I snapped my head up from the letter, startled to see her still there. “Yes, everything is fine.”
Sophie came closer and peered into my face. “You look bone-weary this morning, miss.” Her gaze drifted over my gown. “And no wonder, with you still dressed from the party. Did you close your eyes at all last night?”
I looked down at my rumpled skirts. “I slept a little in the chair.”
She gave me a kind smile, one that belonged more to a grandmother than Sophie’s youthful face. “A few winks in a chair doesn’t make a good night’s sleep.” She patted my arm. “Turn around and I’ll undo your laces. Lady Dinley is also sleeping late this morning, so you won’t be in bad company.”
Her fingers worked deftly, and in no time she had me sitting on the edge of the bed in my shift. “Lay your head down, miss, and we’ll get you properly tucked.”
With a thick yawn, I sank into the mattress and let Sophie draw the covers to my chin.
All is well. A calming tincture could not have soothed my nerves more than those three simple words in Henry’s letter. The remainder, though, continued to befuddle me. Give my sincerest appreciation to Cate. What had he meant by that?
Another yawn escaped. “By any chance did Lady Dinley go out again last night after we came home?”
“Yes, miss, one of the orphans brought word that her ladyship was needed back at the palace. I just put her to bed an hour ago when she returned.”
Startled, I pushed up onto my elbows. “Did she say what happened?”
“Something about saving your life and averting civil war, but I didn’t get the particulars.”
My heart thudded a quick beat. Throwing the covers back, I started to sit up. “I should talk to her.”
“You’ll do no such thing,” Sophie said, so sharply I stopped mid-motion. “Her ladyship is exhausted, and will not be woken for any reason.”
Guilt rolled over me. “Of course. I will speak with her later.”
Sophie’s voice softened. “Rest now, miss. There will be time enough for answers once you’ve both had some sleep.” She returned the blankets to my chin.
“Sincerest appreciation, indeed,” I murmured once the door clicked shut. Cate had saved me three times now, and as I drifted into darkness, her face floated through my dreams with the dazzling brilliance of a guardian angel.
*
The second message arrived shortly after noon. Rejuvenated from a few hours of sleep, only the remembrance of Sophie’s temper kept me from running straight to Cate’s room for a detailed accounting. Instead, I went in search of Nora, anxious to relay all the sordid details of Amelia’s behavior last night. I smiled inwardly, envisioning how Nora’s eyes would snap in my defense, and the inevitable droll remarks that would buoy my spirits like nothing else. She would also want to hear every detail of how Henry had challenged an entire room of men to a duel. Since Quakers were pacifists, it could be downright shocking how much Nora loved tales of a good fight, and I had often wondered if she held more in common with her pirate grandfather than either of her parents.
Leaving a knock on the door, I turned the knob and peeked into the room. It was empty, with the bed made and the drapes tied back for the day. Not that I expected to find her still abed, lollygagging in her nightdress. I had just hoped she would be writing letters or reading one of the novels from Cate’s expansive library.
Back in the hallway, I heard Lucy Goodwin’s animated voice drift up from the drawing room. Thinking to find Nora with her mother, I made it to the bottom step when a footman handed me a letter. Gray hair frosted his temples and his pasty face held none of the liveliness of the younger footman who had taken to flirting with my maid.
“Left by Lord Ftizalan’s footman, miss,” he said, in an insipid tone that evoked images of stale bread.
I glanced at the familiar seal and my stomach fluttered with anticipation. “When did it arrive?”
“About two hours ago, miss, but Sophie gave strict orders that you were not to be disturbed unless the house was afire.” He bowed and turned to leave.
I waited until I was alone again before tearing the letter open. Skimming the salutation, my heart dropped at the first line.
My Dearest Selah,
I leave London this morning on an errand for my father. I shall return in four days, at which time I expect to receive news regarding our future.
Ever yours,
Henry