Regency Society Collection Part 1. Sarah Mallory
though remembering that he apparently did not know the name of the woman who had come home with them. ‘I will find someone to see you home.’
When she was sure that her husband would see the shadow of her head, she nodded in approval. Then she backed from the room and shut the door.
‘Hendricks,’ she kept her voice low, so that it would not carry to the bedroom, but used a tone of command that had served her well when dealing with employees who thought, even for a moment, that they owed more loyalty to her husband than to the woman standing in front of them.
‘My lady.’ She saw his spine stiffen instantly to full obedience.
She glared at him. ‘You did not tell me.’
‘That he was blind? I thought you knew.’
She was his wife. She should have known that about him, if nothing else. But what was one more regret on a very long list? But now, Hendricks mocked her ignorance.
Then, as a sop to her feelings, he said, ‘The servants are not allowed to discuss Lord Folbroke’s indisposition. He pretends it does not matter. Often it does not. But he acts as if the careless things he does pose no greater risk to him. He is very wrong.’
She had to agree, for it was quite obviously true.
‘Between the drink, and the loss of vision, he did not know me.’
‘Yes, my lady.’ Hendricks did not seem surprised. But she felt some gratification to see that he looked ashamed of his part in the state of things.
‘It will save us both embarrassment if that is the way this night remains. You will inform the servants that, no matter what they might think they have seen, he was brought home by a stranger. Is that clear?’
‘Yes, Lady Folbroke.’
‘When I have had time to think on this, I will have some words with him. But it must wait until my husband’s mind has cleared itself of blue ruin.’
The secretary’s reserve broke. ‘While I have no doubt that you will achieve the first half of the statement, the last may be beyond all of our control.’ Then, as though he could mitigate the forwardness of the statement, he added, ‘My lady.’ And then he gave her a desperate look as though it pained him to betray the confidence. ‘He is seldom sober any more. Even during the day. We who have served him for most of his life are at our wits’ end as to what can be done.’
Emily thought of the man in the other room, reeking of gin. Was it really so different than what she had feared? In her heart, she had been sure that she would find him drunk. But she had mistaken the reason. She reached out to touch the arm of the man beside her. ‘How long has he been like this?’
‘The whole of the last month, certainly.’ He tapped his forehead. ‘It is the eyes, my lady. As they fail him, he loses all hope. My lord’s valet has heard him laugh and say that it will not be a problem for long. We fear he means to do something desperate. And we do not know how to stop him.’
She closed her own eyes and took a deep breath, telling herself that this was an estate matter, nothing more. Her heart was no longer involved in it. She must remember her reasons for coming to find him, and that they had nothing to do with a reconciliation or delivering scolds about his scandalous conduct.
But no matter how she felt about his treatment of her, she could not very well allow him to kill himself.
‘My husband has taken the notion that this is for the best. I can see, as plainly as you can, that this is nonsense. He is not thinking clearly, and I will not allow him to do himself an injury. At least not until he can present a better reason than the minor problem he has.’
Or until I am sure that my own place is secure.
If he was truly resolved to end his life, she doubted that there was anything to be done. She was little better than a stranger to him. What would he care what she thought? She hardened her heart against the desperation and panic that she was feeling. ‘My orders stand, just as they are. You and the other servants are forbidden from speaking of my efforts to find Adrian, or my return with him this evening. Let him think me a stranger.’ Then she pushed past the secretary and went into her husband’s room.
The valet looked terrified by her sudden appearance, and she held up a hand as a sign of caution. Then she looked down at the man on the bed who was now dressed in a nightshirt, and sporting a makeshift bandage on his temple. ‘Before I left, I wished to assure myself that you are all right.’
At the sound of her voice he looked pained that she had found him helpless. There was a lost look in his blank blue eyes that made him seem smaller than she knew him to be. ‘It should not be your job to see to my safety. As a gentleman, I should have been able to take care of you.’
‘You succeeded,’ she said. ‘You fought well. We were within a few feet of the door when you were struck down. And that was by an unfair blow. A sighted man could not have done better and would have ended just as you did.’
There was a ghost of his old, rakish smile, as he tried to joke away his embarrassment. ‘My talents do not end there, my dear.’ He patted the bed at his side. ‘If you wish to come closer, I would be happy to demonstrate.’
‘That will not be necessary.’ She paused long enough to see the slightest crease of disappointment form on his forehead. ‘I prefer my companions to be washed and shaved. And not soaked in gin. However …’
She leaned in to give him a peck on the forehead as a farewell reward. But as she did so, she realised that the token kiss would be everything he feared about his future. What she had intended as comfort would seem a sexless and maternal gesture, a cruel dismissal to the man who had fought to protect her.
So she pushed back upon his chest, forcing him into the pillows, and kissed him properly on the mouth. His lips opened in surprise, and she threw caution to the winds and slipped her tongue between them, stroking the inside of his mouth as he had done to hers. She felt the same rush of excitement she had felt in the tavern, and the desire to be closer still. And the feeling that she had felt often, over the last few years: that something was missing from her well-ordered life—and that, perhaps, it was Adrian Longesley.
Then she ended the kiss and turned to leave.
‘Wait.’ He caught her wrist.
‘I must go.’
‘You cannot. Not after that.’
She gave a little laugh. ‘Neither can I stay.’
‘Meet me again.’ He ran his other hand through his hair in exasperation and his words were hurried, as though he was trying to think of anything that might tempt her to stay. ‘So that I might assure myself of your safety, when I am not indisposed.’ His smile was back again. ‘You will like me better when I have had time to wash, dress and shave.’
‘Will I have to go to a brothel to find you? Or merely a gaming hell?’ She shook her head, and remembered that he would not see her refusal, then said, ‘I think not.’
‘Why not here? Tomorrow morning.’
‘You expect me to come to a man’s rooms, in daylight and unescorted.’
His face fell. ‘Your reputation. I had forgotten.’
‘Thank you very much for your belated concern.’
He winced as though it were a physical effort to stumble through the courtesies she deserved. ‘If there were somewhere that we could talk, in privacy and discretion …’
Emily sighed, as though she were not sure of the wisdom of her actions and then let herself be persuaded. ‘I will send you a letter, and you will come to me when it is convenient.’
He released her hand, letting his fingers drag down the length of it until he touched only her fingertips. ‘I look forward to your communication.’
She was glad that he could not clearly see