And yet not enough. She owed him an apology, at least, but the words would not cross her lips.
“I have heard from my sister.”
Not what she had expected to hear. Her tension seeped away. “Is that good or bad?”
He pushed his fingers through his hair. “It’s unfortunate. She wants me to bring Louise to London for a visit.”
“Which we are planning anyway.”
“Yes, but I was not planning on seeing Barbara.”
“Why?”
“Ah, the straightforwardness of your mind. It is one of the very first things I noticed about you.”
A curl of pleasure unfurled within. “And what were the others?”
He squinted against the sunlight, smiling. “Your voice. Your hair. Your lips, especially.”
Unbidden, she touched her mouth.
As though remembering himself, he cleared his throat. “I wanted to ask you to keep an eye on me during any visits we have with her. If you notice any oddness in my visage, or if I go into a seizure, I will need your help.”
“I promised I would help you,” she said gently. “I meant it.”
“Thank you.” He paused. “I have not been to London since the accident.”
“I see. All will be well, my lord. I shall be praying wholeheartedly.”
He inclined his head, and her heart squeezed painfully. Already she felt too much for him. What would happen when she left? She could only foresee the pain of parting, and she felt powerless to stop it.
* * *
Dominic was never so glad for Henrietta’s presence as when they arrived at his sister’s house. In a way he had not anticipated, having a governess sufficiently diverted Barbara’s attention from chastising him.
After a two-day ride from St. Raven, in which he’d spent more time than he liked losing to Louise at Wit, he was exhausted. To be fair, he had not honed rhyming in years, while she admitted to practicing before their London trip so that she could best him. A few times he had wondered how Miss Gordon might fare at wordplay.
She had the intelligence, but did she have the imagination? Either way, he had no doubt she’d make them laugh. The perplexing lady had ridden in the other carriage with a female servant and it had been disconcerting to realize he missed her acidic take on his humor. Nevertheless, he and Louise kept themselves occupied and before he knew it, their carriage was rolling down the well-kept streets of Mayfair.
Despite the hour being before noon, servants bustled in the streets. Very few of the peerage were to be seen. Most still lay in their beds, recovering from the merriment of the night before. Resting for more tonight.
It was a well-laid rhythm that had also been his life until the accident. He had attended university, went on the requisite Grand Tour and then spent his days gallivanting about without a thought or a responsibility. He’d collected an appreciation for the aesthetic qualities of other cultures and histories.
He’d even gone so far as to commission a portrait, which hung in his house at the other side of Mayfair.
Their carriages pulled up to Barbara’s home a little before noon. It was a fine-looking townhome. She’d married well. A viscount, if Dominic recalled, though he had not paid particular attention to the match. Edmund had arranged the relationship.
A familiar clutch of grief gripped him and for a moment he did not realize that his valet held open the carriage door. Louise exited first. Her yip of delight trailed her, and as he stepped from the carriage, he saw Henrietta doing the same from the other.
Their eyes met. She looked attractive in a pale yellow muslin and quiet bonnet. Her reticule hung from her wrist and had anyone not known her true situation, she might’ve been called a lady.
He gave instructions to his drivers to take the carriages and servants to his own London house. No doubt Barbara would send him and Louise home in a stylish curricle later. Bracing himself for his sister’s wagging tongue, he went up the steps and came to a halt in the hallway. Louise stood at Barbara’s side, listening in rapt attention as Henrietta described a medical procedure that involved...gruesome details.
His sister’s wide eyes and complete stillness lent Dominic a sense of worry.
Barbara waited for a pause in Henrietta’s speech before turning to him. “St. Raven, darling brother. An introduction, please?”
Ah. That look. It usually made him cringe because it was inevitably followed by questions about his life. The most notable being, when did he plan to marry? That had been her preaccident ritual, at least.
He swept Barbara an overdone bow designed to spark her irritation. “Good evening to you, too.” Louise giggled behind a hand. “Shall I present the ever lovely Miss Stanford? She hails from the verdant region of—”
“Cease your antics.” Barbara held up a hand. In the months since he’d seen her last, she’d grown more stuffy. “The governess, I presume.”
“Ah, yes, Miss Gordon. Meet my sister, Lady Winthrop.”
Henrietta performed a wobbly curtsy.
Barbara pulled a jewel-encrusted chained quizzing glass from her pocket and put it to her eye. Presumably to examine Henrietta more closely, but the appendage made her look ten years older. And so very pretentious. “Is there a reason, Miss Gordon, why you are standing in my hallway rather than in the servants’ hall?”
Henrietta’s face suffused immediately with color. Louise’s wiggling stilled and a tense silence ensued.
How often Barbara had employed that tone with him. He truly disliked it. He had thought to be relieved with her attention focused on Henrietta, but sympathy overrode his own survival instincts. That and the knowledge that the intelligence of his governess, combined with her world experiences, would not allow her to suffer his sister’s superiority complex for long.
He could not predict what Henrietta would say, but undoubtedly, it would be atypical for someone of her station.
“She goes with me,” Louise said, stealing her aunt’s attention and Dominic’s thoughts. “I need her.”
Barbara lowered her glass. “Need?” She glanced around, ascertaining that the servants were not visible or within earshot.
Louise nodded vigorously,
