“Odd?” Grif asked, raising a brow.
“Odd, as her house is already open, my lord!” Lady Worthall exclaimed impatiently.
“I donna find it odd at all, really,” Grif said calmly. “The house is open for a time, ’tis true, but it willna be open as late as the summer.”
“Oh really? So you will not be staying on?”
“I didna say as much as that, did I, then?” he asked pleasantly. “I havena determined my plans as of yet.”
“Ah! I seeeee,” she said, nodding thoughtfully, and made a motion to the footman to open the door. “Then I suppose you won’t mind in the least if I write to Lady Dalkeith and inform her that your plans are, at present, uncertain?”
Witch. Grif walked to the door and opened it. “My dear Lady Worthall, ye may write to Lady Dalkeith and inform her whatever ye like. ’Tis no’ me affair.”
Unfortunately, Hugh chose that precise moment to make his grand return from trawling about all night. His clothes were disheveled, his hair was a mess, and beneath the full shadow of a beard, Grif could smell whiskey.
It was obvious that the sight of Lady Worthall startled Hugh; he blinked several times, unable to find his tongue. Probably because it was still wrapped around a bottle somewhere. Actually, no one could quite find their tongue until Hugh gathered his sodden wits and bowed with a flourish before Grif. “Milord, I have done yer bidding and delivered the post,” he said, rising with some difficulty. “Will that be all, then?”
“Aye,” Grif said through clenched teeth.
Hugh bowed again and strode quickly out of the foyer.
Lady Worthall turned a cold gaze to Grif. “As I said, my lord, I shall write to Lady Dalkeith straightaway and inform her that you and your… valet, is he? That you and your valet have not as yet determined your plans.”
Now Grif could not even muster a smile. “Good day, Lady Worthall.”
“Good day!” she said icily.
Her dull gray skirt had scarcely cleared the door before Grif shut it resoundingly behind her and her footman. He stood there, jaw clenched, staring daggers at the door. And then he turned that murderous glare to the staircase, his imagination already racing ahead to what, exactly, he might do to Hugh.
While Hugh and Grif were arguing loudly about what constituted “valetlike” behavior, across town, Anna had called for the coach and the family driver, Bentley, to take her to Hampton Court.
She’d vacillated about actually calling on Mrs. Merriman. But she was sick to death of listening to Lucy go on about all the gentlemen who esteemed her, and when Bette and her husband had called to announce the happy news that they were with child for the third time, Lucy’s bragging had been Anna’s undoing at last.
Lucy, Anna, and Bette had been looking at gowns Bette could no longer wear when Lucy blithely announced Drake Lockhart had been to call four times since the Valtrain ball.
“And moreover,” she’d said, clipping earrings on her ears and admiring herself, “he has kissed me rather passionately. And he has touched my breast…my bare breast.”
“Lucy Addison!” Bette exclaimed, horrified.
“What?” Lucy asked innocently. “I should think that when a man touches a woman’s bare breast, he intends to make the woman his own. Wouldn’t you, Anna?” she’d asked, turning to look at her sister.
“I would never be so bold as to assume any such thing,” Anna said quietly. “And I should hope I’d not be so easily seduced.”
“What makes you think I was the one who was easily seduced?” Lucy asked with a wicked little laugh.
“Lucy!” Bette cried, putting a hand over her mouth.
Lucy laughed again. “Oh, Bette, really! I’m only teasing!”
It was true that Drake had called on Lucy, but Anna simply could not believe he’d kissed Lucy, or that Drake had touched Lucy in such a manner. She wouldn’t believe it… all right, if it were true, she could only surmise that Drake had been momentarily distracted by Lucy’s charm. At least that’s what she told herself.
And really, in spite of the tiny little part of her that refused to believe what she’d told herself, certainly Drake had given Anna no reason to believe his esteem for her had wavered in the least. In fact, at the Sotheby tea, Drake had been quite complimentary of Anna, and had even shared some of his private thoughts with her. He’d confided that he worried so about Nigel, and how he hoped to make a good match for his sister, Barbara. He told her he’d rather like to be a physician, and found the study of human anatomy quite fascinating.