Seven Years to Sin(39)
“He meant well, I suppose, but she should be here with us. It pains me to think of her alone.”
Michael seized the opportunity to segue into the reason he’d summoned her. “Her sister, Lady Regmont, feels similarly. And speaking of Hester, I am led to the point where I ask a favor of you.”
“Yes?”
“I should like you to deepen your association with her. Draw her into your social circle. Spend more time with her, if you would.”
Elspeth’s brows rose. “She is charming, of course, but there are a notable number of years between us. I am not certain our interests are aligned.”
“Try.”
“Why?”
Leaning forward, he set his forearms on his knees. “I fear something is not right with her. I need your opinion. If I am correct, you would note it straightaway.”
“I meant, why the interest in Lady Regmont in particular? Because of Jessica?”
“Certainly easing Jessica’s mind would please me,” he prevaricated. “The sisters care a great deal about one another.”
“Which is expected and laudable. Yet I still fail to see why the welfare of Regmont’s wife is your concern.” Her tone was more warily curious than argumentative. “If there is anything requiring attention, Regmont will see to it. You, on the other hand, need a spouse of your own to occupy you.”
Groaning, Michael’s head fell back and his eyes closed. “Is marrying me off all anyone can think about these days? The gossip rags are rife with speculation over my intentions, and now I cannot even enjoy a respite in my own home!”
“Isn’t there any woman who appeals to you?”
Absolutely. As you’ve so astutely surmised, I am mad for another man’s wife. He straightened. “Enough of this. I am well. Our affairs are well. There is no need for concern in any respect. I am tired and feeling ill equipped, but I’m learning quickly, and soon all will be as second nature to me. Settle your mind, if you would, please.”
His mother stood and moved over to the bell pull, her peach-hued satin skirts rustling as she moved. “I feel the need for a strong cup of tea.”
Michael felt the need for something much stronger.
“So.” Elspeth’s tone was resigned. “Tell me what rouses your concern over Lady Regmont.”
He felt precious little satisfaction over gaining his mother’s capitulation. What cause would Hester have to dread an amateur bout of pugilism between two civilized gentlemen? The recollection of the imploring, almost-fearful look on her face when they’d spoken earlier was still fresh. And troubling.
“She is gaunt and far too pale. She seems overly delicate, both physically and otherwise. It isn’t like her. She was always vivacious … full of energy and life.”
“Men rarely take note of such things about their own wives, let alone another man’s.”
Holding up his hand, he warded off further speculative admonishments. “I know my place and hers. Note that I am placing this matter in your hands. My mind will be eased by your assistance, allowing me to return my focus to affairs falling within my purview.”
A white-capped maid appeared in the open doorway, and Elspeth ordered a tea service. Then she returned to her former seat, straightening her skirts as she sat. “Your widely gazetted boxing match against Regmont suddenly takes on new meaning. I thought it wasn’t at all like the new man you’ve become to risk censure from the magistrates. I was actually hopeful it was a sign of the old Michael returning.”
“You are seeing motives that aren’t there. And it isn’t a match, which—as you pointed out—would be frowned upon by the magistrates. We’ve simply agreed to practice the sport together.”
She shot him a mother’s exasperated look. “You cannot tell me I don’t see how you fidget with the fob of your pocket watch, or tap your right foot against the floor. Those are long-standing habits of yours, which you have managed to suppress in the last year. Yet thinking of and talking about Lady Regmont reawakens those dormant tendencies. She has a profound effect on you.”
Michael scrubbed a hand over his face. “Why do women insist on ascribing deep meaning to random events?”
“Because we take note of life’s details, which men fail to do. That is why women are cleverer than men.” She bared her pristinely white teeth in an overly sweet smile.
He grew wary due to familiarity with that particular smile and the mischief it portended.
“I will see to Hester for you,” she said in a honeyed tone. “For a price.”
Right. He knew it. “What will it cost me?”
“You must allow me to introduce you to some suitable young ladies.”
“Bloody hell,” he snapped. “Can you not simply act out of the kindness of your heart?”
“Kindness for you. You are overworked, overtired, and underappreciated. Not surprisingly, you find yourself drawn to someone who is familiar and comfortable.”
Realizing that arguing against her points would only work against him, Michael kept his mouth shut and pushed to his feet. Tea was most definitely not going to be sufficient for him. Benedict’s cognac in the bookcase behind the desk was far more appealing. He approached the wall of books and bent to open one of the carved wooden cabinet doors lining the bottom row.