Kitabı oku: «Silk And Seduction Bundle 2», sayfa 15

Chapter Thirteen

Midge had been practically swooning with admiration at the masterful way Monty had marched in and dealt with Stephen.

It was only once he’d settled her on the seat of his carriage and climbed in beside her that all her insecurities regarding her place in his life came swarming back.

When he put his arm round her shoulders, she stiffened and turned her head away.

‘What is it, Midge? Something still bothering you?’

‘Well, yes, as a matter of fact,’ she snapped. ‘It may seem like a small detail to you, but I would—’ she clenched her fists and lifted her chin ‘—I would rather stay with Stephen than reside in your house while you trawl the streets for a mistress!’

‘Trawl the streets for a…’ He crossed to the seat opposite her, and took her fists in his hands. ‘Midge, I thought you knew I came to London to see if there was anything I could do, as a civilian, to join the struggle against Bonaparte. We talked about it…’

‘Yes! And then you talked to your father about setting up a mistress or two as a reward for getting me pregnant!’

‘Oh, my God. Is that what he told you? I only heard the part about you attempting to seduce the grooms the minute my back was turned.’ He ran his thumbs over her clenched fists soothingly. ‘As if that was not bad enough. No wonder you ran out on me.’

‘Are you attempting to deny it?’

‘Emphatically,’ he declared.

She looked up at him, eyes narrowed with suspicion.

‘You did not even say goodbye,’ she accused him. ‘The minute you could go, you just went. Without a backward look!’

‘I came to bid you farewell,’ he countered. ‘But you were being terribly sick. And I felt—’

‘Disgusted!’ she spat.

He shook his head. ‘Guilty. It is my child you are carrying. I am the one who made you ill. I did not know how to face you. What to say. I am so sorry for leaving you the way I did. For leaving you at all.’

He looked so contrite, she wondered if he might be telling the truth. ‘If what your father told me was not true, where did he get such a horrible idea from?’

He looked more shamefaced than ever, which redoubled her wariness.

‘Midge, please understand that all I was doing was trying to avoid a confrontation. If I had told the old man the real reason I was so intent on coming to London, he would most probably have flown into one of his rages. Well, now that you have been on the receiving end of one of them, you will perhaps more readily understand why I gave up arguing with him years ago. I confess, I just let him assume what he wanted about my reasons for saying I was coming to town. But believe me, I have no intention of setting up a mistress. When,’ he continued with a rueful smile, ‘would I have the energy to mount one, whilst I am married to such a handful as you?’

He had made the feeble attempt to tease her into a more cheerful frame of mind because he could not bear to see those tears that were running silently down her cheeks. Especially since Rick had told him she never cried.

So he was appalled when she looked as though he had just mortally wounded her.

‘Don’t mock me,’ she gasped, as though it hurt her to breath. ‘I know you have never taken me seriously, I know I am a figure of fun to you, and that you only married me because you were completely sure you could never fall in love with me, but—’

‘What! Not fall in love with you? Where on earth did you get such a crazy notion?’

‘Y-your father,’ she sobbed. ‘He said…’

He could tell what the old devil must have said, or she would not keep on crying like this. With an oath, he drew her across the coach and onto his lap, where he held her tight.

‘Please, don’t cry, love. And please put everything he told you out of your mind. It was all a pack of lies! I am sorry my way of dealing with my father has hurt you. I would never intentionally hurt you. And as for not taking you seriously, that is simply not true. You are the light of my life.’

‘You say that now, but you would not take me to London with you, would you? Because you feared I would embarrass you!’

‘What? How could you think that?’

‘What other reason could there be, for not taking me with you, if it was not so that you could search freely for a mistress?’

‘Because I cannot keep my hands off you, of course,’ he replied.

She frowned up at him in complete bewilderment. With a sigh, he explained, ‘The doctor said we must cease from having marital relations, now that you are with child. Your mother’s problems in that department are apparently very well-known. First they thought she was barren, and then she had miscarriages. Dr Cottee said you may be at risk, too. I had not wanted to alarm you by telling you what he said,’ he grimaced, shaking his head. ‘God, I seem to have made all the wrong choices where you are concerned.’

When she flinched, he knew she had misinterpreted his last statement.

‘Oh, no. Not that. Not in marrying you. That is the only thing I do seem to have done right, lately.’

