Page 52 of A Momentary Marriage

“Yes, no doubt that’s it,” Graeme agreed in a hearty voice.

“For pity’s sake, Graeme, sit down and stop fidgeting about,” Lady Eugenia said. “You don’t need to pretend all’s well in front of me. I’m fully aware that someone is trying to kill James.”

Ignoring Graeme’s pained expression, she turned back to James. “I suppose it’s Claude who wants you dead.”

“Grandmother . . .” Graeme groaned.

“Don’t be so missish, Montclair,” his grandmother retorted.

“Yes, Claude is my first choice,” James agreed.

“I always thought he was a sly boy,” Lady Eugenia went on. “But handling it will be a delicate situation. You won’t want any scandal.”

“Naturally. I’ve thought of simply slipping a knife between his ribs one night.”

“James . . .” Graeme rolled his eyes. “This is scarcely a time for jests.”

“Who says I’m jesting?”

“That wouldn’t do,” the dowager countess put in. “It would still be a dreadful scandal. And you wouldn’t want to be sent to the gallows.”

“That is a consideration.”

Graeme looked pained, but the dowager countess appeared pleased with their exchange. She stood up, reaching over to lay her hand on James’s shoulder. “I’m glad you didn’t leave us.” She gave him a little pat, completing James’s astonishment, and stepped back. “I am sure you two would prefer to talk in private.” She let out a martyred sigh. “So I shall visit with Tessa and Mirabelle.”

James watched her leave the room, then turned to his cousin. “I think I may be delirious again.”

“I told you Grandmother is fond of you.”

“I would have thought anything more than not fiercely disapproving of me would have been a step up for Lady Eugenia.”

“Are you all right?” Graeme moved closer. “I mean, really. Not for Mother’s or the dowager countess’s ears. Just me.”

“I am beginning to believe I shall live, yes. In exactly what state of health, I’m not sure.” James swung his legs off the bed and stood up. “I’ve spent the day walking back and forth across the room. So far I haven’t managed to stay on my feet much longer than five minutes. But it’s better than being flat on my back in bed.”

“Perhaps you should come to the hall to stay for a while. We’ve plenty of room.”

James gave him a sardonic look. “I’m not that feeble.”

“You’re not well,” Graeme countered. “If someone here is trying to kill you, how are you to stop him?”

“I’m well protected.” James waved toward the door. “Most of my family has a healthy regard for Dem’s teeth.” He paused, then added with a grin, “Besides, you should have seen Laura bar the door to Patricia and Archie.”

Graeme’s expression lightened. “I imagine that would be a sight.”

“All she needed was a flaming sword.”

At that moment the door opened, and the subject of their conversation stepped in. Graeme promptly popped to his feet. “Laura.”

“Montclair.” She gave him a formal nod.

James glanced from Graeme to his wife. They looked equally uncomfortable. What did Laura feel when she looked at Graeme? Regret? Bitterness? Yearning? James sat back down, suddenly exhausted.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have interrupted.” Laura turned toward the door. “Excuse me.”

“No, no, pray don’t go on my account. I was about to take my leave,” Graeme assured her. He glanced back at James and away.

“Is it raining outside?” James asked.