Regency Society. Ann Lethbridge
things had not changed. He still enjoyed the company at White’s—except for the days when his cousin was present. ‘I was speaking metaphorically, Rupert.’ As I was when I said it was good to see you. ‘Although you are not visible to me—’ and that is a blessing ‘—you can see that I have no trouble recognising you by your voice.’
‘Your other faculties are not impaired?’ Rupert sounded almost hopeful to be proven wrong. Could the man not pretend, even for an instant, that he was not waiting in the wings to snatch the title away?
‘No, Rupert,’ he said as patiently as possible. ‘You will find that I am still quite sharp. And since my brief period of reclusion is nearing its end, I will be returning to my usual haunts, and my place in the Parliament.’
‘And I suppose Lady Folbroke spoke the truth as well?’
About what? he wondered. And then decided to give his wife the benefit of the doubt. ‘Of course. She would have no reason to lie, would she?’
‘I suppose not. But then, congratulations are in order,’ Rupert said glumly.
‘Congratulations, old man?’ Anneslea addressed this to him. ‘You come to me with your dead eyes, and nothing but bad news. But your wife spreads the glad tidings, I suppose. What is it that we are celebrating?’
Not a clue. ‘I will let Rupert tell you, since he is obviously eager to share what he has learned.’
Rupert gave a sigh, sounding as far from eager as it was possible to be. ‘It seems that there will be a new heir to Folbroke, by Easter.’
When Hendricks came to her that afternoon with news of his errands, Emily could barely contain her excitement. It seemed the blind beggar had done more in the space of a few moments than she had managed in a week. ‘He saw himself in her, I am sure. And has been reminded of the advantages of his rank. Thank you so much, for helping to lead him the rest of the way.’ She leaned forward and clutched Hendricks by the arm, as he sat taking tea with her, so overcome with emotion at the thought of a brighter future that she thought she would burst from happiness.
At her touch, Hendricks gave a start that rattled his saucer, and glanced down at her hand as though he did not know quite what to do about it. ‘You give yourself too little credit, Lady Folbroke. It is your devotion to him that made the difference.’
‘And did he say anything of me?’ she asked hopefully. ‘Emily, that is. His wife.’ And she began to realise the extent of her confusion. It was as if she was two people, and unsure which of them would deserve Adrian’s attention.
‘I asked if I should go to you with this news. And he acknowledged that you would need to hear of it sooner, rather than later, and that he wished to speak to you himself. You will have some contact from him in the next day or so. I am sure of it.’
‘That is good,’ she said, closing her eyes in a silent prayer of thanks.
‘Perhaps his outing this afternoon will shed more light upon his plans.’
‘An outing?’ This was news, but she could not tell whether it was good or bad. ‘Did he say where he was going? Or when he might return? And who accompanied him?’ She peppered Hendricks with questions, until the poor man held up a hand to stop her.
‘He would not tell me, nor would he accept my escort. He left word that he would not be dining at home. But I assume he means to return long enough to dress and then visit you here, this evening. Beyond that, I know no more than you.’
‘That leaves me nothing to do but wait,’ she said, getting up to pace the room. ‘I did not give two thoughts to the risks he was taking, for all the time he was gone. I just assumed that he would be well.’
‘And he managed well without your help,’ Hendricks reminded her.
‘It is not as if I do not trust him to take care of himself,’ she said, trying to convince herself that it was a fact. ‘But now that I have seen him, and know how reckless he can be—’ she looked desperately at Hendricks ‘—what shall I do? What shall I do if he does not come back?’ When she had come to London, she had been worried about household economies and the loss of her freedom. But now the thought consumed her that, if she should never see him again, it would mean that he would never know who she was, or how she felt for him.
Hendricks stared down into his teacup. ‘Lord Folbroke would be most annoyed with me should I leave you to worry over nothing. You need have no fear for yourself, for even if the worst should occur, you are not without friends. You will not be alone, Emily. You shall never be alone.’
‘But I have no thought for myself,’ she said, going to look out the window in the vain hope that she would see his carriage pass by. ‘It is only he that I care about. He is at the centre of all my happiness. And now that I have found him again, I must keep him safe and healthy, and happy as well. Just as he was this morning.’
‘Then you must trust him,’ Hendricks said. ‘In a few hours, all will be right again. You will see.’
At a little before eight o’clock, she heard the sound of Adrian’s step in the hall and his call for a servant to take his hat and gloves. She rushed past the footman, dismissing the servant so that she could tend to him herself, running into his arms and pressing a kiss upon his lips.
Tonight, though well dressed, Adrian was not his usual, immaculate self. His cravat was tied loosely, his brown hair was mussed, and there was colour in his cheeks as though he had just come back from a ride, or some other strenuous pursuit. He gave a laugh when he recognised the feel of her, and gathered her close in a kiss so hungry that it bordered on violence.
He tasted of brandy, and salt as well. She felt a strange wetness upon her own lips. When she managed to push him clear so she could wipe it away, there was red on her fingers. She reached out gently to touch his mouth, and he flinched and batted her hand away. ‘There is a cut on your lip.’
It was odd. For instead of the reaction she had been expecting, of a curse or another wince of pain, he ran a finger tentatively across the wound and grinned at her, wolfish and wicked. ‘So there is.’
She reached into her sleeve and withdrew a handkerchief, wetting it the tip of her tongue and reaching up to dab away the blood.
He pulled her close again, lifting her so that her toes barely touched the ground and gave a growl. ‘Kiss it better?’
‘I do not want to hurt you.’
“Tis a pity that the man who hit me did not feel the same. Of course, I’d pegged him good by the time he landed this on me. So I suppose I had it coming.’ Her husband was still grinning, blue eyes sparkling with an emotion that she had not seen before. And he kissed her again, as he had on that first night, as though he could not wait to take her to bed and did not care who knew it.
‘You were fighting?’ The words and the kiss sent her thoughts rushing back to the man he had been when she’d found him. She sniffed his breath again. ‘You have been drinking, haven’t you?’
‘And what if I have?’ He kissed her throat, fondling her body through the gown she wore.
She pushed at his hands, trying to catch her breath. ‘You promised me that there would be no more of that. You are too valuable to me to squander yourself. I was beside myself with worry over you.’
He paused, leaning his face against her hair. ‘Really, madam, you cannot expect me to place my calendar totally in your hands, no matter how lovely those hands might be. My life is still my own, is it not?’ But somehow, he did not sound particularly happy with his freedom.
‘Of course it is,’ she assured him. ‘You know I have no claim on you. But no matter what happens between us, it is very important to me to know you are safe and well.’