There was a lurch and a blast of cold air, and they both looked up in bewilderment to see one of Monty’s footmen holding open the carriage door.

Rather than letting go of her, Monty attempted to clamber out of the carriage with Midge still held tightly in his arms.

‘What are you doing?’ she squealed. ‘Put me down!’

‘Not a chance,’ he growled, once he had got both feet planted firmly on the pavement. ‘I am not—’ he planted a swift kiss on her parted lips—‘going to let go of you until I absolutely have to. Have you no idea of what it did to me, when I thought I’d lost you?’ His arms tightened convulsively round her. ‘I imagined you lying hurt somewhere, unable to get home…’ he grated, as he mounted the steps to the front door.

‘I thought I’d lost you too—’ she nodded, clasping him tighter round the neck as she saw exactly why he needed to maintain this physical contact ‘—to a mistress.’

‘It is bad enough,’ he panted as he climbed the stairs, ‘that I am going to have to leave you alone once we get to your bedroom.’

‘I don’t see why,’ Midge objected. ‘It seems perfectly ridiculous to suppose that making love with you might harm the baby. After all, my mother had her affair while she was pregnant. And my father apparently saw nothing amiss with that.’

Monty came to an abrupt halt on the landing. Then he said, slowly, ‘I have never had a very high opinion of Dr Cottee.’

And Midge finally stopped crying. The angry flush faded from her cheeks. The corners of her mouth lifted a little. She shifted her position, experimentally. Monty’s breathing grew laboured. His eyes darkened.

And Midge smiled in very feminine satisfaction as she saw the truth.

‘You want me?’ She smiled. ‘And only me? Even though…’

He saw another wave of doubts go washing through her.

‘Even though what?’ he prompted. ‘Come on, out with it, so I can crush whatever maggot it is you’ve got in your head now.’

He strode through with her into the bedroom, and gently laid her down. She pouted up at him as he moved away, but he shook his head, holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender.

‘I cannot see you lying there, and not want to ravish you within an inch of your life. And apart from the fact Dr Cottee has warned me that would be an utterly selfish and possibly disastrous thing to do, I need you to talk to me.’

He seized a ladder-backed chair, reversed it and sat down with his arms crossed along the top, his chin resting on his hands, as though he was using it to shield himself from her irresistible allure. Midge could not help putting her power over him to the test. She wriggled a little and stretched her arms over her head, noting with pure satisfaction the way his eyes darkened and his breathing hitched in his throat.

‘Stop that, you little tease,’ he growled. ‘It is not fair.’ Then he frowned. ‘Or perhaps it is. Perhaps you need to punish me, just a little, for the hurt you have endured on my account.’

‘No!’ she sat bolt upright, immediately contrite. ‘I would never hurt you, not purposely!’

‘No.’ He smiled fondly. ‘I knew that. Even when the twins told me you had run off with your fancy man, I knew you could never be so cruel. Even—’ and his face fell abruptly ‘—even though you loved him…’

‘Him? You mean Stephen?’

‘No. That other fellow,’ he said grimly. ‘The one you were dreaming about, that night on Lady Carteret’s terrace. The one your family made you give up, so that you could marry me. And look what a rotten husband I proved to be!’ He ran his fingers through his hair.

‘You thought I had run off with another man! Oh, no!’ It was her turn to look guilty now. ‘Oh, Monty, you never had any cause to be jealous. It was always you. There has never been anyone else.’

‘But you were drifting about with that dreamy look in your eyes. And you loathed me…’

‘I loathed Viscount Mildenhall. I had always thought that Monty sounded like exactly the sort of man I ought to marry.’

He went very still for a second, then said, slowly, ‘And you have been tortured at the thought of me taking a mistress. Does this mean,’ he whispered, ‘you love me? A little?’

She nodded, shyly, and lay back down among the pillows, revelling in the way he was looking at her. As though she meant the world to him.

‘You did not like me much when we first met, either,’ she pointed out, too scared to ask outright if he might love her a little, too. ‘And you only married me as a favour to Rick.’

He winced. ‘I should not have let you think that. For it was not the truth.’

‘Not?’

