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“Thank you, my lady. You are very generous.”

“As are you, my dear.” She squeezed Caroline’s hands and then released them. “Now, off with you. Have Benedict call you a carriage. Rain or shine, I will not have you walking home from Farwell Hall.”

Benedict smothered a grin. He was quite sure Caroline would have demurred if he’d suggested calling for a carriage, but she’d be disinclined to ignore his mother’s command.

“Thank you, my lady.” Caroline bobbed a curtsy.

Benedict took it as an acceptance. “Come,” he said, offering Caroline his arm. “I am quite sure Stokes can have the carriage here in short order.”

He led Caroline down the passage. Purposely avoiding looking at the entrance to the cleaning cupboard, he opened the door to the servants’ stairs.

“May I accompany you home?” he asked.

“There’s no need.” Her weary smile hinted at her exhaustion. “It was very good of your mother to insist that I take the carriage. I daresay my legs will be glad of the rest, but they are perfectly capable of getting me in and out of the vehicle unassisted.”

It was not the answer he’d hoped for, but he suspected what little endurance she had left to her was waning fast. Whether it was walking or conversing, she could not manage much more.

“Would you rather be alone?”

“It might be for the best,” she said. “If I were to fall asleep on your shoulder, it would only add to today’s growing list of embarrassments.”

“And to my list of immense pleasures.”

Her cheeks turned a delightful shade of pink, but before he could say anything more, the door at the top of the stairs opened, and Stokes appeared.

“Ah, Lord Benning,” he said, stepping back to allow Benedict and Caroline into the entrance hall. “I was just coming to look for you. Your father has asked that you join him in his study.”

Benedict frowned. It was not often that he received a summons from his father. Chances were good he had a serious matter to discuss.

“Go,” Caroline whispered. “I shall be fine.”

“You are sure?”

“Perfectly.”

With a reluctant nod, Benedict gave his attention to the butler. “Thank you, Stokes. If you would be good enough to call for a carriage to take Mrs. Granger back to the vicarage, I shall join my father right away.”

“Very good, my lord.” Stokes bowed and then started toward the front door. “This way, if you please, Mrs. Granger.”

Caroline offered Benedict a small smile. “You see? Stokes has me well in hand.”

It was true. Stokes could be counted on to ensure Caroline was cared for. But it was disconcertingly difficult to leave and allow the butler to do his job.

“I hope you are able to rest once you are back at the vicarage,” he said.

“Nora will insist upon it.” She hesitated. “I shall check on Hester again soon, but would you be so good as to notify me if her husband’s condition worsens?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you, Benedict.” She bobbed a brief curtsy, then hurried after Stokes.

Benedict watched her go. Stokes was already talking to Wesley at the door. The young footman would undoubtedly be sent off to the stables again straightway. Caroline would not have long to wait, and it would behoove Benedict to have his father able to claim the same.

Crossing the great hall quickly, Benedict gave a brief knock on the door to his father’s study and walked in. His father was sitting at his desk, an open ledger and a pile of correspondence before him.

“Ah, Benedict. There you are.” His father stood to greet him, his dark hair streaked with gray. He was more reliant upon the spectacles he held in his hand than he had been in years past, but his commanding presence had yet to dim.

“This room is not the same when you are gone, Father,” Benedict said, moving to join him. “I daresay the desk and chair are glad to have you back.”