Page 24 of My Lord, My Rogue
Bentley knocked at the study door, temporarily pausing the conversation within.
“Thank you, Bentley. Have you seen my daughter?”
“Not in the last hour, my lord.”
“Should you see her, please advise her I would have a word.”
“Yes, my lord.” She heard the butler back out of the room and close the door. A second later, he tapped on the small closet door.
How did he know? I am losing control over all of my life. She eased the door open a crack and saw the man standing there, his eyebrows slightly arched.
“My lady, your father wishes to speak to you soon,” he whispered conspiratorially. “And he just received a message from His Grace, the Duke of Lancaster.”
She started to speak, but the man only smiled, nodded, and returned to his post. “Thank you, Bentley,” she mumbled to the closed door. She had not realized until that moment how much she had missed the man about the house. Here, Randall had assumed those duties. But Bentley’s presence gave Randall leave to do other things and gave her a chance to resume that special relationship she had known with the butler since childhood—rather like an uncle.
“Violet, you have worn me down. Fine! I will do it, if only to protect my daughter’s interests. This missive makes me feel much better about things.”
“Good news?” her aunt persisted.
I can wait no longer. Honora eased from the room and tapped on the door of her father’s study, opening it. “Papa, Bentley mentioned you were looking for me.”
“Ah, yes, please join us, daughter. Your timing could not be better. I just received a document from the Court of the Chancery,” he said, grinning broadly and waving the document. “They have granted me guardianship of Oliver.” He pointed to another missive that accompanied it. “His Grace, the Duke of Lancaster, made sure we knew as soon as possible and took it upon himself to send it to us by messenger straight away.”
Visibly relieved, Honora blew out a deep breath as she sat down in the plush chair in front of his desk, suddenly exhausted. She was thankful that her mother had seen to the comfort of the office while also seeing to her husband’s needs. “Does this mean that we can come out of hiding?”
“My quick answer is ‘no,’ only because we do not know the new Marquess of Aster and he may appeal it, especially given the extreme persuasive powers of the dowager marchioness, your former mother-in-law. However, I am less worried about your attendance at this masked ball. I would still urge the utmost discretion. My feeling is that your return to Society should start small, not splashy.”
“I am not sure I am comfortable attending this, Papa.”
“The sisters have convinced me to attend this,” he said somberly, looking Aunt Violet’s way. “If you keep your face covered, I think you might enjoy yourself.”
Her aunt gave a satisfied look. “You will not regret this decision,” she added. “I have it on the best authority that Lord Willington will accompany his mother to the ball. I have told her we are bringing a long-lost niece, who has not attended such functions in some time and might feel comfortable with this one as it is masked.”
Leave it to her aunt to come up with that story! Nothing like hiding in plain view, as they say, Honora thought cynically. She had hoped to hear from Lord Willington, but had not these past two days. Perhaps soon—she hoped. “Fine. I will go, since you and Mama are going. Bridget and Mrs. Hadley will be here for Oliver and Riggs. My goodness! He adores that puppy. The two are inseparable.”
Honora forced a thin smile. “I believe I will take a small mid-day meal in the nursery with Oliver and Mrs. Hadley, while he eats his noon-meal. I will ask Cook to prepare extra. Would anyone like to join us?”
“I would love that, my dear. Let me tell your mother what we are doing, and I will speak to Cook.” Her father dipped his head in acknowledgment.
“Thank you, Papa.”
Aunt Violet stayed behind. “I do not want to make you do something you would rather not, my dear. If you truly do not want to go, I will make our excuses.”
“I appreciate you provided me the choice, Aunt Violet. These last few days have me a bit discomfited.”
“How so? Truly, I am only trying to help.”
“It is not really you, Aunt. You know how much I treasure you. ’Tis just my life has been isolated these past years and I find myself grappling with changes coming quickly.”
“I understand. I had not considered those feelings, and I am very sorry.”
Aunt Violet rarely backed off something when she felt strongly—it was one reason she loved her so—yet she just had. “No. Mayhap you are right. And Mama is undoubtedly excited about seeing the queen. Given the news we have just received, I feel more hopeful. His Grace would have explained my existence to the prince, who it appears, still encouraged the court in our favor.” Feeling much lighter, she put her arm through her aunt’s and led her toward the parlor to find Mama.
Bentley intercepted them. “My ladies. A messenger just delivered this for you, Lady Aster,” he said extending the silver salver. “He awaits your reply.”
Honora read the missive quickly. “Tell him ‘yes.’ I will be ready at two of the clock, as he requests.”
“Yes, my lady.” Bentley gave a small smile and returned to deliver the message.