He shook his head as though in annoyance. ‘I was only in London because I had got to the end of my tether, down at Shevington. My father made me feel so useless! The only value I had in his eyes was as a means to produce the next generation. I did not bother arguing with him that time, either. We had already clashed enough, during the months I had been there. But—’ and he speared his fingers through his hair in a frustrated gesture ‘—once I got here, the husband hunters came out in force anyway. I thought you were one of them. The scandalous Miss Hebden.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘But even though I believed so many bad things about you, I found myself looking out for you everywhere I went. Despised myself for wanting to catch a glimpse of you. And not being able to help myself. You were driving me out of my mind! After that scorching kiss, I knew I had to marry you. I made the appointment to see your uncle the very next morning. Before I knew you were Midge.’

‘Oh!’

‘But then, something wonderful happened. I met you at the theatre and found you were Rick’s sister. Perhaps now would be a good time to tell you that I used to lie awake in my bivouac, after hearing one of those letters you used to write to Rick, dreaming of coming home to someone who would love me like that. Like you loved Rick. No—’ he flushed slightly ‘—I don’t mean as a brother. I mean unreservedly. Well, when I found out Rick’s loyal, loving sister, Midge, was the same girl as the one who had kissed me with such passion on Lady Carteret’s terrace, I was even more determined to snap you up before someone else got wind of what a treasure was on the market.’

‘Oh,’ said Midge again, going pink with pleasure. ‘Why did you not just tell me all this?’

‘And risk laying my heart at your feet for you to trample on? A man has his pride!’ He hung his head, and studied his boots for a couple of seconds, before adding, ‘I bitterly regret the way I held back.’

She sat up again, and reached for his hands. ‘It is all behind us now. And I will never trample on your heart, Monty. Or your pride. I—’ She took a deep breath. One of them had to be the first to take the plunge. ‘I love you.’

‘And I love you too,’ he said, dazed. And then he flung back his head and laughed. ‘We’re in love!’

‘So when are you going to stop talking and just kiss me?’ asked Midge plaintively.

He took her hands that were trembling slightly and kissed her salty lips. And kissed her, and kissed her, until she truly felt like the most alluring woman on earth.

‘Midge,’ he groaned at last. ‘We have to stop. Before I am unable to stop. We must not do anything that might harm our child!’

She sat back, completely abashed. He was still able to think clearly and consider the consequences of what they were doing. Whereas she…she laid her hands protectively over her stomach. Over the past couple of days she had hiked several miles across country in unsuitable footwear, then sat up all night in an inn nursing a man who wished her no good. She had fled to London in only the clothes she stood up in, and got soaked to the skin, all the while in a state of complete emotional turmoil. And her mother, she suddenly recalled, had lost a baby, simply because she’d suffered a terrible shock.

Her eyes flew to his guiltily as it suddenly hit her that any one of the things she had done over the last couple of days might have brought on a miscarriage.

‘Oh, Monty,’ she gasped, feeling slightly sick. ‘I have behaved dreadfully, have I not? How can you ever forgive me?’

‘There is nothing to forgive,’ he said tenderly. ‘I should have been taking better care of you. I know how impulsive you are. I should have been with you when you heard about your brother. You had nobody. Nobody.’ His face hardened. ‘And, God knows, I have always found Shevington a cold, inhospitable place. How could I have left you there alone, just because I could no longer make love to you? It was selfish of me.’

‘You are the least selfish man I have ever met,’ she breathed fervently.

He reached for her over the back of the chair, his expression wry as he rubbed his hands soothingly across her hunched shoulders. Who did she have to compare him with? The stepfather who had not bothered to make any financial provision for her? The stepbrother who would not open his door to her when she was in dire need? Or the half brother who had turned up at her wedding with the sole intention of ruining her day?

‘Then you agree, for tonight, we must sleep apart? Just one last time?’ he said, brushing a tendril of hair from her face. ‘Until we hear differently from another medical man, I refuse to put you at risk.’

‘Is it too much to ask that you just hold me?’ she whispered.

He shut his eyes tight, as though he was in pain. ‘I do not think you understand quite what you are asking of me.’

She relented. ‘If you can be noble about it, then so can I. But after tomorrow…’

‘I am looking forward to tomorrow.’ He grinned. ‘As I have woken up looking forward to every day since I married you.’

‘Oh,’ she breathed, misty-eyed. ‘Have you?’

He nodded, laying his chin on his hands again and gazing at her with a fond smile. ‘It is hard to credit, now, that I was afraid that civilian life would be a dead bore! No chance of that with you in my life.’

Her spirits sank. She knew he was only trying to lighten the atmosphere between them, but the truth was, she still felt like something of a liability.

