Will grinned. “That’s him. Or it was when he appeared on my doorstep. I’m making progress with that last point.” His smile quickly dropped. “Less progress on the state of his mind.”
CHAPTER3
Leaning back against the seat of Chadbourn’s town carriage, Flo let hope fill her. The meeting of the Ladies’ Society had been nothing like she expected. The duchess, strong minded and intelligent as they came, laid out their plans like a general. They would approach the problem strategically, using social events to lobby for votes in Parliament, writing letters and pamphlets to sway opinion, creating projects to raise funds, and expanding their work to include the unemployed and wounded veterans themselves, traveling in groups to volunteer at hospitals and less savory places. That last one made her smile. Will would not be able to argue, if her efforts had the duchess’s support.
Lady Georgiana Hayden, ten years older than Flo and unmarried, had been a surprise. Nothing like her sister, the vile Countess of Ardmore, she led the pamphleteer efforts of the group. Lady Georgiana’s reserve made it difficult for Flora to warm up to her at first, but the subject of overbearing brothers helped, and Flora quickly realized warmth and no small amount of shyness lay under the stern exterior. An idea took hold, one Flo couldn’t shake.
Lady Georgiana would make a perfectly acceptable companion. Unfortunately, the lady only planned to be in London until the Season began, but perhaps Lady Georgiana would consider moving to Chadbourn House until Aunt Imogene arrived.
The more Flora considered it, the more the idea pleased her. So much, in fact, that she couldn’t wait to tell her brother. The coachman attempted to dissuade her when she ordered the carriage to the Albany, where the earl intended to stay until he arranged housing for his temporary guests, but she had her way.
The gentleman at the desk below stairs was less easily persuaded. “Brother you say? I’ve heard it before. Young woman, this bachelors’ establishment is no place for you. I suggest you tell your mother—”
Flo opened her mouth to object one more time, but a voice from the stairs interrupted her.
“I’ll handle this, Martin.” The man came down the stairs, approached her, and muttered under his breath, “Have you no sense of appropriate behavior?”
She whirled around at the arrogant speaker, ready to put a flea in his ear, but stared instead.
Thin to the point of gaunt, the man’s clothes hung on his lean frame. In clean, perfectly respectable clothing, with neatly trimmed hair, and sporting a black sling—one she knew covered a missing hand—she almost didn’t recognize Ethan Alcott. Lord Ethan Alcott, she reminded herself. His face had been scrubbed, but his complexion retained an ashen look. His eyes, however, held her transfixed, those rich brown eyes in which his obvious anger once again failed to mask a deep well of sorrow.
“L-lord Ethan?”
“At your service Lady Flora. May I escort you home?” He flicked a glance at Martin who watched them avidly. Belatedly, it occurred to Flo that the man at the desk was the sort to sell tidbits toThe Teatime Tattlerand its ilk.
“I was hoping to speak with my brother,” she said.
“He would undoubtedly be happy to wait on you at home, once he returns.” The brown eyes held hers unrelentingly.
Flo gave in. “Kindly convey my wish to speak with him when you see him, my lord,” she said dismissively, trying to ignore the arm he winged for her to take.
“I will do that as soon as I see you home.” He didn’t budge.
She took his arm with poor grace—casting a smile dripping honey at the gaping doorman—turned to Ethan, and hissed, “Unnecessary.”
“Oh, I think it is. I won’t return Chadbourn’s kindness by neglecting to protect his sister.” He all but tossed her into the carriage. Flora’s maid, Martha, stared wide-eyed when he climbed in behind her. He smiled at the sight. “At least you show a particle of sense.”
Flo refused to speak to him; at least, she tried. “Your escort is unnecessary.”
“Itisnecessary, if I’m to make certain you get home safely, even if it is to an establishment in which a young lady ought not to be living on her own. You’ve caused your brother enough trouble, and me as well.”
“You? What have I ever done to you?”
He leaned back and squeezed his eyes shut. She didn’t think he would answer. She flounced to one side and stared out the window, imagining painful ways to remove this interfering troublemaker from her carriage.
“You called me Lord Ethan.”
Flo turned back incredulous. “I called you by your name? Oh, the horror of it.”
“Martin heard you. He’ll puzzle out my father’s name soon enough.”
“Why would you care? I should think he would be pleased to know that the son of the Marquess of Welbrook resided at the Albany.”
“If Martin knows, the Marquess of Welbrook will know soon enough.”
Their eyes held for a long moment while she thought it through. “You’re hiding from your family,” she concluded.
“Did you think they arranged my accommodations in the alley behind Finnegan’s Pub?”
