Page 5 of Lord Trafford's Folly
At the back, Julius stood appalled—dumbfounded—before casting his anxious gaze down to stroke through his mop of wheat curls. A moment later, he threw up his hands in defeat. There was nothing he could do to intercede.
“It’s Moreland’s heir!” The impasse was broken when Lady Astley, an older peeress with graying blonde hair and critical tendencies, shrieked. Several guests flinched at the volume.
“Is that Miss Smythe?” asked Lord Astley, whom she was holding by the arm.
Julius cleared his throat, trying to think how to assist Abbott in his hour of need. “I am sure it is not what we think. Lord Abbott is a nobleman of the highest order.”
Abbott stared at Julius, accomplices in their diabolical invasion of this ball to investigate the host. The thought of the innocent Miss Smythe being destroyed thus was incomprehensible. What had caper-brained Abbott been thinking?
Even as Julius’s thoughts raced, he could observe Abbott considering his limited options as he held Julius’s gaze over the heads of the crowd between them. Julius stared back, stricken as he comprehended what the man was about to do. He shook his head, gesturing to stay Abbott from his announcement?—
“I just offered for Miss Smythe’s hand in marriage … and she accepted.”
Bloody hell!
Lord Snarling was sure to give Julius grief over this.
AUGUST 14, 1821
Audrey Gideon lifted the colorful starling from the terrace paving, the bird’s iridescent feathers flashing in the bright light. It was a warm afternoon; the cheerful sun shined upon the secluded garden of Lord Stirling’s London townhouse.
The little bird had flown into one of the many sparkling windows facing the garden and fallen to the masonry. Wishing to assess the starling’s condition, Audrey wrapped it with care in her lace handkerchief to prevent it from panic-flapping its wings into further injury. She walked over to a stone bench set close to the table upon which sat her valise.
Having taken her seat, she raised the fragile creature to eye level and released a wing from within the linen folds while using a gentle fingertip to hold the appendage in place.
It was as she had suspected. The poor bird had broken it, but the damage did not seem too drastic. Fortunately, Audrey had brought her leather valise down with her to take inventory. Between its contents and the shrubbery growing against the terrace balustrade, she ought to have all she needed to treat the creature and set its wing.
Audrey exhaled deeply, pleased to have something useful to do. Since her father, Dr. John Gideon, had died, Audrey had been living under the roof of Lord Stirling, her father’s close friend. London had proved boring. All she could think of was returning home to Stirling once she reached her majority. There she would be back in the village where she had grown up and be able to return to doing what she loved—assisting the villagers with their ailments.
In the meantime, while she was stuck in the tumultuous city of the loud and unwashed, it would be a blessed respite to treat the helpless creature trembling in her hands as a reminder of better days when she had assisted her father.
Terse voices wafted out the nearby terrace doors, and Audrey winced when she realized she was seated near Lord Stirling’s study.
“Lady Hays has informed me of your antics last evening with Moreland’s heir.”
“Tsk, tsk. So formal.Aunty Gertrudeinformed you of my antics last evening.”
It was no secret that Lord Julius Trafford and the Earl of Stirling did not get along. Lord Trafford was a flippant dandy, while Lord Stirling was a solemn and traditional gentleman who paid the utmost mind to propriety. Audrey knew this because she had petitioned the earl several times to allow her to returnto the village, but he insisted she remain in Town to protect her reputation. Because she was still considered a minor in the eyes of the law, she had not much choice but to concede until she reached her majority.
Audrey grimaced. Casting about, she attempted to find a new location to sit and do her work upon the starling’s wing. Nobles led such privileged and impractical lives, far removed from the pragmatism of ordinary people. It was sure to be a ridiculous squabble about inconsequential issues, and it would be awkward indeed to eavesdrop on the argument between father and son.
Especially if one of them catches sight of me!
There was no other suitable location on the terrace. Looking down, Audrey considered her options. The bird was in need of assistance. Attempting to move both her things and the bird would be difficult. If her father were here to advise her, she knew what he would say.
“The needs of the patient outweigh any other considerations.”
Shaking her head, Audrey reached a decision. The starling’s needs superseded etiquette. Trauma would lead to further injury and a longer recovery time for the wing to mend. She must treat the bird with urgency and ignore the quarrel within.
Being summonedto Lord Snarling’s study always provoked a sense of wrathful dread in the pit of Julius’s stomach, but he fought the urge to twist his signet ring. Lord Snarling had sharp eyes and would note the sign of distress in Julius’s demeanor, so with the careful deliberation of a jungle cat stalking his prey, he relaxed his body into a languid position and watched his father watching him.
It had been the better part of two decades since Lord Stirling had spent meaningful time with Julius. In those days, his father had possessed a ready smile and had made time for his kin. But the earl of today was a reserved man who had no time for petty considerations such as family. He had important duties to the Crown to take care of, both here and on the Continent.
“Why did you attend the Smythe ball without an invitation?”
“I wished to do so, so I did.”
“Why were you in the company of such a scoundrel?”