‘If all the doctors say we must not sleep together for a while, I will go back to Shevington, and stay there, if you like,’ she offered bravely. If he could make sacrifices, then so could she. ‘I don’t want to be a burden. And I know I will most probably get into some dreadful scrape if I stay in town.’

‘First of all,’ he said sternly, ‘I have no intention of sending you back to Shevington! Nor returning for anything but brief visits for the foreseeable future. I have achieved all that I can, for now. The tenants know I am not cut from the same cloth as Piers. The steward knows I am onto him and that I won’t tolerate that kind of behaviour once I hold the reins. If he wants to keep his job, he will have to clean up his act! The twins have been sent to school…’

‘Oh, and how they hate me for it!’

‘They may do now,’ he said soothingly, ‘because they have never known anything but the unhealthy atmosphere that prevails at Shevington. Once they have seen something of the outside world and made friends, they will understand why you acted to get them out.’

‘Do you think so?’ she said wistfully.

Monty nodded firmly. ‘And we shall make sure we are there for them, during school holidays. Show them we are their friends. They are not fools, Midge. They will come round.’

But a frown still pleated her brow.

‘And as for your propensity for getting into scrapes, well, I shall just have to stick to you like a burr. And you won’t hear me complaining. You are an utter delight, to me, Midge, exactly as you are. Funny, and impulsive, and kind and brave and warm.’

‘But,’ she persisted, ‘you said you wanted to get involved with politics. You will not be able to do much of that if you are babysitting me!’

He stroked one finger along the curve of her cheek. ‘When I heard you had gone missing, Bonaparte seemed of less importance than a flea. There are plenty of other men arguing my point of view in the house. But I am the only husband you have. You and the baby, you are my family now.’

Something inside Midge felt as if it was melting. All her life, it seemed, she had been waiting to hear somebody say that. With tears streaming down her face, she knelt up on the bed and flung her arms round his neck.

‘Oh, Monty,’ she sobbed, ‘I do love you so!’

‘Funny way to show it,’ he observed with a wry grin. And through her tears, Midge smiled back at him.

And he finally knew that his father was wrong. In his heart now, instead of just inside his head.

Midge loved him. For himself. It did not matter who his mother had been or how much money he had or what title he held. She was plainly willing to follow him to the ends of the earth. She would even brave Shevington on her own, if he asked her to.

And best of all, he was head over heels in love with her too. And he did not care what his father might say. Nothing had ever felt so bloody marvellous!

Regency Silk & Scandal
Unlacing the Innocent Miss

by

Margaret McPhee

About the Author

MARGARET MCPHEE loves to use her imagination – an essential requirement for a trained scientist. However, when she realised that her imagination was inspired more by the historical romances she loves to read than by her experiments, she decided to put the ideas down on paper. She has since left her scientific life behind, retaining only the romance – her husband, whom she met in a laboratory. In summer, Margaret enjoys cycling along the coastline overlooking the Firth of Clyde in Scotland, where she lives. In winter, tea, cakes and a good book suffice.

Prologue

May 1815, London

Outside in the darkness of the night a dog was barking.

A necklace of diamonds lay within a nest of black silken rope coiled on Lord Evedon’s desk. The diamonds glittered beneath the light of the candelabra as he picked up the necklace, letting it dangle and sway from his fingers, all the while watching the woman standing so quietly before him across the desk.

‘Well?’ he finally said, and his expression was cold. ‘What have you to say for yourself, Miss Meadowfield?’

A look of confusion crossed Rosalind Meadowfield’s face. The concern that she had felt at being summoned to attend Lord Evedon in his study had become fear. The hour was too late, and they were alone. His mood was not good, and it could be no coincidence that he was holding his mother’s missing jewels.

‘Lady Evedon’s diamonds, they have been found?’ She did not understand what else he expected her to say.

‘Indeed they have.’ He spoke quietly enough, politely even, but she could hear the anger that lay beneath. ‘Do you know where they were found?’

Her puzzlement increased, along with her sense of foreboding. ‘I do not.’

His eyes seemed to narrow and he glanced momentarily away as if in disgust. ‘The crime is ill enough, Miss Meadowfield. Do not compound it by lying.’

The tempo of her heart increased. She eyed him warily. ‘I am sorry, my lord, but I do not understand.’

