“While Mr. Northcutt and I were speaking with the housekeeper,”—this was the part he didn’t want to admit—“a deafening crash echoed down the hallway.”
Roxburghe stroked his chin. “What caused the crash?”
“A vase.”
“And where was this vase?”
“Scattered in pieces across the library, which was vacant when the three of us arrived.” Levi fell silent, uncertain whether Roxburghe would believe the fantastical story or whether his friend would think him touched in the head.
“That horrific blue one in the corner?”
Levi nodded once.
“For once, I agree with Mr. Philbert.” The corner of his mouth pulling, Roxburghe settled back on his bench.
“It was a family heirloom!”
“That doesn’t change its lack of beauty.” Roxburghe gestured toward the darkening street. “Is your driver taking the slow route?”
Levi scowled at him. “We would’ve arrived prior to nightfall if I hadn’t needed to drag you from Miss Rowe’s residence.”
“For someone who doesn’t want to spend a significant amount of time in any woman’s company, I do frequently find you at Miss Rowe’s house.” Folding his hands together, Roxburghe leveled his gaze with Levi. “Is there anything else you wish to reveal to me?”
No! He did not. He most certainly did not want to discuss the heat that flowed through his body when he spied Miss Rowe across the room or how he longed to inhale the scent of lily of the valley that clung to her skin, to brush his fingers through her unusual henna-colored hair, to taste her sweet lips…
“It is merely because you,” Levi said, forcing a reproachful tone into his voice, “are always there.”
Roxburghe grinned, accepting Levi’s allegation. “My presence has received no complaints from my fiancée, her sister, or Miss Rowe.”
“Has mine?” Levi frowned, perturbed by the thought of his visit causing Miss Rowe displeasure.
“Not that I’ve heard, but I’m certain you’ll have time to irritate all three ladies before the month is through.” Roxburghe laughed.
Before Levi could respond, the coach door ripped open, and a frigid gust of wind galloped into the cabin, coating them in goosebumps.
Beaufort poked his cherubic face into the carriage, his cheeks flushing with the warmth of at least two strong drinks. “I’m pleased to see you weren’t set upon by wild dogs.”
“Was that a concern?” Levi asked, rising and, after Beaufort stepped away from the door, descending from the coach.
“Merely an amusement to pass the time.” Beaufort, clad in only a black waistcoat, having apparently forgotten his great coat inside, crossed his arms over his chest and shivered. “However, I’m grateful I didn’t need to seek you farther than your coach.”
“Where was your destination?” Roxburghe asked, climbing from the carriage.
“I had none.” Exhaling a visible breath, Beaufort grimaced. “My task was to find you, nothing more.”
Levi clapped an arm around Beaufort’s trembling shoulders and escorted him toward the house. “Then it is fortunate you happened upon us so quickly, as you might have frozen to death in your current state of undress.”
Glancing down at his waistcoat, Beaufort chuckled. “Ah. It appears I don’t need to lodge a complaint with my tailor.”
They were met at the door by Mansfield, who yanked it open the moment Levi set his foot upon the doorstep, his dark brown eyes skating over Beaufort’s shivering form and lack of outerwear.
“I’m so pleased you decided to join us.” Mansfield’s gravelly voice rumbled across the grounds. “We thought you may have forgotten the way home.”
“Lennox delayed our return,” Roxburghe said, appearing behind Beaufort and ushering them into the house.
“I can only think of one reason to avoid the comfort of my own bed, and that is for a woman’s.” Mansfield bent his head toward Roxburghe and lowered his voice. “Is your affliction contagious?”
“If you recall, it was Grisham’s condition first,” Roxburghe replied with a snicker. “And yes, I believe the emotion is infectious.”
