Always a Maiden (The Belles of Beak Street #5)(55)



If they’d been shown to the drawing room, it was no wonder his uncle was in a panic as Gilbert would be there soon as they gathered before dinner.

“They are in the library.”

“Would you like to inform the housekeeper or should I?” Evan asked as he unbuttoned the falls of his unmentionables.

“Are you certain they need to stay tonight?” It wasn’t like his uncle to be so indecisive. But then he looked anxious.

“I’m certain that it would be for the best. They won’t encounter Gilbert, I’ll make certain of it. Better to house them, then to send them off into the night where they might risk encountering highwaymen.”

His uncle nodded. “You’re right, of course.” He looked left and right. “I should have gates installed so no one can drive up to the house. Martha and I discussed it, but we managed to discourage visitors before they ever made it that far.”

Evan grimaced. “I shall endeavor to do so going forward. I never thought anyone would arrive without notice.”

His uncle departed to inform the housekeeper of the plan. Evan resumed dressing for a dinner he was certain he wouldn’t be able to eat.



*

Susanah stared at the mantle clock. Twenty minutes had passed since they were first shown into the library and each one of them had been an eternity. What if she had been wrong to come? What if Evan didn’t want to marry her?

She’d been over every horrid possibility in her mind since climbing into the carriage in the wee hours of the morning. What if his proposal had only been a feint to seduce her, and he’d never intended to marry her at all? Or he only wanted to marry her if he was assured of her dowry and inheritance? He might not have any regard for her at all. He’d left the very day he’d taken her to the park to ride as if he couldn’t wait any longer to get away.

She may have made a terrible mistake.

Why wasn’t he joining them? She looked at the clock again.

It was stuck. It had to be. The minute hand hadn’t moved at all.

She tried to puzzle out if there was any significance in being shown to the library rather than a drawing room. It wouldn’t be unusual for male callers to be shown to the library, but generally, ladies were taken to a drawing room. Then again they were calling on the steward not the lord of the manor. But neither Ashton nor Annabelle seemed the least bit perturbed.

No, they were chatting about their children.

“I’m sure he’ll be here soon,” Ashton said to her.

She tensed, never certain if he was teasing her or not. Then she gave a nod. She’d betrayed her anxiety by glancing too many times at the clock. She wouldn’t look again without counting to at least a hundred—slowly.

“They might be at dinner if they keep country hours,” said Annabelle. “We probably should have found a place to stay and sent word we’d like to call on the morrow.”

Susanah didn’t know if she could have survived another night without knowing if he would have her. But she kept her expression schooled.

Annabelle glanced out the window where the light slanted in from a low angle.

“You can’t think of a cousin within a dozen miles?” Ashton asked his wife.

“The nearest is another ten leagues or so.” Annabelle frowned. “And farther from London.”

They wouldn’t be able to travel thirty miles before the light was completely gone.

“I believe there was an inn before we turned off the main road,” said Ashton.

If they were discussing where to stay for the night, they must be concerned that no one had welcomed them yet.

She wanted to scream at them that they couldn’t leave, couldn’t stay elsewhere, but she had already insisted they must press on when they had started discussing stopping for the night nearly two hours ago.

The door opened and she leaned forward, but instead of Evan, an older man entered the room. She looked beyond him for Evan, but he closed the door behind him.

Ashton stood and crossed to greet the man. “Lord Morton, how good to see you again.”

The older gentleman looked at Ashton with a look of confused surprise.

“You probably don’t remember me,” Ashton continued blithely. “No doubt, I had a runny nose, skinned knees, and a morbid fascination with military uniforms. You were garrisoned near Bridgwater and my father came to inspect the troops.”

The older man looked startled then said, “I do remember you. You were with Lord Halswelle.”

“I shouldn’t have been,” Ashton said easily, but I stowed away in his carriage and by the time he realized I was there it was too late to send me back.” He flashed a charming self-deprecating grin. He was never afraid to make himself the butt of his own jests.

“Can’t say I remember you looking anything other than presentable,” said Lord Morton stiffly.

Ashton just grinned as if he didn’t know how to be offended. “And fascinated. In awe of you and your fellow soldiers.” He gestured toward her. “Allow me to present Lady Susanah Poole and my wife, Annabelle.”

The older man turned to Susanah without even acknowledging Annabelle, which was rude. “You’re Weatdon’s girl.”

“Yes,” she answered only barely able to keep her eyes on him instead of on the door. Where was Evan? Or was the man staring at her because he was charged with rebuffing her? Her throat tightened.

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