But Lewis had left the room. Moreover, he had left any thought of his father far behind. He would send Parliament his excuses—an urgent family matter—and leave London behind too. Time to reclaim his life, his freedom, his wife.
The footman jerked to attention as Lewis approached.
“Have my valet come up to my rooms,” instructed Lewis. “And tell Cook I will be needing refreshment for the road. Thenstep ’round to the mews and have them ready the coach for a long journey. I will be heading north in an hour.”
“Yes, sir,” answered the footman, his long limbs quickly striding from the room so that he might perform the list of tasks.
Right. Time enough to scribe the letter to the Speaker of the House of Commons. And to update his sister on developments. He would not bother to do as much for his mother. She would only reiterate everything his father had said. Perhaps a short note could suffice. He really did not want another lecture. His mind was made up. His focus was on Jilly now and their future together.
Come to think of it, he should have all of Jilly’s things packed too. He would never be bringing her back to this house. Wallace, her lady’s maid, had gone with her to Ermenbrough. But one of the other maids could pack the few things she had left behind just as easily. He would arrange for it shortly. He just needed a moment…
Lewis would have loved to have stepped outside to catch his breath, but London air did not offer such a refreshing option. Beside him, the piano Jilly had never learned to play to his mother’s satisfaction stood open and ready to make any sound it was bid. Lewis reached across with two fingers and began to play a simple tune. His rich baritone joined in.
“At ball or play, she flirt away, and ever giddy be;
But always said, I ne’er will wed, no one shall govern me.”
Ah, Wild Thing, thought Lewis.I am coming to claim you once again.
Then he withdrew his fingers from the keys and shoved them into his pockets, humming the rest of the song as he made his way upstairs, shedding his worries as he went.
