He stared at her, more touched by her unguarded statement than he could say. But he did need to saysomething.“You’re welcome,” he finally managed.
“You were seeing to your village responsibilities, then? A viscount’s day is never done, it seems.” She sipped more wine.
He chuckled. “Not exactly. I wanted to ask in town after that guide.”
“Mr. Blackwell, you mean? What about him?”
For some reason, he did not want to admit to her that he’d had words with the man. “I thought it prudent to ask if anyone knew him, and, if so, whether he had any known associates.” He’d alsomade it clear that the man was not welcome on Holy Island. If he showed his face, Sterling would hear about it.
“You still believe he worked in cahoots with those dirty criminals?”
“I think it likely.”
“I wish you luck in tracking them down, sir.”
In all likelihood, Annabelle would not be around to see it, however. She’d be enjoying the Season. Racking up suitors. He downed a large portion of his wine.
“Do you know, Babette got it in her head I would return to the castle with you and managed the alteration earlier today? She even found a pair of slippers for me to use.”
“Did she? She gets a lot of ideas.”
Milady has been hurt.
“What happened to her?” she asked, eyeing him cautiously. “I won’t say anything to her about it,” she hastened to assure him. “I just…I don’t like the idea of anyone frightening her or causing her harm.”
“Nor do I,” he replied, trying to decide what, if anything, he should tell her. “If you must know, she was accosted while engaged in her work as a lady’s maid.”
Annabelle frowned. “By a footman, you mean?”
“No. By a gentleman, a peer, who happened to be visiting.”
An odd look crossed her face. “I see. She invited it on herself, then? I’d never have thought so.” She shook her head with regret.
He stared at her, fully taken aback.What utter rubbish.
It took her a moment to notice, then whatever she saw in his face had her stepping back. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?”
She lifted her chin in defiance. “Like I’m a monster.”
He huffed out a laugh that held no trace of humor. “Because you said something monstrous.”
She blinked several times. “It’s a common enough tale, Lord Randall. Servant girls, trying to rise from their stations by luring gentlemen of the monied class. And poor Babette…Well, anyone can see she’s an innocent. She got more than she bargained for.”
“More than she bargained for,” he echoed. “Are you hearing yourself?”
She had the nerve to look offended at his tone.
“Did it ever occur to you that theseservant girlsof whom you so flippantly speak might have no say in the matter where certaingentlemenare concerned?”
“I…of course. But then…oh, never mind.” She set her barely sipped wine on the credenza and wrapped her arms around herself.
He finished his in one swallow and closed the distance she’d put between them, setting his empty glass beside hers. “No, I insist. Do go on.”
Her chin wobbled.
Good God.Now she would turn on the tears. He opened his mouth to rescind his demand, but she held up her hand to him, palm out.
