with him, so I arranged to call on him today. I will have plenty to keep me occupied the next week, I assure you.”
“And you will want to visit with your son, as well, I expect.”
“Of course, of course. However, with such a charming young lady seeing to it that he is well entertained,” the duke said, smiling in Lydia’s direction, “I doubt he’ll want my grizzled old visage in his sickroom.”
Lydia smiled wanly in response to the compliment, but when Lady Smithfield cleared her throat, she hurried to remark, “I am pleased to be of assistance, Your Grace.”
Emily thought her sister looked about as pleased as if she’d been told she was going to the guillotine, and wondered what she was portraying at the moment. Noble martyrdom, it appeared. Apparently Lydia felt there was no point in trying to resist their mother’s efforts at matchmaking and was playing this new role to the hilt. Emily herself felt that neither she nor Lydia should be forced to marry Lord Wesleigh, but found herself more preoccupied with the mystery of Alexander Williams.
It was for that reason that she accompanied Lydia to Lord Wesleigh’s chamber later that morning. Alexander had admitted to a close friendship with Lord Wesleigh in one of their earlier conversations; this was Emily’s chance to discover more about the gentleman. Also, poor Lydia needed a chaperone, and moral support.
So it was Emily who tapped on Lord Wesleigh’s door and opened it in response to his feeble, “Yes?”
“Good morning, Lord Wesleigh. Your father mentioned that you may be in need of a diversion, so Lydia and I have come to pay you a visit.”
“My father mentioned that, did he?” Wesleigh drawled, and reached with one hand under the covers.
“Well, come in, come in. Mustn’t stand in the doorway. You are liable to create a draft. Drafts are very damaging to someone in my condition.”
Emily walked calmly into the room, but Lydia eyed the man in the bed with trepidation and entered the room most reluctantly. “He is not going to eat you, you know,” Emily whispered to her sister, who gave her a look of reproach and schooled her features into a travesty of a smile that Emily felt made her usually beautiful sister look downright ugly. The man in the bed apparently shared Emily’s sentiments, for he dropped his quizzing glass abruptly and turned with a look of impatience toward Emily.
“How are you feeling today, Lord Wesleigh?” she asked.
“Ghastly. I am sure I shan’t be able to leave this chamber for a sennight, at least.”
“Your father mentioned the same at breakfast this morning. Lydia thought to entertain you by reading to you. Would you enjoy that, Lord Wesleigh?” Emily thought to annoy him by speaking in the hearty tones of a governess to an unruly charge, and was rewarded by seeing his lips twitch into a semblance of a smile.
“I am not deaf, you know, just afflicted with a bad case of the grippe,” he confided to her, neglecting to use the foppish drawl that had so annoyed her previously.
“I am relieved to discover you are neither deaf nor dumb, Lord Wesleigh,” Emily replied, and smiled her first genuine smile at him.
The sight of that impish smile sent him reaching for his quizzing glass again, as if in protection, but before he was able to raise it to his face the young lady shocked him by removing it from his grasp.
“See here, Miss Smithfield—” he sputtered.
“I am sorry, my lord, but it is for your own good. I have just recently discovered that you are neither deaf nor dumb, and it is my suspicion you are not blind, either. However, if you persist in distorting your eyesight, you will find yourself wearing spectacles prematurely. I will just set your weapon, excuse me, quizzing glass, here on the table, where you can retrieve it when you are feeling more the thing.”
“You, my girl, are a minx,” he told her, looking much like a spoiled boy denied his favorite toy.
“And you, my lord, are a fraud. Now, I will leave Lydia here to read to you, and send Bess up to chaperone, as I feel I do not have the type of soothing presence that is desirable in a sickroom, as you would no doubt agree, my lord.” She ignored the look of reproach from both parties in the room and slipped out. She would quiz Lord Wesleigh about his friend on another day. All of a sudden, her suspicions had seemed quite absurd. Such a foppish young man as Lord Wesleigh could not be the friend of a hardened criminal.
She peeked in the room an hour later to find Lydia gone and Lord Wesleigh in conversation with Alexander Williams.
“Oh, excuse me, I did not realize you had a guest.” She turned to leave but was stopped by Williams, who had risen from his seat at her entrance.
“Please stay. We would welcome your company. Lord Wesleigh was just telling me how much he admires your sister.” Alexander grinned down at Sir Marcus, who returned the look with a grimace. He had said nothing of the sort. In actuality, he had spent the ten minutes of Alexander’s visit complaining about the girl.
“She reads with as much animation as a dashed corpse,” he had told Alexander. “Which was bad enough, as I had the deuce of a time trying to stay awake, but, when I finally gave up the struggle and dozed off, I awoke to find her standing above me, her eyes welled up with tears. It was demmed embarrassing. I didn’t know which way to look. ’Pon my word, Wesleigh, the girl walks around like a deuced martyr.”
Alexander had laughed at the scene his friend had described, but he knew something had to be done about the situation. Apparently Lydia was as opposed to the match as he. The sooner this tangle was unraveled, the better.
At the moment, however, Emily was looking at him and his friend with suspicion writ large in her beautiful brown eyes. She had noticed the look they had exchanged and thought the gentlemen might be sharing a joke at her or her sister’s expense. “My sister has many admirable qualities,” she said, in response to Alexander’s comment.
“She does, indeed.” Alexander agreed. “However, I would much rather discuss
Emily looked embarrassed at his comment. “Yes, I was playing, and while I thank you for the compliment, it is undeserved. I practice too sporadically to be truly good. I find myself playing mostly when I want to work out something in my mind.”
“Your thoughts must be quite tumultuous to inspire the performance I just heard. Perhaps it would help if you shared them.”
Emily looked over at Lord Wesleigh, who was listening to her interchange with Williams with great interest. “I do not think so, Mr. Williams, but thank you for your concern.”
“I am concerned. I want you to know that I will always stand your friend, Miss Smithfield,” Alexander said, looking at her intently.
Emily was embarrassed by his look. It was obvious he was being sincere, but there seemed to be another message in the eyes that stared piercingly into hers. She felt very uncomfortable with Lord Wesleigh there.
“Thank you, Mr. Williams,” she managed to reply, and then, in an attempt to lift the serious mood that had descended upon them, she said, “However, I fear Lord Wesleigh is not as kindly disposed toward me.” She paused, and both Williams and Wesleigh looked at her in inquiry. “I stole his quizzing glass.”
Alexander’s lips twitched, but he remarked solemnly, “My dear girl, that is a heinous crime indeed.”
Wesleigh roused himself to enter into the discussion. “Not a laughing matter, Alexander. The young lady forcibly removed my property.”
“Poor chap,” Alexander responded sympathetically, “I suppose you were unable to defend yourself in your weakened condition.”
“Quite so,” Wesleigh replied, his sullen, childish expression quite at odds with the elegance of his ruffled nightshirt and satin dressing gown. Emily’s and Alexander’s eyes met, and Emily had to bite her lip to keep from laughing.
It was probably fortunate that Bess arrived on the scene before Emily could wound Wesleigh’s tender sensibilities any further. “Excuse me, miss, but Lady Abernathy and Lady Cynthia Sommers are downstairs and are wishing to see Lord Wesleigh.”
Emily watched as Alexander and his friend exchanged a look, and wished she knew what they were thinking. It was obvious that Lady Cynthia’s name had affected both of them in some manner. “Should I instruct Bess to bring the ladies up to your chamber, Lord Wesleigh?”
