Page 23 of The Nabob's Designing Daughter
“Or he was behaving himself in front of my father.”
“Ye must tell your father this,” Edme said. “Though he is very handsome.”
“He is that,” Penelope said. “And clever enough to hold an intelligent conversation.”
“Did you know him before?” Ann asked.
“No. But I’ve met plenty of men like him. He’s rather like my late husband.” She paused with a faraway look. “We didn’t invite him, you know. He weaseled his way in by promising to support Andrew’s hunting endeavor. He’s an acquaintance of Warton. I suspect Warton mentioned the presence of a great heiress."
“So, Mr. Warton isn’t to be trusted either,” Ann said.
“Are all noblemen so deceptive?” Edme mused.
Penelope studied her toast. “Not Cottingwith, I think. Though one can’t be sure until one has them investigated.”
Edme’s color was rising. She glanced away, bit her tongue, and sent Ann a twinkling look. “And not Errol, either. Of course, he’s not a lord like the earl and marquess, nor a lord-in-waiting like Mr. Warton. He wants to work for a living. Da always trusted him and so do my brothers.”
“And there you have the advantage,” Penelope said. “You’ve known Dr. Robillard all your life and your brothers vouch for him. Though we don’t know what your brothers get up to when they’re away from the ladies.”
Edme giggled again and Ann forced a laugh. The thought of Errol getting up to anything with other women made her blood run cold and she suddenly felt sick.
“I’m finished, I think.” She excused herself and hurried out before she had to decide where she was going.
Deciding she needed fresh air, she hurried to her room, changed to her heavy boots, found her mantle, and fled down the lane, away from the stables where she might encounter the men who were hunting.
Halfway down, she saw a young boy racing up the lane.
“Rolly.” She hurried to meet him.
“M-miss,” he said huffing, his dirty cap askew. The tattered boots were far too big for him and deeply padded with dirty cloths.
“Catch your breath,” she said. “What is wrong?”
“It’s me mam. He’s walloped her. Kin ye come?’
The Gillespies croft was thirty minutes at least by carriage. The lad must have been running for nigh on two hours.
“Wait here.”
Keeping her fingers crossed the men were still out, she ran to the stables. Long minutes later, she yanked the lad up onto the gig beside her and they were off.
“Now then, is your da still at home?”
“Nay. He’s gone off to…” He swiped at his eyes.
To drink. Rolly didn’t have to say more. “I don’t have my medicines, but I’ll see what I can do.”
She would bring Maggie Gillespie back to the castle, if need be. She felt certain the duke wouldn’t mind.
And Errol could tend to her, if treating a crofter living in less than sanitary conditions wasn’t beneath him.
Penelope MacDonal handedaround cups of tea in Minny’s sitting room. “Where is Ann, Edme?” she asked. “I haven’t seen her since breakfast.”
“I don’t know. I thought she would be here with you, your grace,” Edme said. “She wasn’t in our room.”
Penelope exchanged a look with Minny. Ann had rushed from the breakfast room hours ago. “Andrew is back with Mr. Henderson. The others will be back from hunting soon. Has Dr. Robillard returned?”
A knock on the door tapped out a pattern she recognized. “Will you excuse me? Edme, take over here, please.”
