Page 71 of The Trouble With Dukes
Uncle kissed her forehead. “Perhaps you’re falling in love. Enjoy your evening at home.” He winked and set off down the steps at a brisk pace.
Megan remained in the doorway, waving her sisters off. Charlotte blew her a kiss and climbed into the coach. Beth twiddled her fingers in Megan’s direction.
“One has no privacy in this household,” Megan muttered.
The butler, a stalwart old fixture named Hodges, cleared his throat. “Miss Anwen has often remarked similarly, ma’am. Shall I have the kitchen send up a tea tray?”
“No, thank you, Hodges. I truly am quite fatigued. An early night will be the salvation of my week.” Or her sanity.
“I’ll bid you good evening, miss.”
Megan made her escape up the stairs at a dignified pace, when she would rather have taken the steps two at a time. Her bedroom beckoned, though in truth all this subterfuge was likely pointless. Hamish was not the type to climb to a lady’s balcony or indulge in clandestine trysts.
Megan loved that about him, loved how honorable he was—truly she did.
“Are they gone?” Anwen had opened her bedroom door a mere crack and spoken just above a whisper.
“They’re gone,” Megan said. “My feet ache. I hadn’t realized you were also remaining at home this evening.” Though Anwen was so naturally retiring, she’d probably keep to her rooms for the duration. “What excuse did you use?”
“My monthly,” Anwen said. “The merest allusion and Uncle Percy is striding from the room, and Aunt is serving the cordial. Then too, we had buckets of rain this afternoon, and I’m prone to colds.”
Which cousin had said the quiet ones bore constant watching? “This is your second monthly in recent weeks, Wenny.”
“The upheaval of changing households, the social whirl, the excitement of seeing our cousins,” Anwen said, opening the door enough to lean on the jamb. “It’s all quite daunting.”
Megan was desperate to return to her room, and yet, a revelation ought not to go unremarked. “You’re better at dissembling than I am. How could I not have realized this?”
Anwen twirled the end of her braid, a nervous habit she’d had since her hair had been cut short during a childhood fever.
“That’s not a compliment, Megs. I’m more desperate to protect my privacy is all. Were we playing piquet?”
Playing …?Oh.
“Yes, I think we were, until about half eleven in the library. You won, though not by much, then I took Lord Byron up to bed with me—so to speak.”
Anwen did not often smile, except at babies, puppies, kittens, and the boys at her favorite orphanage.
She smiled now. “Megs, the servants are in and out of the library all evening—tending the hearth, lighting lamps or dousing them. We were not in the library, and you never read in the evening because it makes your eyes hurt.”
Gracious days, lying was a complicated undertaking. “Piquet in your room, then,” Megan said. “And you did beat me.”
“Right. Until half eleven,” Anwen said, drawing back. “And Megs?”
“Yes?”
“I like your Scot. I like how he watches you. I like that his brother loves him fiercely. Murdoch is protective and respectful toward you, and he watches you the way Papa watches Mama.”
“I hadn’t noticed.” Hadn’t been able to see, in other words. “Thank you.”
Anwen closed the door without another word, though as Megan crossed the corridor to her own room, she wondered what else Anwen had noticed, and what else about her own sister Megan had missed.
She opened her sitting room door and tarried to bank the fire in the hearth. The servants would not intrude unless Megan rang the bell pull, though for all the urgency she’d felt to return to her room, she’d probably spend her evening alone.
Hamish’s sisters expected him to escort them to every function, and he was nothing if not dutiful. Then too, no engagement had been announced. An engaged couple was permitted a significant amount of latitude, but a couple merely courting …
It was one thing to retrieve letters by stealth, quite another to invade a ducal mansion by climbing over a young lady’s balcony.
Megan finished with the fire, and was ready to retire early, the better to enjoy Hamish’s company when he came to call in the morning. He’d said he’d come by, and he wasn’t the sort to break his word.
