Page 58

“Hear, hear.” Lord Byrdsall voiced his approval.

“Most wise, my lord,” Maidstone said, adding his approbation to Byrdsall’s and bringing a gratified smile to Monteagle’s face.

“Yes, well, one must do what one must to maintain the law, I always say.” Their host waited until the servant at his elbow had refilled his goblet, and then he raised it. “To King James.”

All around the table, goblets rose, and a chorus of voices echoed the toast. “King James.”

Simon took the obligatory sip of mead, his elation that Monteagle was willing to act upon the warning tempered by the fact that Isla had yet to reappear. She had obviously delivered the letter some time ago. What had become of her?

One of the many servants exchanging empty platters for those covered in a variety of cheeses appeared at his elbow. She leaned forward to remove the trencher containing his half-eaten apple. “May I take this for you, m’ lord?”

“You may.” Another mouthful of food was beyond him at present.

“Actually, would you be so good as to leave the apple a little longer?”

Simon swiveled at the request and was on his feet before the servant had fully retreated empty-handed. “Isla!” Barely remembering to lower his voice, he seized her hand. “Are you well?”

“I am.”

The stains on her gown seemed to have multiplied, and a few strands of hair had fallen free of their pins.

“I was concerned for you,” he said. A small leaf was caught on her Medici collar. He reached for it, brushing his fingers against her neck as he pulled it free.

Her cautious smile was a good reminder that they were not alone and could not speak freely.

“Come.” He took her hand, straightway noticing the angry scratches that had not been there earlier. “I deeply regret that you were unable to remove the stains from your gown after all this time.”

“And I regret that I have been gone for so long.” She took her seat, and he did the same. “The scouring house had no fresh water.”

“Oh, you poor dear.” They had been wise to refrain from speaking plainly. It seemed that Mrs. Ellerson had been eavesdropping, and now her expression was full of sympathy. “You should have returned directly. None of us would have minded your stains.”

“That is very good of you,” Isla said. It was a ridiculous response to an equally ridiculous comment, but Isla must have gauged Mrs. Ellerson’s temperament better than he had because it seemed to please the older lady.

“Well, I have been told that I have a very compassionate nature.” Mrs. Ellerson smiled serenely. “I find that it is helpful to remember that we all have to endure such discomfitures at one time or another.”

Discomfitures? Simon could scarcely believe the lady’s empty-headedness. Lord Monteagle had just received an anonymous threatening note, had chosen to curtail the evening’s activities so as to take it directly to Sir Cecil, and the lady was extolling her own empathetic virtues.

Isla took a small bite of the apple on their trencher. “This delicious fruit dessert aside, what more did I miss whilst I was gone?” she asked.

“Lord Monteagle received a rather ominous warning regarding the opening of Parliament,” Simon said, jumping in before Mrs. Ellerson could offer any more words of commiseration.

“Oh my!” Isla’s voice was filled with concern even as her eyes brimmed with questions.

“He has decided to take the missive directly to Sir Cecil this evening,” he told her.

The tension fell from her shoulders as though it were melting butter. “Then, I pray Sir Cecil will know how to act.”

“I believe we all entertain the same hope.” Even Whitely. Simon did not say the words out loud, but he spared the insufferable gentleman a brief glance. It seemed that the arrival of the cheese platter had been enough to redirect Whitely’s attention, even if it had not done the same for his daughter. Unlike all the other guests at the head of the table, Lydia was watching Simon intently. Why? Had she seen him take the leaf from Isla’s collar and suspected that Isla had been farther than the scouring room? A trickle of unease skittered down his spine. This event could not end soon enough.

As though Monteagle fully concurred with Simon’s desire, the gentleman rose from the table. “Ladies and gentlemen, I beg you would excuse me. Lady Monteagle and I invite you to stay as long as you wish, but due to my pressing need to reach Westminster before Sir Cecil retires, I must take my leave.”

There was a general murmur of appreciation, and everyone rose. Martha exchanged a quiet word with Maidstone, and as Monteagle strode out of the great hall, they turned to speak with Lady Monteagle.

Guessing that his sister and brother-in-law were as anxious to depart and hear Isla’s report as he was, Simon leaned a little closer to Isla. “I believe Maidstone and Martha may be offering Lady Monteagle their thanks and preparing to leave,” he whispered. “Shall we do the same?” He sensed her nod and took her elbow. “If you will excuse us.” He included all those standing near them. “It appears that Lord and Lady Maidstone are preparing to depart, and as we rode together, we must do the same.”

“What a shame,” Lady Ellerson said. “Miss Crawford and I were just getting to know one another.”

“We shall enjoy it all the more next time, my lady,” Isla said.