Page 21 of Her Summer Duke

Chapter Nine

Lord Percy Harrington sat in the parlour at Bradbury Crescent, waiting for Lady Margaret to come down the stairs. Every now and again, he would cast a glance through the open door to where the bottom of the stairs could be seen, in the hope that he would see her gliding down them, but it had been nearly an hour and Lady Margaret still had not appeared. He put his pocket watch away, reasoning with himself that it did no good to pine about her tardiness, for after all, he was here, she had agreed to see him, and that should suffice.

But then again, he had heard rumour that Lady Margaret had had a tête-à-tête with Saltonbury in the middle of the night, with chaperone, of course, but that she had almost died as a result of that night’s events. No one seemed to be clear on exactly what those events were, but the drift of the gossip was that now Lady Margaret was perhaps considering all suitors for her hand, which obviously included him. He smiled smugly. The smile only lasted a moment, as he remembered the other side of the gossip – there were some who insisted that she still loved Saltonbury.

Percy also took heart from the fact that Lady Mantrell had agreed with his suggestion that they should take a holiday in Brighton, and allow him to provide the transport to get them there. Lady Mantrell was obviously excited by the whole idea, now that she had committed to it, and she had decided that she would allow Lady Margaret to invite her cousin, Lady Phoebe, whilst she, herself, would invite two of her own personal friends. Her stated reasoning was that one could speak only so long with empty-headed youth before conversation of substance would be craved.

At last, he heard footsteps on the stairs and directed his attention to the sound. Lady Margaret was indeed descending with her maid trailing behind her. She looked even more striking than ever, with her reddish hair parted and pulled to the side of her face in a cascade of soft spiral curls secured high on her head by a quite fashionably large yellow bow. Her gown also had a lovely yellow sash to match the bow. Percy caught his breath and held it until her slippered foot touched the bottom stair. He rose, then his voice boomed out across the hall.

“Lady Margaret, may I say that you look absolutely, absolutely…”

He choked on his own tongue, resulting in a coughing spell, and had to extract his handkerchief from his pocket to cover his mouth. Lady Margaret simply waited for him to recover, motioning for her maid to sit across the room from them.

“Oh, do please excuse me.”

Percy continued to cough into his handkerchief.

Her eyebrows raised in mock suspicion, “Lord Percy, are you ill?”

He shook his head in silence as he tried to regain his composure. She offered her gloved hand. He took it and without thinking, brought it to his lips.

“Lady Margaret, you look absolutely stunning.”

She placed her hand lightly on his sleeve as he led her to the settee.

“Would you like a glass of port, Lord Percy? It might assist in what ails you.”

“Oh, no, I am quite of good health, I assure you.”

“No, you will have no port?”

“Yes, yes, a glass of port might be just what I need at this point.”

He watched her go to the cabinet, withdraw the bottle of port, and pour him a large glass. She carried it to him. Her eyes met his, quite directly and purposefully.

“You do look a bit unwell, Lord Percy.”

He gulped the port and then watched her sit down before he himself resumed his seat.

“Lady Margaret, have you had your constitutional this afternoon, for I thought we might take a stroll through the gardens, with an umbrella, of course.”

“I have had my constitutional, yes, with an umbrella, out of necessity.”

“Oh.” He tapped his fingers on his knees as he searched his mind for a topic that might interest her. “What say you about these corn laws, and the unrest they have created?”

She tossed her head, which made her long curls bounce against her shoulder.

“Oh, Lord Percy, I do not bother myself much about the comings and goings of those in politics.”

“I see. I only thought perhaps a woman of your intelligence might have an opinion on…”

The knock which they heard at the door was quite a pleasant diversion for them both, Percy suspected, as the conversation was strained.Through the open parlour door, they watched the butler answer the door. It was open only a moment, words were spoken, and then it was closed again. The butler immediately came to Lady Margaret’s side.

“Excuse me for interrupting, Lady Margaret, there is a message for you.”

“For me? Are you quite sure that it is not for Lady Mantrell?”

“It is for you, my Lady.” He held up the sealed missive. “From a Captain Halstone.”