Page 51 of Better Off Wed

Miss Godfrey did not look reassured, but she nodded. “I will, my lord.”

He bowed and let her pass, then made his way to the landing and out onto the corridor. All was quiet when he stopped beside the door to the blue room. After a moment’s hesitation, he opened it.

Lady Thornton and Mr. Phelps had gone. Laura still sat sideways on the sofa, both legs stretched across the cushions, her skirts carefully arranged so that her injured ankle did not show, her reticule nestled in her lap. Her eyes appeared to be closed, and she was dabbing at the end of her pink nose with her handkerchief. Crying. Was her pain so great, then? Had he entered into his part with too much enthusiasm and upset her in earnest?

The click of the door latch alerted her to his presence. Her eyes popped open, red and watery, but she crumpled the handkerchief in the palm of one hand and pressed a finger to her lips, then pointed to the dressing room. Through the open doorway he could hear various rummaging noises, accompanied by a whistled tune.

“Dinah,” Laura mouthed, then motioned him closer.

“Are you all right?” His face, he knew, must make his question as plain as the movement of his lips.

She favored him with a watery smile and revealed a silver vinaigrette in her hand, half hidden by the handkerchief. “Lady Thornton insisted on giving me her smelling salts. I think”—amusement twitched about her lips, even as her eyes continued to stream tears—“I think I’ve singed the hairs in my nose.”

Relief rushed from his lungs in the form of a silent laugh.

“I can’t seem to find your bonnet, Lady Sterling,” Dinah called from the other room.

Laura waggled her fingers, shooing him toward the door. “Make an entrance, Lord Sterling” was her silent demand.

He nodded and stepped back, silently opening the door and then shutting it firmly. “Well, madam. The carriage has been ordered. You may dispense with the tears—they’ll earn you no sympathy from me.”

Dinah appeared in the doorway and gave him a bold stare before dipping into the shallowest of curtsies. “Milord.”

“Are the bags ready?”

“Aye, milord. All set, ’cepting her ladyship’s bonnet.”

“It was ruined on the journey.” Laura sniffled. “I left it and my gloves behind in that dreary little pub.”

That answer earned him another glare from the maid, as if she suspected he were somehow responsible for the loss. “Well, then. That’s that.” Her voice softened as she focused once more on Laura. “Be there anythin’ else, milady?”

Laura blew her nose and then shook her head. “No, Dinah,” she said in a quiet, ragged voice. “Thank you for your many kindnesses. I shall not forget them.”

“Of course, milady.” She gathered up their bags, one in each hand, and walked toward the door, casting a chary glance his way as she passed.

“I’ve spoken to Thornton,” Jeremy said to Laura, pretending to ignore the maid. “He’s invited me to return, once I’ve delivered you home, and I intend to. Why should I not enjoy...?” He spoke louder than necessary until he felt certain Dinah was out of earshot. “Well.” He lowered his voice to its normal tone and stepped closer to Laura, crouching down beside the sofa. “That was an adventure. We’ve certainly given them lots to talk about after we’re gone.”

“Distraction is the watchword,” she reminded him. “I hated to give you such a despicable part to play. I did not think it in your nature. But you acquitted yourself well.” The slightest uncertainty in her voice made him wonder whether he had played the part a little too convincingly.

“I think you mean, I acquitted myself terribly. I have heard actors claim that the villain’s role is always the most enjoyable to perform, but—” He gave a shiver of distaste. “I don’t think Dinah will ever forgive me, particularly not if she learns of the things I said to you earlier.”

Laura’s lips twisted with a wry smile of satisfaction. “Which I have no doubt she will, at the rate word seems to travel around Thornton Hall.” Then her expression shifted again, and the hint of approval left her eyes. “She thought you handsome and charming from the first. When you apologized to her this morning, you gave her a spark of hope that some gentlemen were different from those she’s had the misfortune to know.” She dropped her gaze and fiddled with the vinaigrette. “Skepticism and wariness will serve her better.”

“Men aren’t to be trusted, you mean?”

She drew a pleat in the damp handkerchief, between her first and second fingers. “I think you already know the answer. Sometimes we women have little choice but to trust, of course. But it’s not easy to know which men deserve that honor…and which ones may be simply acting a part. Better to assume the worst.” Before he could form a reply, knowing she was not wrong and reluctant to defend himself or anyone else, she shook off her grimness and offered him a weak smile. “She’ll likely come around again where you’re concerned, though, when you clap Thornton in irons and save her sister from an ignoble fate.”

“Is that all I must do?” He slapped his hands against his thighs with considerably more heartiness than he felt and pushed himself to standing. “Well, I’d best get to it, then. You are ready?”

She nodded and swung her legs over the side of the sofa, curling the fingers of one hand around the drawstring of her reticule and reaching up with the other for him to help her rise. “Mr. Phelps bound the ankle again, so it feels stronger. I think I can walk, so long as you are willing to go slow.”

He understood how highly she valued her independence. But he also understood the importance of haste. “Would it not be more in keeping for the dastardly Lord Sterling to sling you over his shoulder and toss you into the coach?” he teased.

“You may be right,” she conceded with a laugh. “But I’ll settle for being carried down in the regular way. One last time.”

One last time. One final excuse to gather her in his arms and hold her close, to behave as if she really were his wife. He bowed over her outstretched hand. “It would be my pleasure, Lady Sterling.”

Chapter 15