‘Then understand this,’ he spoke abruptly. ‘The diamonds were found hidden in your bedchamber, wrapped within your undergarments.’

‘My undergarments?’ She felt her stomach turn over. ‘That is not possible.’

He did not answer, just stared at her with angry accusation. And in that small pregnant silence she knew precisely what he thought and why he had called her here.

‘You cannot believe that I would steal from Lady Evedon?’ Her words were faint, their pitch high with incredulity. ‘I would not do such a thing. There must be some mistake.’

‘There is no mistake. Graves himself was there when the diamonds were discovered within your chamber. Do you mean to call into question the propriety of the butler who has worked for the Evedon family for over forty years?’

‘I do not, but neither do I know how the diamonds came to be hidden within my clothing.’ She gripped her hands together, her palms sliding in their cold clamminess, and bit at her lower lip. ‘I swear it is the truth, my lord.’

‘And what is the significance of this?’ From the surface of the desk he lifted the rope, and even in the subdued lighting from the candles and the fire, she could see its dark silken sheen. With one end of the rope secured tight within his fingers, he released the rest; as it dropped, Rosalind saw, to her horror, that it had been tied in the shape of a noose. She could not prevent the gasp escaping her lips.

‘Well?’ One movement of his fingers and the noose swung slightly.

‘I have never seen that rope before. I know nothing of it.’ Her heart was hammering so hard that she felt sick. All of her past was back in an instant—everything that she had fought so hard to hide—conjured by that one length of rope.

He made a sound of disbelief. ‘I warned my mother against taking on a girl without a single name she could offer to provide her with a character. But Lady Evedon is too kind and trusting a spirit. What else have you been stealing these years that you have worked as her companion? Small items perhaps? Objects that would pass unnoticed? And now you become brave, taking advantage of a woman whose mind has grown fragile.’

‘I deny it most fervently. I hav—’

But Evedon did not let her finish. ‘I do not wish to hear it. You are a liar as well as a thief, Miss Meadowfield.’

She felt her face flood with heat, and her fingers were trembling so much that she gripped them all the tighter that he would not see it.

‘The diamonds we have thankfully recovered; with the emeralds we have not been so fortunate. Will you at least have the decency to tell me where you have hidden them?’

She stared at him, her mind still reeling from shock, too slow and stilted to think coherently. ‘I tell you, they are not within my possession.’

‘Then you have sold them already?’ The silken rope slithered through his fingers to land in a dark pile upon the desk. He pocketed the diamond necklace. The clawed feet of his chair scraped loud, like talons gouging against the polished wooden floor, as he pushed the chair back and rose to his feet.

‘Of course not.’ Instinctively she stepped back, just a tiny pace, but enough to increase the distance between them. ‘I have taken nothing belonging to her ladyship.’

‘I doubt you have had time to rid yourself of the emeralds, and they are most assuredly not within your chamber. So where are they concealed?’ He moved out from behind the barrier of the desk and walked round to stand before her, facing her directly.

Rosalind’s throat dried. ‘I am no thief,’ she managed to whisper. ‘There has been a terrible mistake here.’

He ignored her. ‘Empty your pockets, Miss Meadowfield.’

She stared at him all the more, her heart beating a frenzied tattoo while her mind struggled to believe what he was saying, and she could not rid herself of the sensation that this nightmare into which she had walked could not really be happening.

‘I said turn out your pockets.’ He enunciated each word as if she were a simpleton.

Her hands were shaking and her cheeks burning as she removed a handkerchief from her pocket and pulled the interior out to show that it was empty.

‘And the others.’

‘I have no other pockets.’

‘I do not believe you, Miss Meadowfield.’ The logs crackled upon the fire. He stood there silent and still, before suddenly grabbing her arm and pulling her close enough to allow his hand to sweep a search over her bodice and skirts.

‘Lord Evedon!’ She struggled within his arms, trying to break free, but his grip tightened.

‘I will not let the matter lie so lightly. You will tell me where they are.’

‘I did not take them,’ she cried and struggled all the harder.

The dog was still barking and, as if in harmony, came the sound of a woman’s cries and shouts from upstairs within the house.

Rosalind ceased her resistance, knowing that it was the dowager that cried out.

Evedon knew it too, but he did not relinquish his hold upon her.

‘Do not think to make a fool of me so easily, Miss Meadowfield. If you will not divulge the whereabouts of the emeralds to me, perhaps you will be more forthcoming to the constable in the morning.’

