took Victoria’s hand between her own as the carriage started down the cobblestoned street.“What news?”
Victoria startled, her blinking gaze finding Eleanor as if surprised to see her.She shook herself, her lips turned downward.“I do not know for sure.The news states only he has taken a turn for the worse and requires my immediate presence.”Her eyes flew to Eleanor’s.“The Downeys’; ball tomorrow.We were to attend.I was to help.Eleanor, I am sorry, I—”
Eleanor already shook her head.“Do not hold concern for that at all.You must to Scotland.Of course you must.”
“But you quest for Lord Malvern—”
“You are not to think on that.I am grateful for your help thus far but you are needed elsewhere.All is well with me, Victoria.You must focus on yourself, Lord Dunseith and your people.”
Her friend nodded wordlessly and her attention turned inward again.
Eleanor leant back into the plush squab, her gaze remaining on Victoria.Her own attempts to take the Earl of Malvern as a lover paled in comparison to what her friend had to face.Eleanor could well handle that on her own, and if she required assistance, Benedict had offered his.
The thought made her blanch.There was something wrong about Benedict helping her, especially after what had passed between them.Taking the earl as her lover might be a quest she took on her own though, with her complicated feelings toward Benedict, she was beginning to question if she ever would.
Chapter Eleven
Hercarriagehadbarelydeparted for the Downeys’ ball before it shuddered to a stop.Throwing an arm to brace herself, Eleanor sucked in a breath as the door was wrenched open and a large figure blocked the gap.Gripping the door frame, his arms stretched above his head, Benedict grinned at her.“Take me, too, El?”
Eleanor scowled, ignoring the way his biceps strained the sleeves of his jacket.“I dislike it intensely when you do that.”
“Do not fib, El.You love it when I surprise you.”Settling into the seat opposite, he said, “Where are we off to, then?”
“Iam off to the Downeys’ soiree.I have no notion where you are going.”
“If you are to the ball, then I am too.How fortuitous our destinations align.”
“Does Lady C and Amanda not also make their way to the ball?”
He tapped his chine.“I believe they might do.At least, they were dressed as if they were to attend not ten minutes ago.”
“And yet, that has not stopped you from availing yourself of my carriage when I know for a fact the earl has a perfectly serviceable one.”
“Your carriage is more comfortable.”Putting action to his words, he stretched out his legs, his breeches tightening over the long, thick muscle of his thighs.
Her mouth dried.“Victoria has left for Scotland,” she blurted.
His brows shot up.She breathed a sigh of relief as he shifted, the fabric of his breeches no longer so tight.“What?Why?”
“Lord Dunseith is unwell.”
“He has been unwell since birth,” he said flippantly.
