Page 39 of A Damsel for the Wounded Earl
“Of course, of course,” Daniel said, hands lifted in appeasement. “There’s something else, too. I wouldn’t repeat it, as it sounds quite accusatory, but here it is. I went back to the pier and inspected the boats thoroughly, as well as the location where Miss Sinclair’s boat overturned. Having been given some time to think, she is now saying that her boat struck a hidden rock, or something like that. However, while there is a hidden rock in that area, it’s too well submerged to catch the bottom of a boat. An oar would reach it, and it would be possible to overturn a boat by shoving hard that way, but it could not happen by accident.”
A chill ran down Arthur’s spine. “What are you saying, then?”
Daniel’s gaze did not waver. “I think you know what I’m saying. Miss Sinclair may well have capsized her boat on purpose. If so, the natural follow-up question all but answers itself. Why would she do such a thing?”
Arthur bit his lower lip as his own words came back to him.
I doubt she’ll let anyone or anything get between her and her goals. Miranda is a determined woman, there is nothing she would not do to get what she wants.
Chapter Fifteen
One might have assumed that dinner would be a nervous, subdued affair, but in fact it was the opposite. Everybody seemed in excellent spirits, all talking about the excitement on the lake, and what a narrow escape Miss Sinclair had had.
Miranda herself appeared at the dinner table, to receive applause and congratulations on her bravery. She smiled shyly, blinking coyly all around. She looked properly pale, still beautiful, but visibly tired. She kept saying how weak she felt, how she could barely lift a hand, barely eat a thing.
“I should be dead at the bottom of the lake if it were not for my saviour,” she’d said, more than once, fluttering her eyelashes pointedly at Arthur.
He only smiled and said nothing.
“Lot of excitement today, eh?” Lord Vincent said, his voice low and sultry in Felicity’s ear. His breath smelled of alcohol already, and she wrinkled her nose.
“Miss Sinclair was lucky not to have drowned,” Felicity said coolly. “I’m glad she’s recovering.”
“Recovering? Oh, she’d have to be a fool to do that,” he laughed. “Recover, and let herself be ejected from the house she’s working so hard to get into? Please, Miss Thornhill. No, our little Miss Sinclair has gotten her feet under the table now. See how the ladies and her very own hostess are fluttering around her? Clever little miss, indeed.”
Despite herself, Felicity had to look. Miranda Sinclair was seated on a comfortable armchair, piled with blankets and pillows, her satin-slippered feet resting on a footstool.
She had a cup of tea in one hand and was shyly refusing a slice of cake with the other. Mrs. Langley was leaning over her, fluffing up a pillow and talking to her in a low voice, while the other ladies chirped and flitted around her, making sure everything was perfect and she was entirely comfortable.
Most of the gentlemen were looking.
Lord Lanwood included.
Felicity’s heart ached tightly. He was looking at Miss Sinclair with a strange expression on his face, shuttered and unreadable. Clearing her throat, she made herself look away.
“She’s had a nasty shock today,” Felicity said firmly. “And I don’t care to make fun of her now. She needs to rest.”
Lord Vincent chuckled again. He had a glass of what looked like brandy and was swilling the amber liquid round and round the glass, almost hypnotically. On cue, the bell rang for dinner. He threw it back in one gulp and set the glass aside.
“Come, sit with me, Miss Thornhill,” he said casually. “I’ll escort you into dinner.”
Her heart sank. How many times hadthathappened today – her heart just dropping to the soles of her boots? She was, of course, obliged to take his arm. People were filing through to the dining room in pairs, with a cluster of ladies around Miss Sinclair.
When they reached the dining room, all laid out for dinner, Felicity’s relief was immense when she saw that their seats were assigned. She had to bite back a smile at Lord Vincent’s sulky face upon seeing that he was stuck between Mr. and Mrs. Thornhill.
“Do excuse me,” she said, unsuccessfully hiding a smile. “I’d better find my seat.”
Felicity was pleasantly surprised to find that she was sitting near the head of the table. Mrs. Langley sat opposite at the bottom, and Lord Lanwood at the top, with Lucy one his right and Felicity on his left.
A little bewildered at getting the prime place, Felicity took her seat.
Dinner was served, with all the formalities and proprieties that it required, and it was a good long time before Felicity felt comfortable enough to actually look at Lord Lanwood.
“Areyourecovered?” she asked, keeping her voice low to match the genteel conversation going on in the room.
“More or less,” he said, flashing a wry smile. “We never finished out conversation, did we?”
Her heart hammered.