From other parts of the house came the sounds of voices and running. And of hurried footsteps approaching the study door.

‘No,’ she whispered, almost to herself, and in that moment, his grasp slackened so that she succeeded in wrenching herself free of him. But the force of the momentum carried her crashing backwards towards the desk. Her hands flailed wide seeking an anchor with which to save herself, and finding nothing but the pile of books stacked upon the desk. Her fingers gripped to them, clung to them, pulling them down with her. From the pale fan of their pages a single folded letter escaped to drift down. Rosalind landed in a heap alongside the books with the letter trapped flat beneath her fingertips.

Lord Evedon’s face paled. She saw the sudden change in his expression—the undisguised horror, the fear—as he stared, not at her, but at the letter. He reached out and snatched it back, the violence of his action startling her.

A rap of knuckles sounded against the study door.

‘Lord Evedon.’ She recognized the voice as Mr Graves, the butler.

Evedon stuffed the letter hastily into his pocket. She saw the glimmer of sweat upon the skin of his upper lip and chin as she scrambled to her feet.

‘Attend to your appearance,’ he hissed in a whisper.

Only then did Rosalind realize that her chignon had unravelled, freeing her hair to uncoil down her back. She crouched and began searching for the missing hairpins.

‘M’lord,’ Graves called again. ‘It is a matter of urgency.’

Lord Evedon quickly smoothed the front of his coat and waistcoat.

‘Up.’ And with a rough hand, he yanked her to her feet by the shoulder of her dress, ripping it slightly in the process. ‘You will speak nothing of this to my mother. Do I make myself clear?’

She nodded.

At last he granted Graves admittance.

‘Forgive me, m’lord, but it is Lady Evedon.’

‘Another of her turns?’

Graves coughed delicately. ‘I am afraid so, my lord. She requests Miss Meadowfield’s presence.’ The butler did not even glance in Rosalind’s direction, and yet she could not help but remember what Lord Evedon had said about Graves overseeing the discovery of the diamonds. He had searched through her possessions, sparing nothing, not even her undergarments, and he thought her a thief. Her cheeks heated with the shame and injustice of it.

‘Very well.’ Lord Evedon’s gaze moved from Graves to Rosalind. ‘You will attend her ladyship, and this other matter will be concluded upon the morning.’

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak, aware of her burning cheeks and her unkempt hair and of what Mr Graves and the small collection of maids and footmen gathered in the hallway all thought her. She could see the accusation in their eyes and the tightening of their lips in disapproval.

She wanted so much to deny the unjust accusation, to say that she was as shocked at what was unravelling as they, but all turned their faces from her. She had no option but to follow Mr Graves up the staircase, aware with every step that she took of Lord Evedon at her back and of what the morning would bring.

Lady Evedon was no longer crying by the time they reached the room. She lay there so small and exhausted and frail within the high four-poster bed, her face an unnatural shade of white.

‘I saw his face,’ she cried. ‘He was there, right there.’ She pointed to the window where she had pulled the curtain back.

‘Who was there?’ Rosalind followed the dowager’s terrified gaze.

‘The one that follows me always. The one that never leaves me,’ she whispered. ‘He was no gentleman. He lied…Robert lied and I believed him.’

Rosalind glanced nervously at Lord Evedon.

‘There is no one there, mother. It is only you and me and Miss Meadowfield.’

‘You are quite certain?’ Lady Evedon asked.

‘I am certain. It was another of your nightmares.’ He pressed a hand to his mother’s, his face filled with concern. ‘I shall send for Dr Spentworth.’

‘No.’ Lady Evedon shook her head. ‘There is no need. You are right. It was a nightmare, nothing more.’

‘Then we will request the doctor’s presence in the morning, to ensure that all is as it should be.’

‘I understand well your implication, Charles; you think that I am going mad!’

‘I was not suggesting any such thing. I am but concerned for your health.’

Lady Evedon nodded, but Rosalind could see in the lady’s face that she was not convinced. ‘Of course. I am merely tired, and the barking of that wretched animal outside woke me with a fright.’ She seemed almost recovered. ‘You may leave us now; Miss Meadowfield will read to me until I fall asleep. Her voice soothes my overly excited nerves.’ She turned to Rosalind with a little smile. ‘You look rather pale, my dear. Are you feeling unwell?’