Page 10 of Rescuing Lord Inglewood

Esther’s head pounded dreadfully, and she could not take more than tea and a slice of bread for luncheon. Her stomach felt as though it might misbehave again. She rose from the couch and went to the window, looking down into the park with its beautiful spring grasses and shaded flower beds.

A knock on the front door reverberated through the house and Diana rose from her chair, a disapproving wrinkle upon her brow. “I thought we had seen the last of our visitors. Especially since it is not our at home day.” She huffed and went out of the room without another word.

Realizing this might be her last chance to escape, Esther crept after Diana. She reached the hall at the same moment, it seemed, as Diana reached the entryway. She heard her stepsister-in-law greeting the newest visitor.

“Lord Inglewood, good afternoon. Dear me, I had almost forgotten you promised to come.”

Silas’s deep voice filled the air, carrying through the house to Esther’s ears. “Mrs. Aubrey. It is good to see you again. Is Miss Fox recovering?”

“Yes. Somewhat. She has been resting all day.”

If only that were true.

“Excellent. I am glad to hear it. I have come to speak to your husband. He is Miss Fox’s guardian during her brother’s absence, is he not?”

“He is. Yes. He is in his study, if you will but come this way. My lord, is the situation as serious as I feared yesterday?” Diana’s voice faded as she led Silas down the hall to Hugh’s study.

Esther halted where she stood, straining her ears for the answer. While Silas said he would come, she hadn’t really thought he would. She was nothing to him. A note might have sufficed. What did his visit mean? Merely that he kept his word, or that the gossip running its course outside the house forced him to come? The number of callers turned away during the day indicated some interest in their little drama, of course. But Diana always exaggerated society’s importance in their life. Didn’t she?

“It may be, Mrs. Aubrey.” Silas’s words barely reached Esther this time.

Would she be called to the study? Wouldn’t they would want her to know what was being said, what their course of action to route the gossip would be? Esther may not have reached her majority, but at twenty years old, she knew her own mind.

For several long moments she waited, listening for footsteps, for a servant to be called, for any indication that her stepbrother had sent for her. No one came and the house remained quiet, except for the occasional loud thump overhead, from the nursery.

It occurred to Esther, as she stood in the upstairs hall, that every person in the study below viewed her as a child. Her stepbrother hardly bothered with her, Diana always bemoaned looking after her, and Silas had, in their childhood, always made a point of telling her she was too young for everything she wished to do. Too young to take part in the games Silas, her brother, and their friends made up. Too young to follow them to the seaside. Too young to leave the nursery and go off on an adventure.

Esther tightened her jaw. If Silas thought he could discuss her future with others and leave her completely out of it, he was wrong.

She whirled away from the main staircase and hurried to the hidden, narrow stairs used by the servants. Those stairs let out into a closet adjacent to her stepbrother’s study, that would give her perfect opportunity to press her ear to the door and hear everything said inside. Though her head and stomach protested the speed at which she moved, she could not allow herself to miss a moment more of the conversation below.

Only once before had she eavesdropped in such a horribly juvenile manner, when her brother and stepbrother discussed what was to be done with her while Isaac went to battle. Knowing the men in her life made decisions for her future, without regard to her desires, made her already delicate stomach sour still more.

Her slippers hardly made a sound on the steps as she descended to the ground floor, and the door to the study closet opened without even the tiniest of squeaks. She stepped through household cleaning implements and around a small shelf, then pressed her ear to the crack in the door. Hugh was speaking.

“…disturbing they would put an innocent woman’s name in that book. Are you certain, my lord?”

Silas’s voice, low and unimpressed by the distress in Hugh’s words, answered calmly. “Very certain. I asked a colleague to check before I left.”

Diana sighed loudly, dramatically, and Esther pictured the woman’s look of despair without difficulty. She had seen it many times. “But to wager on whether you would wed her or not—that is despicable, surely?”

“It is not the worst thing in that book, madam.” How did Silas manage to sound aloof about such a serious thing? Even Esther knew what they meant. Everyone knew about the famed bets that went on in clubs like White’s. To know her name now graced a page, that men of power saw it and chortled or speculated about her, sent a shiver through Esther.

“I do not care about the wager,” Hugh said, his voice cutting through the momentary silence. “I care about my sister. Esther has prospects, but they will dry up if this becomes an issue. Her dowry isn’t enough to make fortune hunters seek after her, but I had hoped it would be able to secure a comfortable match. Now it might not be enough to make gentlemen overlook yesterday’s theatrics.”

Silas’s answer was slow, but she sensed a change in the tone, however slight it might be. “Theatrics? I am certain Miss Fox saved my life, for which I will forever be grateful. I cannot be sorry for it, though I do wish to lessen the impact of the situation on her reputation.” Protectiveness? Was that what she heard? Or was it merely irritation with the situation?

The newspaper and caricaturists all called him a man of ice and stone. Before he had put that mask in place, Silas had been a playful and somewhat vexing boy, always with mischief twinkling in his eyes.

“My lord, what do you propose we do?” Diana asked, her voice quieter, almost subdued. Esther might not have known it to be Diana speaking at all.

“A withdrawal from Town might be wise,” Silas said, his words firm and without feeling once more. “We can give the gossip some time to dissipate. If the subject of the tittle-tattle is gone, people will lose interest. Something else will come up, people will focus their attention elsewhere. It has happened before.”

“Do you plan to leave London as well?” Hugh asked. “I cannot leave. My business dealings require I be here for several weeks, at least.”

Diana’s words rushed out, tailing her husband’s pronouncement. “Perhaps we can find a way to send Esther on a visit. She has friends in the country, as does her brother, who would be delighted to have her to stay. Certainly, the whole family removing from this house would cause more comment than a young lady leaving to visit friends.”

Esther leaned her shoulder against the door, closing her eyes in the darkness. Of course Diana would not wish to leave. Not in the spring, when she had friends to visit and parties to attend. The woman showed Esther every kindness, but they were not related. Not really. Giving up the comfort of Town and all her friends would be a hardship Diana wouldn’t like to face.