Page 47 of A Courtesan Countess Worth the Scandal
As he reached for his fork, to force some of the cooled eggs into his mouth, Wilks appeared at the dining room door.
“My Lord, your Uncle is here to see you. Shall I send him through?”
Liam frowned. “Yes, please do.”
In the interim, he hurried to hide the scandal sheets inside the newspaper and set the entire collection of the day’s post on the seat beside him, so his uncle would not spot them. It was foolish, of course, but Liam worried that his uncle might ask to read the paper and discover the unsavory gossip within.
A few moments later, his uncle strode through the door with a cheerful smile upon his face. He went straight to the chair opposite Liam and sat down, while the maid hurried in to pour some coffee.
“Does your unexpected presence this morning mean you are staying in London a while longer?” Liam asked hopefully.
His uncle took a sip of the coffee and gave a sad shake of his head. “I am afraid not, Dear Boy. I have the carriage waiting outside, but I decided I simply could not leave without saying a final farewell.” His expression brightened. “Nor could I leave without offering an invitation to our annual ball, in your honor. As you have not attended during your absence, it entirely slipped my mind to tell you of it!” He chuckled merrily.
Liam canted his head. “What ball is this?”
“Ah, I am rather proud of it, in truth. It was all my idea, though your Aunt made her usual complaints.” Edward pursed his lips in disapproval. “When you departed for your travels, I thought it best to do something that would ensure our charming society in the north remembered who you were. I suppose I also wanted an excuse to be reminded of you.”
Liam’s stomach roiled with guilt, realizing just how hurt his uncle must have been when he ran away from his responsibilities five years ago. Although, Edward had not exactly discouraged it, insisting it would be good for his nephew to forget the torment and return to England refreshed after an extended period, as they used to do when the visited the Continent in the summers.
However, it appeared Edward mistook Liam’s silence for discontent. “Of course, if you would rather I did not hold the ball this year, I can dispense with it.” His tone sounded anxious. “I suppose I should have asked after your permission earlier, but I must ask forgiveness instead. It truly was in celebration of you, and the life you led here before… the unpleasantness.”
“When is it to be?” Liam found his voice, determined not to dismay his uncle.
“A fortnight hence,” Edward replied, with a glint of hope in his eyes. “Truly, I think it would be very pleasant indeed to have the Guest of Honor in attendance, and I know the northern nobility would be thrilled to welcome you home. Even your Aunt might break a smile.”
Liam nodded slowly. “Do you require an answer immediately, or might I contemplate the suggestion, and respond to you in due course?”
“Take your time, Dear Boy!” Edward replied, downing the rest of his coffee, though it must have been terribly hot. “Though, the sooner the better, so I know whether I am to disappoint the masses or continue with my arrangements. Naturally, you are welcome to invite those friends of yours, and any other acquaintances from the city who might delight in the fresh air up there.”
Liam smiled, grateful to have had some happy company to disperse the anger in his heart, after reading the scandal sheets. “Continue with your arrangements regardless. Even if I find I cannot attend, you ought to hold the ball. I would not have your reputation for exemplary gatherings being tarnished because of me.”
Edward chuckled. “I am exceedingly pleased to hear that, and I do hope you will decide to attend.” He stood sharply. “But now, I must depart, or I might be tempted to incite my wife’s wrath and remain in the embrace of London a while longer.”
“Give her my good wishes,” Liam urged, fully knowing that his aunt would not care for them. “And take care of yourself upon the road. I hear there have been unsavory happenings of late, and it would break my heart if I were to hear that anything had befallen you.” He stood and went around to his uncle’s side of the table, where they embraced warmly, as a father and son might.
“No cretins would dare to harm me, My Boy,” Edward assured. “So, do not fret, and I pray that I will see you soon.”
With that, he took off out of the door, as his comforting scent of peppermint and bergamot lingered in the air.
Feeling somewhat saddened by his uncle’s hasty departure, Liam had just returned to his seat when he jumped back up again and raced through the hallways to the front door. Wrenching it open, he ran down the steps and onto the street, hoping he had not acted too late. But Edward’s carriage was already gone.
I should have accepted immediately! This could not be more perfect if I had orchestrated it myself!
A ball in the North would be the ideal excuse to transport Nora and her family out of the city for a short time, at least until the dust settled on Lord Westleigh. Indeed, if Nora and her family needed to extend their stay at his Manor, Liam knew he would be only too happy to oblige them, even if that involved some awkward conversations with his aunt and uncle.
Although—
A chilling dagger of disquiet sliced through his anxious chest, for there would be several challenges to overcome. First, ensuring that Nora and her family would not have to endure another attack on the road north. Second, resolving his own fears relating to his family seat, and trying to push away the ghosts that haunted him and that house still. Third, coming up with a believable excuse for Nora being there, that would not find its way back to London and reveal Nora’s whereabouts to the one who sought vengeance.
“And the hardest of them all.” Liam tilted his head back and sighed. “I must convince Nora that this is in her best interests, when she will not even allow me entry into her home.”
Retreating back inside the house, he realized this called for another, more urgent, more insistent letter.
Chapter Twenty-One
Bored to tears by the same sight of her bedchamber, and desiring company, Nora threw back the coverlet and shuffled to the edge of the bed. Sunlight slithered in through the drapes, and the clock on the mantelpiece—an item she had been gifted by the giver of this house, and had never had the heart to dispose of—read two o’clock in the afternoon.
“I’ve become slovenly in my recuperation.” She chuckled to herself as she swung her legs down and braced her hands against the mattress to push herself upward.
