The Luck of the Bride (The Cavensham Heiresses #3)(71)

“These just arrived,” Faith offered as she kept one note for herself and gave the other to March. She tore open the seal, and her eyes darted across the page as she read. Slowly, she pressed her eyes shut for a moment. “Dr. Kennett will not be able to attend me this morning as he must spend the day away from London.”

Julia reached over and squeezed Faith’s arm. “He’ll come as soon as he’s able.”

Faith nodded, but continued to stare at the paper in her hands.

March tore hers open since she recognized the Earl of Queensgrace’s seal. Expecting to find the time he would visit today, she stared speechless at the words. He extended his sincerest apology, but he would not be visiting anytime in the near future as he’d returned to Scotland on an unavoidable emergency. He’d simply signed it “Queensgrace.”

She stared at the note, desperate to stall for time so she could offer a comforting response to Julia. Her sister would immediately believe he’d left her company for good, and March had no idea how to explain it since she didn’t understand itself.

“It’s from the earl, isn’t it?” Julia asked. She busied her hands with folding a copy of The Midnight Cryer. “He’s not coming, is he?”

Julia’s wispy voice carried an underlying note of disappointment. Her visage didn’t belie any upset, but her eyes were bright with pain.

“Sweetheart, he was called out of town,” March soothed.

Her youngest sister straightened her shoulders and gracefully moved from the bed to stand beside March. “Did he say when we might expect him?”

March shook her head and leaned close to embrace Julia. “No, he didn’t. I’m sorry. But I shall write and ask when he expects to return.”

Julia stepped away and walked to the window. She clasped her arms around her waist, either to stave off any more hurt or as a means to keep herself from collapsing on the floor.

“I’d rather you not, March,” she whispered. “Whatever friendship we shared is over. He should have written me and explained directly and honestly.”

Faith rushed to her side and took her in her arms. “Don’t say such words. You need to allow him the chance to explain.”

Julia regarded Faith with a seriousness well beyond her eighteen years. “I’m not a child anymore, and I know what his note means. It’s easier to leave London and the scandal behind. Within two months, everyone will forget that he had any regard for me. When he returns to town, he’ll be able to pursue another without any societal censure.”

March’s insides twisted at her little sister’s painful but truthful assessment. The Earl of Queensgrace’s political future promised to be one of great success. He couldn’t afford any hint of impropriety or scandal.

The haunted look on both of her sisters’ faces nearly brought her to her knees. Rupert had damaged more than he could have imagined by his nefarious accusations. There was only one thing for her to do if she had any chance of repairing her sisters’ chances for happiness.

She’d visit the Chelmsford vicar herself and right this wrong.

*

McCalpin noted wryly that Bennett’s tutor had made remarkable progress with the young man’s penmanship and spelling. The note from the young viscount was actually legible this time.

However, the contents still caused his blood to boil.

McCalpin,

You’ve never seen such sadness descend on Langham Hall after last night’s despicable actions by Rupert. I loathe calling him my cousin. March isn’t the only one who suffers from abject humiliation. Rupert has managed to maim Faith and Julia with his ugly accusations. Neither Kennett or Queensgrace have bothered to visit today after yesterday’s uproar. They’re all blighters in my humble opinion.

McCalpin agreed with Bennett’s assessment and sneered in disgust for the two men. They’d abandoned the Lawson sisters when they needed them most. He couldn’t dwell on it now. He’d decide how to deal with them later. Now, his schedule included only one thing, retrieving March from her hell-bent plan to visit the vicarage in Chelmsford on her own.

March stole away in mid-morning. I saw her exit the servants’ entrance and leave Langham Hall via the alley by the carriage house. I found the note on her pillow that detailed her travel. She plans to catch the mail coach to Chelmsford and will return tomorrow.

The blasted woman had left three hours before. Bennett apparently had a devil of a time finding an available footman to deliver the note to McCalpin House. The boy stated that he tried to visit McCalpin directly, hoping they both could find her together, but the tutor had immediately quashed the young viscount’s plan as he was due for a Latin lesson. He had quickly finished the lesson and penned the last few paragraphs before finding Milton, his favorite footman, and directing him to deliver the missive.

Man to man, I must beg you to find my sister and bring her home. I can’t bear to see her traveling alone. What if trouble finds her? What if she doesn’t have enough to eat or money to return home?

Respectfully yours,

Lawson

P.S. I’d find her myself, but Mr. Tatum has insisted we study Latin all day, then we’ll visit Gunter’s for an ice. The man knows my weakness and preys upon it.

God, would they ever feel secure in London and at Langham Hall? He released the breath after his lungs had burned in protest.