Page 78 of The Paid Companion

“Good God, man.”

Arthur sat down. “The situation has grown considerably more dangerous. I am going to need your help, Fleming.”

Elenora heard the knock on her bedchamber just as she got herself free of the domino and gown. Margaret.

“One moment,” she called.

She stuffed the gown and costume out of sight in the wardrobe, seized her wrapper and pulled it snugly around herself. She yanked the pins from her hair, plopped a white cap on her head and removed her earrings.

A glance in the mirror assured her that she looked like a woman who had just been summoned from her bed.

She opened the door, hoping that Margaret would not notice that she was breathing rather quickly for someone who had been asleep.

But Margaret did not look as though she was in a mood to pay attention to extraneous details. She radiated anxiety.

“Are you all right?” Elenora asked, alarmed.

“Yes, yes, I am fine, but I must speak with you.”

“Of course.” Elenora stood back to allow her into the room. “What is wrong?”

“It is Arthur. He has taken Bennett into his library for a private conversation.” Margaret paced nervously back and forth in front of the dresser. “I am terrified that he is going to force Bennett to declare his intentions.”

“I see.”

“I reminded Arthur that I am a widow and therefore have every right to a private life with a gentleman, regardless of his intentions.”

“Indeed.”

“But you’ve known Arthur long enough now to realize that he is inclined to take charge of one’s life, whether or not one wishes him to do so.”

“Yes, well, if it makes you feel any better, I think I can assure you that Bennett’s intentions toward you are not the subject of the conversation that is taking place downstairs in the library.”

Margaret stopped her pacing and turned to face her with a questioning expression. “Are you certain?”

“Quite certain. Perhaps you had better sit down. It is a long story that begins with George Lancaster’s murder.”

“Dear heaven.” Margaret sat down quite abruptly on the dressing-table chair.

Bennett left, a man committed to a noble cause, some thirty minutes later. Arthur saw him out the door and locked it behind him. He turned down the lamps in the front hall and made his way back to the library.

Inside the long chamber, he went to the sofa, crouched on one knee and reached for the blue garter.

He picked up the damning bit of ribbon and got to his feet. For a moment he studied the garter coiled in the palm of his hand. It was delicate and enticingly feminine. He could feel himself getting aroused all over again, just looking at the thing. He recalled how he had coaxed it off Elenora’s leg so that he could lower her stocking.

He would never walk into this room again without remembering what had happened here this evening, he reflected. Making love to Elenora had wrought some change in him that he could not yet describe, but he knew that it had affected him very deeply.

Whatever happened in the future, he would never be the same man that he had been before this night.

25

Elenora delayed going downstairs the next morning until she could no longer stand the pangs of hunger. Even then she hesitated and considered requesting that a tray be brought to her bedchamber.

But in the end, she opened the door and marched determinedly out into the hall. Eating in her room in order to avoid having to confront Arthur would have been cowardly in the extreme.

She was surprised to find herself feeling quite fit. She had expected to spend a restless night, but to her amazement she had slept soundly. That was fortunate, she told herself as she reached the bottom of the staircase. At least her eyes were not puffy and red and her skin was not dull from lack of proper sleep.

She had selected a green muslin gown and a white ruff to wear for this first encounter with Arthur. She felt that the vivid color made her appear somehow more confident and sure of herself.

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