you on the other side of it, Camy, please. I doubt she bites.”
Sadie turned to see the housekeeper directly behind her, and gave her a sympathetic look and shrug of her shoulders.
The door opened and closed again, and Sadie was alone with Darby Travers, the man who held Marley’s fate in his hands, even if he’d yet to know that, and wouldn’t, not until she was assured the man wasn’t planning to wriggle out of his new responsibility.
She decided to prove her relationship to John before the man could repeat his earlier suspicions, spoken of so jokingly at their first, unfortunate meeting.
“John told me much about you, my lord, and those days in that horrible camp. You, and your friends, and so many more fine English soldiers, all the victims of the consequences of inferior leadership. How are the others, if I might inquire? Captains Sinclair, Rigby and Cooper Townsend, the latter injured in the same battle as Your Lordship. John said you four were close as inkle weavers and always ripe for adventure. He seemed to swell with pride at having known you. May I be seated?”
There. Now she could only hope that mentioning the names of his friends carried any weight for him in proving she was who she said she was. Or had she been too obvious?
She sat down before he could answer, moving the quilted pillow out of the way. The satin was still warm to the touch, and smelled faintly of the same shaving soap her brother had favored. She resisted an urge to clasp it close to her chest, as a sort of protection.
She’d already noticed that the man really didn’t look well, certainly not displaying the same vibrant presence he’d projected earlier. His complexion was rather pale now beneath a healthy tan, his hair a bit ruffled, as if he’d been running his fingers through it, or perhaps massaging his head.
He had the headache, perhaps? A lingering reminder of his wound? She felt some pity for him, but wasn’t so silly that she didn’t see the advantage could temporarily reside in her corner during what would probably turn out to be a sparring match between them. With luck, whatever ailed him would put him off his game, as John had told her the viscount was wickedly intelligent, witty and didn’t suffer fools gladly. Her brother had admired the man, his courage and even self-deprecating humor in the face of his terrible injury.
“They’re all in good health, thank you for asking. We were all quite fond of John, and saddened to hear of his death.” Lord Nailbourne didn’t retake his seat, choosing instead to lean against the front of an ancient carved desk some feet distant from the couch.
What was the protocol in duels? Ten paces, then stop, turn and fire? Sadie could feel the tension in the room, and wondered if it was all coming from her, as the dratted man still seemed very much at his ease.
Well or in pain, he was a handsome man, possibly made even more so by the eye patch, and his height would have been intimidating to most. Sadie gave a quick thank-you to her parents, who had combined to make her the empowering height she was. If she’d been a petite thing, she might feel completely overwhelmed and overmatched by the man. In truth, she still would have felt more than slightly intimidated, save for the quilt marks on his right cheek, which made him seem more human. Rather like a young boy, playing dress-up.
She wasn’t sure now what she’d been expecting, as John had never mentioned the viscount’s age, but it was clear he still lacked a few years before he was on the shady side of thirty. So young, and yet one of the wealthiest men in England, with all the benefits and burdens that sort of thing entailed.
And now she’d added to his responsibilities.
“My lord,” she began, searching for the correct words to show she knew of the imposition John had placed on him, but he stopped her simply by raising his hand.
“Forgive me for doubting your identity earlier.”
That sounded rather like a demand, but she was too relieved to challenge him.
“I looked at the letter again, and clearly nowhere did you suggest that you were a solicitor acting on John’s behalf. In fact, you didn’t identify yourself at all.”
That was definitely an accusation. Even if he’d cut off her apology, clearly he wasn’t going to take all blame onto his shoulders.
“No, I suppose I didn’t,” she said. It had taken her some time and several attempts before she’d been satisfied with the letter. She certainly could not have given him the one John had written. Yes, John. A safer subject than the letter, no question. “I imagine you’ll want to know more about my brother.”
“I say again, a good man.”
“Yes, but you’re wondering why he would ask me to hold you to a promise you made him so long ago. That’s understandable. John was injured in the camp, shortly before the Russians found it and freed their men and the British who were there. What you might know as being belly shot. He—” Sadie hesitated, as the wound to her heart was still raw “—never fully recovered, and this past summer—the heat, you understand—was a torture to him. We both knew it was only a matter of time. His passing was a blessing in many ways.”
“You’re saying he as good as died in that camp. Again, I’m sincerely sorry, Mrs. Boxer. I tried to convince him to leave with us, but he wouldn’t desert his patients. Your brother died a hero, and I can do no less than stand by my promise to him.”
Sadie’s shoulders finally relaxed. One hurdle passed over safely. Marley would have a home.
“He said you were an honorable man, that you all were brave and honorable gentlemen. Thank you. I know Marley will be safe with you.”
The viscount pushed himself away from the desk. “Safe, Mrs. Boxer? That seems an odd choice of word.”
Wickedly intelligent. I shouldn’t forget that, must never fully relax my guard.
“John left little money, and owned no property. Everything he had came courtesy of our village, and hopefully there will be a new physician installed within a few months. It was only because I could manage the surgery on his behalf while he was away, and yes, after he returned, that we weren’t put out on the street months ago.”
“Really? It would appear you are a woman of hidden talents. How fortunate for the villagers.”
Was he mocking her? Applauding her? Doubting her? His tone, his smile, could be interpreted many ways.
“One does what one must, especially with so many doctors and surgeons gone to war, but I am no physician. Once John truly was gone, a more suitable replacement was in order. Marley is homeless, near-penniless and alone save for me. In today’s world, would you call that safe, my lord?”
There, that should satisfy him!
He rubbed at his forehead. “I seem to go from bad to worse with you, Mrs. Boxer, so I might as well push on. Where is your husband? May I assume he also is deceased?”
Or did he run, screaming, into the night, to be shed of you? He didn’t say that, but Sadie was fairly certain he was thinking it.
But she’d prepared herself for this question. “You’re correct to believe I am without a husband, my lord. Maxwell has been gone for more than two years now.”
So much truth, taken separately. It was only when the two
