Page 86 of A Perfect Gentleman

For an instant, he considered ignoring the note. But even as he’d thought it, he knew he could not. The moment had been broken. It would look odd to stick the thing into a drawer without reading it—he remembered quite well what he had thought when Abby did that very thing so many weeks ago. Abby would be bound to ask questions. Besides, no matter how inopportune or annoying it was, Laura would not write to him without an important reason. She had never tried to contact him before.

Once he’d read it, he knew he had to go see her immediately. There must be something very wrong; Laura would not ask him to call on her for something trivial. And it was truly alarming that she had said it was urgent. Laura was one of the steadiest, most composed people he knew.

Torn between worry and frustration, Graeme trotted up the steps of her cousin’s house and knocked. It was something of a shock to see a different footman open the door, but at that moment the butler emerged from the hallway.

“Lord Montclair.”

“Hello, Boggerty. Good to see you.”

“And you, my lord. Miss Hinsdale said you would be arriving. She’s in the music room.”

“Of course.” Graeme smiled. The music room was where he had often found Laura, her blond head bent over a sheet of music, her graceful fingers flying over the keys.

Boggerty ushered him to the door and left quietly. Graeme stood for a moment, watching Laura. He had not talked to her the other night, too busy chasing after his fleeing wife. She looked much the same as ever—light blond hair pinned into a braided coronet, neat and practical, the strawberries-and-cream complexion, the plain gray dress, and the intense concentration on her face as she read the music. The years sat kindly on her face; at twenty-eight, she was still lovely.

His heart warmed to see her. He missed her friendship—her wit, her warmth, her steadiness. Perhaps it would be possible to be friends again—but no, it would be too upsetting to Abby. It was too bad, he thought. Under different circumstances, Abby and Laura would have liked each other.

He must have made some noise, for Laura glanced up and saw him. “Graeme! You came.” She popped to her feet and started toward him.

“Of course. Did you think I would not?” He bowed formally over her hand.

“I hoped you would, but . . .” She shrugged, her cheeks turning pink. “Well, it’s a trifle awkward, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Somehow the admission made things less uncomfortable, and Graeme smiled at her more naturally. “You’re looking well.”

“Thank you. So are you. Please, sit down.” She gestured toward a chair and sat down across from him. “I quite liked your wife. She’s a lovely woman. I’m very sorry for the other night.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“I didn’t know who she was at first, and when we introduced ourselves, I didn’t know what to do. I felt as if I were deceiving her, but what could I say? I hoped I could get away without any awkwardness or embarrassment.”

“But I came blundering in.” He paused, then said, “But surely this is not why you wrote me.”

“No. Oh, no, of course not. I hesitated about sending you that note; I wouldn’t have . . . only . . . Perhaps I am being foolish, but I was worried, and I—I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Do about what? What’s the matter? May I assist you in any way?”

“No, it’s not about me. It’s about your wife.”

“Abigail?” His eyebrows rose. “I don’t understand.”

“I thought what happened on the stairs was simply an accident, so I really didn’t think anything about it at first.”

“The stairs? What do you mean? What happened on the stairs?”

“Lady Montclair falling. At the party the other night.”

“She fell?” Graeme jumped to his feet. “When? What are you talking about?”

“She didn’t tell you?”

“No. She did not.” His mouth tightened, and he took his seat again. “Tell me what happened. Was she hurt?”

“No. She didn’t fall to the ground; she just stumbled and began to fall. I happened to be walking down the stairs beside her, and I grabbed her arm. She caught the railing.”

“That’s bad enough.” He scowled. “Why the devil didn’t she tell me?”

“Perhaps she didn’t think it was important.”