Page 111 of The Laird’s Lost Wife

“You may call on me again, Mrs. Spencer,” Lady Pilbury said mildly. “But without your sister and cousin, I’m afraid.”

Mrs. Spencer swallowed. She bobbed a quick curtsey, threw a curious glance at Daphne, then scuttled off after the others.

Silence ensued, lasting for a few minutes, before Daphne broke it.

“Thank ye,” she said quietly.

“Oh, don’t thank me, dear,” Lady Pilbury sniffed. “I don’t know how they had the gall. Calling Willow a thing. Mind you, I said all of that for them as well as you, as I was afraid you would strangle Lady Tollerhampton with your bare hands.”

Daphne gave a surprised huff of laughter. “So was I, in truth.”

“Well, they’re gone now, and I doubt they’ll return. I’m glad of it. In the meantime, I might as well tell you that Mrs. Spencer was right. She did hear carriage wheels on the driveway. We have a guest.”

Daphne swallowed, chewing on her lower lip. “A guest?”

Lady Pilbury met her eyes. “You can guess who it is, I’m sure.”

“I… I daenae ken.”

“Hm. Well, the governess has Willow in the library. I shall stay out here, I think. It’s a fine day. The guest, if you care to meet him, will be in the parlor. It’s a quiet room, as you know, nice and private. You might even bolt the door from the inside, if you would rather not be disturbed. The choice, of course, is entirely yours.”

Daphne said nothing for a long moment. She sat still, staring at Lady Pilbury. The woman smiled mildly back, sipping her tea.

Daphne’s heart thundered in her chest, louder and louder until it was all she could hear in her ears.

“Is it… Is it him?” she managed.

Lady Pilbury leaned forward and picked up a biscuit from the plate. “Why, who else could it be?”

A few more minutes passed. When she felt that she had her strength back, Daphne rose shakily to her feet. She smoothed down the front of her bodice with trembling hands and glanced down at Lady Pilbury.

“Is it wise?” she wondered aloud. “Should I talk to him?”

The older woman sighed. “As I said, the choice is yours. But he did say that he wouldn’t go until you talked to him. Make of that what you will.”

Daphne shifted her weight from foot to foot. “Then I… I had better go, nay?”

“Indeed.”

“But… But then he might weaken me resolve.”

“Now, this isn’t like you, my dear. You’re usually very decisive. I tell you what. Let’s make this simpler. Would you run inside and collect my book for me? I quite fancy reading out here.”

Daphne exhaled. “Of course. Where is it?”

Lady Pilbury gave a placid smile. “Why, in the parlor, of course.”

Daphne walked quickly across the lawn and into the cool shade of the terrace. From there, she stepped past the footmen and into the house. Through the hall she went, past the butler who smiled distantly with a tray of cake in his hand that was probably going outside.

And then she found herself outside the parlor door. She squared her shoulders, eyeing the door as if it had personally wronged her. Then she drew in a deep breath, steeled herself, and stepped inside.

CHAPTER 26

Hunter eyed a large, stuffed bird on the mantelpiece. It had probably been a pheasant once, but the stuffing had been done very badly, and now the bird looked more like… well, more like a chicken, if he was being honest.

All in all, Lady Pilbury’s parlor looked exactly how he’d imagined an English lady’s parlor to be. She’d assured him, as she showed him in here, that it was the good parlor, as if there was a sub-par parlor waiting somewhere for less illustrious guests.

Knowing the English aristocracy, there probably was.