Page 11 of The Nabob's Designing Daughter
Edme came down the steps wrapped in a heavy cloak and burdened with another.
“I could ask you the same question. Where are you going?”
“I’m joining Ann for a walk. She was in such a hurry to leave she left her cloak behind. Did you see her?”
Ann had been in a hurry to see Lovelace off.
There was no call for him to feel jealous, if that was what this was. And more than a few people thought a male physician didn’t belong at a lying in. What was the old wives saying?If the man comes, one will die.
“No,” he lied. “I’m going to go find a cup of tea and examine the castle’s water source.”
He took the cloak from her and tucked her hand over his arm and led her down the rest of the stairs.
“There you are.”
Ann halted and turned to see Edme, a dark blur in her cloak, approaching.
“What are we doing out at this ridiculous hour?” Edme asked. “I’ve brought your cloak. Did you see Mr. Lovelace off?”
Ann slipped the heavier garment around her shoulders. “I did. Dawn is not far away. Shall we follow the path to the stables?
“Why not?” Edme moved closer. “I’ve been thinking. Perhaps making Errol jealous—”
“Jealous?”
They’d had a long coze getting ready for bed the night before. Edme had teased her mercilessly about that scene in the garden when she’d fallen from the ladder.
“Errol doesn’t care for me. Or would it be for your sake to spare you a match with him?”
William had proposed that idea to Edme.
Edme waved a gloved hand, brushing off the question. “Cottingwith is the highest-ranking lord here until Hatherot arrives. He’s awfully dour, but perfect for the task, and in any case, you must give him due consideration. Everyone will expect it.”
Her father certainly would. And if Father thought she had Errol in her sights, she’d suffer endless scolds.
She blinked. Marriage to Errol. Oh, oh, oh. Her body heated and chilled remembering the feel of his muscled chest.
It wasn’t possible, not after Errol learned the truth, and it would be unthinkable to marry him without telling him she’d paid for his education.
“Don’t be a goose, Edme.”
Edme clutched Ann’s hands, smiling. “Doona worry.”
Outside, they kept to the carriage path, dodging puddles and muddy patches. Lights gleamed in the stables, and they spotted a tall figure talking with a groom. Lord Cottingwith called a greeting and came to join them.
Rain had dampened his coat, spotted his boots, and darkened the leather of his gloves, but he still made them a polite bow.
“You are wet, Lord Cottingwith,” Edme exclaimed. “Have you been up and about, already? Did you encounter raindrops or were they snowflakes?”
He paused a moment and looked down his nose at Edme. “No snowflakes, and only a few sprinkles,” he finally said.
He was a solemn one. “Have you been riding already, my lord?” Ann asked.
“In the dark?” Edme exclaimed.
“I was only in the paddock. My horse had a limp yesterday and I wanted to see how he fared after a night of rest.”
Another long moment passed while he again studied her cousin. “May I join you on your walk?”
