Page 10 of Lady Beast's Bridegroom
Miss Weatherall nodded, and the women treated him to identical glares, their scorn rendering their features ugly.
Peter bowed. “I shall bother you no more. I will see myself out.” He was a fool to expect anyone who was friends with his stepmother to be of any help.
An hour had passed, and he was no nearer to finding shelter for his sisters for the night. In near despair, he tried to think of some other person in London with whom he was well enough acquainted to ask them the favor of a bed.
Chapter Four
Arial was crossingthe landing above the entrance hall on her way to the dining room when the door knocker sounded. She paused to watch as Barlowe made his way to the door.Whomever could it be?Her breath caught at the thought that Josiah might have tracked her to London, then released in a sigh when her butler stepped back and allowed the caller to enter.
Not Josiah. This caller was taller, and the hair disclosed when he removed his hat was fair while Josiah’s was dark.
Whatever he said must have convinced Barlowe to at least accept the calling card he was holding out, for her man took it and gestured towards the little parlor. Arial called out before the butler could come in search of her.
“What is it, Barlowe?”
Both men looked up at her call, and she stopped breathing again. The gentleman was beautiful, in an entirely masculine fashion—every line of his face sculpted to perfection, his blue eyes framed in lashes that were surprisingly dark, given that his hair glinted gold in the light from her candles.
And she knew him. He was a foot taller than he’d been at thirteen, with broad shoulders she could swear owed nothing to his overcoat, but his eyes had not changed. Why was Peter Ransome calling on her some eighteen hours before their appointment?
“Lord Ransome begs a moment of your time, Lady Arial,” the butler said. “A matter of some urgency, he says.”
Peter bowed. “My apologies for bursting in on you like this, my lady. But I need help, and I do not know where else to turn.”
Arial’s mind raced. Bailiffs at his heels? A gambling debt? An angry lover? Was she now to find the flaws that Beau Ransome hid beneath his perfect skin?Well. Better get it over with, then.She began to descend the stairs. “Tell someone to let Miss Tulloch know that I am delayed, please, Barlowe.”
“Thank you.” Peter stepped forward to offer her his arm. His left arm, of course, so he was on her blind side. Arial was struck with a longing for her father, the only other man to ever escort her in such a fashion. Every evening, from the day of her fifteenth birthday, they would meet in the parlor, and he would offer her his arm to conduct her into dinner. Papa had broken with convention and used his right arm so she could see him without turning her head past her shoulder.
This was another experience entirely, and not just because he was on her blind side. They reached the door to the small parlor, and she dropped his arm to step inside, still analyzing the difference. He was taller than Papa. That was part of it. Arial was used to looking men in the eye or looking down at them. Only a couple of her footmen, and footmen were usually tall, were an inch or two taller than her. One of Cousin Josiah’s complaints against her was that she was taller than he was. “Unnaturally large for a woman,” was the way he put it.
Perhaps Peter’s height explained the physical sensations that walking on his arm gave her. Unnaturally hot. Quivery. Slightly breathless.
Distance was helping. She took a seat and waved him to another. A footman scurried in to light the room’s wall sconces then took up station in the corner. Sent by Barlowe, no doubt, toprotect the mistress of the house should the visitor prove to have nefarious intent.
“Thank you for seeing me, Lady Arial,” Peter said. “May I express my sincere condolences on the death of your father? I remember him well. He was a fine man.”
Arial nodded. “He was. I miss him every day. I was sorry to hear of your loss, as well, Lord Ransome. Your father was very kind to me when I was a child.” She wasn’t sure what else to say, when that same father had left Peter in such a difficult situation.
Peter inclined his head. He was looking her in the eye, showing no reaction to the fine scars on her chin and forehead and the half-mask that hid the right side of her face.
Arial waited for him to introduce the reason for his call. He said nothing, but his fine eyebrows drew together as he frowned. He opened his mouth and then shut it again. Arial, conscious of her companion waiting upstairs, decided to prompt him.
“Did you call to speak of my father, Lord Ransome? Or is this about our appointment tomorrow?”
“I beg your pardon, my lady.” Peter grimaced. “I am imposing, calling at this hour and without an invitation. But I could not think of anyone else in London I could ask… I am afraid I am here to beg a favor. Of course, if you turn me out, you are well within your rights. You barely know me, and I will understand if you do not feel able to help.” He ran out of words again, spreading his hands and clenching them again as if reaching out for a way to communicate what he wanted.
“I will not turn you away without listening to your request,” Arial assured him. For the sake of appeasing her curiosity if nothing else.
“Please say ‘no’ if it will inconvenience you—but truly, they are very well-behaved. One might say unnaturally so. And their governess is with them, of course. They will be no trouble, I assure you, and tomorrow, when my solicitor’s office opens, Iwill be able to make other arrangements, I hope.” He looked at her, pleading with his eyes.
Arial blinked and gave her head a small shake, but she still could not make sense of what he was asking. “I am sorry. I don’t understand. Who are very well-behaved, and what is it that you want me to do?”
Peter spread his hands again, a helpless gesture that somehow made him all the more appealing. “I did not explain, did I? I am sorry. I do not know whether I am on my head or my heels. My lady, I arrived back at my hotel this evening to find that my two young sisters and their governess had run away and come to find me.”
He paused, as if expecting Arial to comment. Run away? But they are well-behaved? Arial did not know what to think, though her heart went out to Peter, who was clearly out of his depth. She managed a faint, “How enterprising.”
“I should explain that my stepmother was to blame, and Miss Pettigrew did the right thing.”
The former Mrs. Turner.Arial wondered about the details, but it must have been bad to send a governess fleeing with her charges.
