Page 86 of His Lordship's True Lady
Logic was trickling back into Hessian’s brain, and he resented it for the irritant it had become: The preferred approach to preventing conception was to keep one’s breeches buttoned.
“You’ll come back.” Lily spoke with assurance, and yet, her eyes held a question.
“I will return from Scotland, but that’s not enough, Lily. I must return with enough proof of Walter’s scheme to pry his fingers from your fortune and your future. By traveling north, I leave you to face a significant risk, for we have no guarantee Walter will wait another two weeks to see you wed to Oscar.”
Lily studied the cloth in Hessian’s hand, then flipped the covers up. “But that ceremony will not be valid.”
Hessian took the flannel behind the privacy screen rinsed it thoroughly, and wrung it far more tightly than the occasion warranted.
He came back to the bed and sat at Lily’s hip. “The ceremony will not be valid, but you must go through with it, lest Walter become suspicious that you are intent on exposing his malfeasance. And following a wedding, Oscar will expect a wedding night.”
The idea made Hessian ill, but to deny the possibility was to deny Lily time to plot against that fate.
She sat, back braced against the headboard, knees drawn up, covers tucked high. “Oscar would not survive such a wedding night, and then I’d be a felon in truth.”
“That’s one option,” Hessian said. “Not one I can recommend.”
Lily studied him, though the fire was dying and not much light remained. “You’ve been thinking about this.”
“I’ve been fretting about it.”Endlessly.“I have a few ideas.”
Lily scooted over, Hessian climbed in beside her, and they talked far into the night about ways to keep Lily safe, while Hessian was hundreds of miles away, searching for a means to set her free. He made love with her once more—withdrawing again—and then slipped out into the waning night after promising her that come fire, flood, plague, or pirates, he’d return to London.
And to her.
* * *
“I never suspected you of a devious streak,” Worth Kettering said. “You were always the fellow who insisted on citing the rules, even when we played cricket or got up a team for crew. You arrive on time, you never overstay your welcome. You reply to all correspondence within a week and pay your tithe to the penny, no matter how poor your harvest.”
Worth would also have said that Hessian was a firm believer in a good night’s sleep, and yet, his lordship looked far from rested in the dawn’s early light.
“What rule do I break by trading traveling coaches with you?” Hessian replied as the grooms loaded a trunk onto the back of the vehicle.
Jacaranda might have asked such a question. “The rule that says I’m the brother who has all the mad adventures, takes stupid risks, and rackets about the realm on short notice.”
Hessian accepted a leather satchel from the butler, who returned to the house after sparing Worth a nod. The only activity in the alley was from Hessian’s household, a quiet, purposeful procession of servants and goods from mews to house and back again.
“Walter Leggett spies,” Hessian said, rummaging in the satchel. “He watches Lily, her old governess, his own son, and he’s probably watching you and me, or he soon will be. Send my coach out to Trysting to fetch Yolanda, as I indicated on the schedule, and I will be much in your debt. The damned thing isn’t in here. Kendall, a moment.”
The footman scampered around from the back of the vehicle, leaving his compatriot to finish securing the trunk. “My lord?”
Footmen were to come in matched sets in the best households, and Kendall’s complexion would not match that of any other servant in Hessian’s employ. Worth noted this as another inconsistency between the man Hessian had become and the rather dull fellow Worth had decided he must be. The Earl of Grampion ought to observe society’s unwritten rules as well as those printed in the manuals of the sporting associations.
“I forgot a handwritten volume,” Hessian said to Kendall, “a journal, in the drawer of my bedside table. The book is marked with a year embossed on the cover and spine. Might you retrieve it for me?”
“Of course, my lord.” Kendall was off at a trot, while Hessian tossed the satchel into the traveling coach.
“About that schedule,” Worth said. “Will I have to hire Oscar Leggett in truth? From what I’ve observed, he hasn’t a thought for anything except getting drunk, chasing opera dancers, and getting into arrears at his club.”
“Such a waste of good tailoring would benefit enormously from seeing how hard you work,” Hessian said, flipping open a gold pocket watch then eyeing the gray sky. “You will look after Lily? Communicate regularly with Rosecroft? Look in on my staff?”
Another footman charged across the alley bearing a picnic basket that was stashed inside the coach.
“You think I work hard?”
“Incessantly, would be closer to the mark,” Hessian said, tucking his watch away. “I don’t suppose you’ve come across any more clues regarding Leggett’s finances?”
Worth took Hessian by the arm and led him a dozen steps from the coach. “He hasn’t a single marker out at any club I know of, not one. Nobody can recall seeing him at a charity do for the past two years, not even in the company of his niece. He attends social dinners, but he’s yet to host any this year.”
