“So I was told, and we sent him away. It died down when the Season ended. One didn’t hear a word of it last year.”
“I gathered that. I assume he was invited back this week for that reason.”
The earl shrugged and John went on. “This week he is at it again. Cecil told B— erm, Miss Westcott that, when he returns to London in the Spring, he plans to spread the hateful nickname far and wide and make certain society learns I am the culprit who made it up. It won’t do me any harm, but it will your niece. Cecil thinks it will hurt her more if the catch of the Season—his words not mine—thinks she’s a menace.”
The earl closed his eyes and sighed deeply. “He didn’t learn anything.”
“No, he did not. Perhaps I should explain what I said to Peter. I went in search of Cecil and found your billiard room stinking of smoke, brandy and vomit and afloat in bottles and unmentionable stains. Harry Smithers destroyed the surface of the table just as I walked in. They found it hilarious. The bunchof them are worthless juvenile trouble makers. I suggest you exile him again and forbid his friends to follow.”
The earl nodded sadly. “I hoped allowing him home as his mother begged would show him improved. Not so. There won’t be much left of our good name for David to inherit if he continues unchecked.”
“I’m sorry to bear bad news,” John murmured.
“I’m glad you did. It is as I feared. His mother refuses to hear it, but she’ll have to bear it.” The earl laughed bitterly. “And here I thought you wanted to speak of my niece.”
“Not quite yet.”
“With Cecil’s behavior I can hardly blame you, but Sophie is a fine girl.”
Sophie? Is he mad?“Lady Sophie is a lovely girl, but not my interest.”
The earl jerked upright. “Bel? You are interested in Bel?”
“Interested yes, but not decided. We’ve known each other but a week, and the lady has had a difficult time of it. She needs time to get to know me.”
The earl nodded. “A good girl is Bel, but she has an odd hitch or two to her step that hasn’t served her well.”
“Do I have your permission to court the lady? Perhaps in time I’ll come to her guardians for permission to offer for her.”
The earl smiled then, genuinely pleased. “Bel deserves happiness. I wouldn’t have thought she was the sort you’d want, though. Treat her gently. Don’t break her heart.”
“You may count on it,” John replied.
After that, the afternoon crawled. When Bel didn’t turn up for dinner, he had had enough.
As soon as the gentlemen finished their port, he paused in the hallway, torn between retiring and seeking her out.
“She’s in the kitchen, of course.”
He turned to see Lady Sophie with an impish grin. “Go talk to her.
Chapter 11
After a dayof seething emotion Bel retreated into the thing that focused her mind in times of trouble, her laboratory. The tiny room had once been the kitchen buttery; its outside wall made of stone. The door hung open, and the kitchen behind her was wrapped in darkness and silence, but the oil lamps that hung on either side of her gave off just enough light.
Bel held a vial of nitrate of silver with great care. It was her fifth effort to study the effects of it on various substances, and she was running out. Holding the vial steady, she lowered a thin sliver of copper into it. She had scavenged the copper from the frame Aunt Flora had given her to hold her mother’s miniature. The damaged corner of the frame was a pity, but needs must.She got her material where she could.
“Bel!”
A voice stopped her breath and made her heart race. She peered over her shoulder to see John walking toward her in the shadows, a wry smile on his face. She half turned still holding the vial and caught sight of a blur behind him.
Before she could think, John crashed into her, the door to the laboratory slammed shut, and her vial shattered on the floor. A key turned in the lock.
What on earth?
“You spiked my plans for Spring, so I spiked yours.” Cecil growled at them, kicking the thick door. The sound of his footsteps stomping away was followed by total silence.
John’s warm body pressed up against hers, robbing Bel of coherent thought. His arms came around her and slid up her back, cradling her closely. There being little room to move, she leaned her forehead into his shoulder, savoring the piney smell he always brought with him. “Did I hurt you?” John murmured.
