Page 29 of The Ambiguous Enigma of the Hunted Lady
“Hmph.” Kenneth snorted. “I suppose.”
“Come on then, out with it.”
“Well alright.” Kenneth threw one hand up in a sign of surrender. “I was exiting my coach along St. James’s Square, I meant to meet the Marquess at his social club.”
“Yes, I also received an invitation.”
“Right then.” Kenneth bobbed his head. “You know the shallow steps there, leading up to his parlor?”
“Indeed.” Cornelius nodded.
“Well, I am about to put my foot up on the stoop when this woman blindsides me from around the corner, near knocking me clear over, off the step. The Marquess was there as well, watching it all, you should have seen how red his face was.”
“He does grow awfully flush.”
“Then a group of street thugs, some five or six, come running after her. Nearly take me and the Marquess down once again. They were hollering after her, and I could tell that she was in danger, you see. I followed them to an alleyway where I found them beating on the poor woman. I did what I could to intervene, and as I helped the woman to my coach, for she could barely stand you see, the whole of St. James’s Square was gathered around to make their own assumptions.”
“And what of the woman? Did she recover?”
“She is still healing, but she should recover fully.”
“She is at an infirmary in London, I assume?”
“Heavens no, she is at my estate.”
“Your estate?” his uncle raised his eyebrows curiously. “You see, this is exactly the behavior that generates rumors.”
“She was half dead, Uncle, I felt responsible for her safety.”
“I do not doubt your intentions.” Cornelius consoled him. “I only mean that plenty would ask why she was not brought to hospital. It would seem a logical course of action, would it not?”
“I suppose.” Kenneth chewed his lip. “But in all honesty the thought never crossed my mind.”
“No, I expect not.” Cornelius smiled, and the two of them shared a moment of laughter. “Then I shall have to meet her when we return.”
“Of course, Uncle.”
“Grouse!” Cornelius shouted suddenly and let loose a shotgun blast.
“Fine shot!” Kenneth beamed. He admired the marksmanship, but he was jealous for not having caught the first grouse of the season.
After the early morning had passed into midday, the pair made back to their horses and took the easy ride back to the Worthington estate. They sprang through the entryway and took up their positions in the mud room. They eagerly pulled at their muddy boots, boasting four dead birds over their shotguns, a footman approached Cornelius with a letter atop a silver serving tray.
“This arrived for you from London, Lord Wilson,” the footman said, extending the tray.
“When did it arrive?” Cornelius took the envelope and looked over the seal before cracking open the wax.
“Perhaps an hour ago, My Lord,” the footman answered.
“What is it?” Kenneth asked, handing the birds off to a servant with his shotgun and riding coat.
“Business.” Cornelius muttered, glancing over the document.
“With whom?” The Duke was checking himself in the hallway mirror, ensuring his clothes were once again straight and tidy.
“An issue with deposits.” his uncle became visibly agitated. He folded the slip of paper and tucked it into his waistcoat pocket. “I must return to London immediately.”
“I thought that we would journey there tomorrow, together.” Kenneth said, startled by the sudden news.
