The Wicked Heir (Spare Heirs #3)(127)
But now, it seemed Emma had regained herself.
She lifted her shrewd gray eyes to meet Portia’s then gave a pointed look toward Angelique as well, who had been sitting quiet and solemn in her chair before the fireplace.
“You have faith in this Nightshade?” Emma asked.
Portia thought of Turner and the competence he embodied in his strength of purpose and plain-speaking attitude.
She nodded readily. She trusted the stranger more than she trusted anyone outside her family.
Then Emma turned to Mr. Bentley, who had stated earlier during Portia’s explanation that he knew of Nightshade and his work.
The tension between these two was fascinating in its intensity. The way the gambling-hell proprietor looked at Emma, with so much depth in his gaze, made Portia feel like an intruder upon an intimate scene. But Emma, typically so self-contained, had barely glanced at the man until now, which told Portia her sister either had less than zero interest in the man or she was feeling far more than she believed herself capable of concealing.
Portia suspected the latter.
At Emma’s questioning look, Mr. Bentley gave a nod as well. “He is highly regarded and has been reported as accomplishing tasks no one else would dare to attempt.”
Emma’s expression did not change, but Portia saw a shift in her sister. Emma’s initial shock seemed to be wearing away, and her characteristic fortitude, which had gotten the Chadwicks through the last several years, lit fiercely in her eyes.
“Then I shall endeavor to trust in his abilities as well, which means Lily will be returned to us,” Emma stated in a tone that allowed no room for dissent or doubt. “We must consider every contingency to protect Lily from whatever may follow after tonight.”
“Yes,” Portia agreed wholeheartedly. Finally, something to do beyond the endless pacing. “That is exactly what we must do.”
“An excellent plan, my dear.” Angelique also appeared relieved to have something to focus her thoughts on.
“I am afraid I must take my leave.”
Portia looked at Mr. Bentley in surprise. She honestly hadn’t expected him to stray far from Emma’s side tonight, not with the intent way he had been focused on her sister. Emma looked up at his words, and Portia had to glance away from the strange and awkward intimacy that passed between her sister and the gambling-hell proprietor.
Something very interesting had occurred between these two this evening.
“I wish I could stay,” he continued, “but there is something I must see to without delay.”
“Of course, Mr. Bentley.” Emma rose from where she had been sitting on the sofa. “I am sure you are anxious to return to your club. I imagine there is much you will have to do after last night’s celebration. Please allow me to show you out.”
Though they both said all the right things, Portia got a strong sense they wished they could be saying something else.
Mr. Bentley turned to Angelique and Portia. “If there should be anything I can do to assist your family, on this matter or any other, please do not hesitate to ask.”
Angelique lifted her opera glasses from the folds of her skirts to study the gentleman through the viewer before replying in a silken tone, “Thank you, monsieur. Do not be a stranger.”
As soon as Emma and Mr. Bentley quit the room, Angelique turned toward Portia and practically leaned out of her chair as she whispered in a voice far louder than it needed to be, “That man can grace my parlor any day. He is far more fun to look at than the drapes.”
Portia pressed the back of her hand to her mouth in an attempt to restrain the urge to giggle. It seemed Angelique, at least, was rather taken with the man. Leave it to the old lady to shift the mood with such a salacious comment.
“Tell me you do not think he is handsome,” Angelique insisted as she tucked her opera glasses back into the deep pocket of her skirt.
“I am not sure this is very proper conversation, Angelique.”
The aged lady gave a snort and waved her slim hand in a dismissive gesture. “If a lady cannot discuss such things in the privacy of her own parlor, where can she?”
Portia had to admit there was no good argument against such logic.
When Emma reappeared, her usual determination had been relit in her eyes. She came forward to sit beside Portia. The three women looked around at each other for a moment, then Emma said, “There is no telling what Lily might have endured by the time she is returned to us. There is much to discuss if we are to properly manage whatever might come after this night.”
“Where do we begin?” Portia asked, trying not to focus on the worst of her thoughts.
Emma took a heavy breath. “I thought we might start by taking a critical look at each of her suitors. Who might have the fortitude to withstand a scandal? Whose loyalty is most in question? And so on.”
Portia nodded. It was as good a place as any to start.
As more hot tea was fetched and the minutes ticked away, it helped to feel they were accomplishing something as they waited for word from Nightshade.
Nearly an hour later, as she and Emma argued the character of one particular gentleman, Portia felt a silent shift in the room. A tingle passed over the back of her neck. She glanced away from Emma and lost her breath at the sight of Lily standing silently in the doorway.
“Lily!” she shouted before she jumped to her feet and rushed across the room to wrap her sister in a fierce embrace. Relief flooded her system as Lily hugged her back. Portia dreaded letting her sister go again, but she did and stepped back to allow Emma and Angelique to assure themselves that Lily was truly home.