Lachlan turned at the sound of shuffling feet, and the muted thump of the tip of a cane on each stair.
“Oh, for goodness’ sakes. Why must Iris have so many stairs?”
Lachlan strode into the hallway. “May I help you, Lady Chase?”
Thump. “No indeed, Mr. Ramsey. You’ll only make me nervous. Just tell me where my granddaughter is, if you please.”
“Just here, in the drawing room. We were discussing—”
Thump. “Yes, yes. I know very well what you were discussing. I don’t know what you did to coax my granddaughter into this foolishness, Mr. Ramsey, but if she should die of a consumption because she didn’t go to Brighton, you may comfort yourself with the knowledge it was all done in service toyou.”
“This was my idea, Grandmother, not Mr. Ramsey’s.” Miss Somerset came up beside him, and offered her arm to Lady Chase, who’d at last made it to the bottom of the stairs. “You spoke with Iris?”
“I did, indeed, and she’s as foolish as you are.”
“Then you know she’s refused to go to Buckinghamshire unless you agree to sponsor Miss Ramsey, and remain in London so the two of us can debut together?”
“I know it all, but you needn’t pretend Iris approves of this business. She isn’t any happier about this idea than I am. She wants you to go to Brighton.”
“Yet she did agree to it, nonetheless, and I’m sure you don’t wish her to stay in London, or go to Huntington Lodge without Finn.”
“Humph.” Lady Chase glared at Lachlan.
Hyacinth led her grandmother into the drawing room and settled her on a sofa close to the fire. “Does that mean you agree?”
“But what of Brighton, Hyacinth?” Lady Chase rapped on the floor with her cane. “What if you should become overwrought, and contract some dreadful disease?”
It took all Lachlan’s powers of restraint not to snort. Damn it, he was starting to despise the wordoverwrought.
Miss Somerset hesitated for a fraction of a second—just long enough for his breath to stop with dread—but then she shook her head. “If I start to feel myself weakening, we can always go to Brighton then.”
Lady Chase regard her for a long moment, then let out a deep sigh. “Well, Hyacinth, I know you’re fond of Miss Ramsey, and you’ve always been a tender-hearted thing. But are you certain you wish to do this?” She cast a dubious look at Lachlan Ramsay. “I daresay it won’t be at all pleasant.”
Another slight hesitation, then, “I’m certain.”
“You don’t have any obligations in this, my dear. The Ramseys are Lord Huntington’s family, not ours.” Lady Chase held up a hand to stop her granddaughter from interrupting. “I know it sounds selfish to say it, but there it is.”
“Come now, Grandmother.” Miss Somerset sat down on the settee next to Lady Chase. “You know I don’t make those sorts of distinctions. Finn’s family is our family.”
Lachlan stared at her. Her blue eyes had gone soft, and even in that ungodly sack of a dress…
Aingeal.
Lady Chase sighed, then she patted her granddaughter’s cheek, and there was no mistaking the pride and affection in her face. “Well, well. You’ve a kind heart, Hyacinth. Always have.”
Lachlan had begun to back out of the room to give them privacy, but before he could reach the door, Isla and Ciaran burst in.
“Lord Huntington is carrying Lady Huntington down the stairs!” Isla announced breathlessly. “I mean, Finn is carrying Iris…oh, bother! You all know who I mean!” With that, she darted back into the hallway, presumably to watch this momentous event.
“Lady Huntington’s mad as a hornet about it!” Ciaran seemed to have put aside his anger of this morning, and was now wearing a gleeful grin. “She fussed and protested until Lord Huntington lost patience, wrapped her up in a blanket and scooped her into his arms like she was a sack of potatoes. By God, I like our brother, Lachlan. I thought he was going to be a stiff, proper, deadly dull English peer, but he’s a great deal more fun than I expected.”
Ciaran strode into the hallway after Isla, and the rest of the party followed him, just in time to see Finn turn on the landing and start down the final flight of stairs. He was clutching Iris to his chest, his mouth a grim, determined line. Iris had her arms wrapped around his neck, and she was looking up into her husband’s face, her expression an odd combination of irritation and amusement.
“This is absurd, my lord. I’m perfectly capable of walking…oh, Mr. Ramsey!” Iris called, when she spotted Lachlan at the bottom of the stairs. “Will you attend me to the carriage? I’d like a word.”
Lachlan blinked in surprise, but he followed them out to the carriage, and stood by while Finn deposited his wife gently on the seat, and arranged half a dozen cushions around her. “I’m going to fetch another blanket.”
“There are five here already, but if you insist, then by all means fetch another one.” Once Finn had disappeared into the house, Iris turned her attention to Lachlan, and she didn’t mince words. “My parents died when Hyacinth was fifteen years old. Both of them at once, in a dreadful carriage accident. Did you know that, Mr. Ramsey?”
