Page 14 of Almost a Countess

“Not callers. Soldiers.”Dora stared into Larkin’s widening eyes. “Searching for an escapedprisoner.”

Larkin jerked upright, the cup she’dbeen using to rinse Dora’s hair clattering to the floor, splashingwater everywhere. “Oh, I’m sorry, miss.” The maid scrambled to mopup the mess. “You don’t think his lordship…”

“I’m afraid he is, Larkin.He told me so himself.” Dora steeled herself forhysterics.

“Gracious, Miss Harper.”The maid was apparently made of sterner stuff for she rose, alittle wobbly, her face a trifle paler than before, and resumedrinsing Dora’s hair. “Whatever will you do?”

“Do?” Dora frowned at hermaid. “What do you mean, Larkin?”

“With his lordship.Tonight.” Larkin seemed to think Dora should do something with theman other than give him supper and a bed. “Are you going to lockhim in his chamber?” The girl grabbed a piece of toweling as Dorarose then wrapped it around her dripping body.

“You think I should?”Startled that she hadn’t thought of that precaution, Dora clutchedthe towel to her chest.

“That I do! To make surehe doesn’t murder us in our beds.” Larkin gave Dora a knowingglance. “Or do something else in your bed, miss.”

Dora’s cheeks heated, although thatcould’ve just been the steam from the water. “I hardly think thatwill happen, Larkin. Lord Aberfoyle is a gentleman.” At least shehoped he was. “And he’s barely able to move, much less wreak havocduring the night.”

“Well, he must havecommitted some horrible crime to have been arrested by thesoldiers.” Larkin rubbed Dora’s body vigorously with the towel,hard enough Dora feared she might take off the skin.

“He wore a kilt, is all,Larkin. That was his crime.”

The maid stopped her toweling andstared at Dora as though she’d run mad. “They arrested him forthat?”

“It’s a long story, butyes, apparently, there’s a law against it. Suffice it to say hislordship is no true criminal.”

“You believed that story,miss?” Larkin gave her a disbelieving look before applying thetowel to Dora’s hair.

Dora sighed, and the dregs of doubtbegan to creep into her mind. Perhaps she was being too naïve witha man she’d met only hours ago. If she was letting her attractionto him cloud her judgment, the whole household might suffer. Therewas something she could do to remedy that, although she couldn’thelp but feel badly for not trusting Lord Aberfoyle’s word. “Takemy keys and quietly lock his door. With any luck, he’ll sleepthrough the night and if you unlock it early enough, he’ll never bethe wiser.”

“Yes, miss. I’ll go rightnow.” Larkin scooped Dora’s household keys from the decorated glassbowl on a table next to the door and hurried out.

Dora continued to sit, methodicallysqueezing water from her hair with the towel. She’d been soaccepting of Lord Aberfoyle’s explanation, she’d let her guarddown. She couldn’t allow herself to do that again. She doubted theman was dangerous and certainly was unable to get into any mischiefwith his wounded ankle. Still, it made her uneasy to think she’daccepted his story almost without pause. Blinded by his dark auburnhair, cool blue eyes, and charming smile.

A dangerous combination, itseemed.

Well, she’d restore her vision and seehim with both eyes open from now on. Tomorrow morning, she’d assesshis condition as best she could. She had some slight skill intending to wounds and sickness, so she felt capable of treatinghim. After an evaluation, she’d know better if he could ride. If hewere able to sit a horse, she’d loan him one of her father’s,provide a packet of food, and send him off to London, if that waswhere he was determined to go. If not, she’d await the appearanceof the soldiers, learn their version of the story, and cover LordAberfoyle’s presence as best she could. Would Lieutenant Scarlettake her word there was no one save her and her servants inresidence? What would she do if he insisted on searching thehouse?

One way or another, her quest foranswers to these questions would keep her awake long into thenight.

****

Next morning, after a very few hoursof fitful sleep, Dora sat down bleary-eyed to breakfast. As shesipped her fragrant tea, trying to wake herself up, she hoped ifanyone did appear they wouldn’t notice the dark smudges under hereyes. She’d taken to her rouge pot this morning—something sherarely did—to give her the appearance of blooming health, if onedidn’t look too closely at her face. If they did, they wouldrealize she was tired to the bone.

After tea, toast, eggs, and bacon,Dora persuaded herself she was ready to face the day and anythingit would bring.

Larkin had informed her when she wokethat she’d had taken Lord Aberfoyle’s breakfast to him early andhe’d seemed none the wiser about being locked in last night. She’dgo up and see him shortly. Now, she needed to work out the detailsof the story she’d come up with in the earliest hours of themorning to explain his lordship’s presence in the house. A wildplan, to be sure, but then desperate times called for desperatemeasures, or so they said. At the moment, Dora was inclined toagree with “them.” If the plan actually worked, it would assure theearl’s safety here for several days—long enough for him to regainhis strength before continuing his journey.

The fact that she would also haveseveral more days of his company didn’t factor into the situationat all, of course.

James entered with a letter on asilver salver. “This just arrived by messenger, miss.”

She frowned. In all the time she’dbeen at Bromley, she’d never had a letter delivered by messenger.“Are they waiting for an answer?” She peered at the letter, but thehandwriting wasn’t familiar.

“No, miss.”

“Thank you, James.”Strange. The footman retreated to the kitchen, and Dora turned theletter over and over in her hands. Addressed in a feminine hand,the letter created a puzzle in Dora’s mind. It wasn’t from Judith,for her letters always came by post. And sad to say, she had noother female friends who corresponded with her since she’d left herhome in Wiltshire.

“The easiest way to findout who it’s from is simply to open it, nitwit,” shemuttered.