“I’m not sure what to say,” she said truthfully.
Her father nodded.
“I understand that well, darling,” he said. “I was as surprised as you when he suggested it. But he made a good point. The two of you can get to know each other better. Surely, that will make for a better marriage.”
Martha nodded, though she didn’t agree with what her father said.
“Is that all?” she asked. “I was just going to paint when you summoned me.”
Her father gave her a sheepish smile and shook his head.
“You may go paint, if you like,” he said. “But Lord Billington will be calling on you today. I believe he wishes to officially offer courtship to you. Just keep that in mind if you start a new painting.”
Martha’s heart did sink then. The very thought of seeing the viscount again unsettled her, and her stomach began flipping again. Was he truly interested in marrying her? Why else would he want a courtship, and insist on making it official with her? She had hoped that she could find a way out of the arrangement. But it was starting to look like that would never be possible.
Chapter Nine
The pounding headache assaulted Albert the second he opened his eyes. He tried to sit up, having no immediate recollection of the night before. But dizziness accompanied the pain in his head, and he had to settle back into the pillow. He closed his eyes, feeling around with his hands to try to ascertain what he was lying on while he composed himself. He realized he was on a bed, and he slowly opened his eyes once more.
The room was unfamiliar to him, which caused him immediate distress. He retraced his steps from the day before, memories coming back to him piece by piece. He recalled his father’s and his conversation with the viscount about marrying Miss Elwood, and the tense carriage ride home with his father. Then, he remembered that he went to Neil’s house, rather than following his father inside his own home. And then…
I drank too much with Neil,he realized as a wave of nausea washed over him. He nestled back into the pillow as he waited for the sick feeling to pass. He cursed himself, wondering how he let himself get so out of hand. He enjoyed the occasional glass of whiskey, and he almost always partook in drinks offered to him by other gentlemen after dinners and parties, and whenever he had meetings with them. But he never overindulged, apart from the night that Cordelia had left him.
He was lamenting his choices and trying to remember the conversation he had with Neil the night before when there was a knocking on the door to what he now understood was the guest bedchambers in Neil’s home. He groaned, dragging himself out of bed, steadying himself before crossing the room and heading to the door. He hoped it wasn’t Neil, angry with him for his behavior the night before.
To his surprise, it was Daniel, holding a neatly folded stack of clothing. His own tan suit, in fact. The valet gave him a wry but warm smile.
“Good morning, Lord Billington,” he said, bowing. His tone held a tinge of amusement, but he kept his voice blessedly low.
Albert motioned for him to enter, dread filling him.
“How did you know that I was here?” he asked.
The valet gave him a secret smile.
“Mr. Smith sent word to the manor that you’d be in need of some clean clothes,” he said.
Albert nodded, swallowing.
“Does Father know about this?” he asked. He wasn’t sure why the idea bothered him. But suddenly, he hated the thought of his father even suspecting that he’d spent the evening drinking.
Daniel gave Albert another smile as he began unfolding the clothes.
“Mr. Smith sent a note, with express instructions for it to be delivered straight to me,” he said. “As far as any of your father’s servants know, Mr. and Mrs. Smith asked you to join them for breakfast this morning, and you simply stayed overnight to taken them up on the invitation.”
Albert relaxed, nodding. Neil couldn’t be too angry with him if he had gone to such great lengths to protect his reputation with his family. And while his father would still likely not be happy that he didn’t stay home to listen to more of his lectures, his parents at least wouldn’t know that he had drank far too much the night before.
“Thank you, Daniel,” he said, sincerely. He felt grateful to his friend and valet. He knew he could have never faced his parents, looking as dishevelled as he did, in clothes that told the story of a drink from the previous night that had splashed somewhere on him and dried overnight. His parents would have known what he had really been up to if he had.
The valet bowed again, giving him another smile.
“For what?” he asked, giving Albert a knowing look. “I simply told the truth as I know it to be.”
Albert chuckled, leading his valet to the dressing partition.
“And that’s why I’m thanking you,” he said.
A short time later, Albert was dressed in his tan suit, cream-colored shirt and brown boots. Daniel cleaned and combed his messy blond hair while Albert let a cold, wet cloth remove much of the swelling and redness from his eyes.
