After all the guests were seated, he glanced Miss Norbury’s way, but his expression was unreadable. The young lady only stared straight ahead. Lord Withinghall broke the silence and spoke to her. They began a quiet conversation, which Leorah couldn’t quite hear.
Leorah did her best to ignore Lord Withinghall and Miss Augusta Norbury but found herself glancing back at them over and over, completely without intending to. Of course she’d been foolish not to think the two were well suited to one another. They were both haughty and cold and unfriendly. She would make him a perfect politician’s wife as she probably had no opinions and would readily profess whatever opinions her husband held, and only when asked.
Leorah wasn’t sure why this should annoy her so much. She certainly didn’t care who Lord Withinghall married. But wasn’t she entitled to have an opinion about it anyway, since he did ask to marry her first?
Her reasoning was not sound, and that thought made her even more cross.
After dinner, the ladies withdrew to the drawing room and left the men temporarily in the dining room, as was usual.
Leorah and Felicity sat down together, and Felicity whispered, “Lord Withinghall looked quite handsome tonight, don’t you think? His new valet is a significant improvement. His hair is much more in keeping with the modern fashion, and his neckcloth has a more becoming style, as well as his coat. I’ve never seen him wear that shade of dark blue. Didn’t you think he looked handsome?”
“I think his looks would improve even more if he wore a billowy white shirt, open at the neck, with a cutlass between his teeth.”
“Oh, Leorah, don’t even bring up that little ignominy!” Felicity whispered back. “I wouldn’t wish anyone here to know he heard us compare him to a P-I-R-A-T-E.”
“For goodness’ sake, Felicity, you don’t have to spell it. No one is listening to us.” Leorah felt a brush of air on her neck and turned her head.
Mr. Pinegar was leaning toward her, his face barely six inches from her own.
“Good heavens, Mr. Pinegar! You startled me.”
“Forgive me,” he said, his face reminding her of a weasel, with his tiny black eyes and pointy nose. “I was about to ask what you two lovely ladies were talking of.”
“Are the men already joining us?” Leorah avoided answering him, looking over her shoulder at the doorway of the drawing room. In fact, the men were joining them, and she watched as they filed into the room.
Leorah introduced Mr. Pinegar to Felicity, and they each made the expected remarks.
“Miss Langdon, I trust your wrist is healing well.” Mr. Pinegar nodded at her arm, thickly wrapped in its splint and bandages. Pinegar’s smile wrinkled his nose and made him look like he was either in pain or smelling something unpleasant.
“Very well, Mr. Pinegar, I thank you.”
“And Lord Withinghall? His leg is healing well?”
“Yes. That is, I hope so.”
Lord Withinghall entered the room and went and sat beside Miss Norbury, who immediately turned her body toward him.
Mr. Pinegar nodded vigorously. “I saw that it was a bad break when Mr. Moss and I came upon you and Lord Withinghall in the overturned carriage. It is miraculous that you were not seriously injured in the accident.” He raised his thin little eyebrows at her.
Leorah didn’t answer him right away. Why did she have the impression that he was quite joyful they had been in an accident? She didn’t like the look on his face at all, and he was speaking so loudly, a few people had turned their heads to listen, including Miss Norbury and Lord Withinghall.
“No, I was not seriously injured.” Seeing she had an audience, Leorah continued. “And if God is willing, Lord Withinghall’s leg will be perfectly healed in a few weeks. It was a terrible carriage accident, however, and Lord Withinghall’s coachman was killed, God rest his soul. Such a harrowing experience, and I am so grateful you and Mr. Moss came along when you did to take us home.” Leorah pressed her hand against her chest in feigned distress, then gratitude, as she imagined most ladies would do in the situation.
The ladies surrounding her shook their heads and made sympathetic noises with their tongues against their teeth.
“You poor dear,” Mrs. Russell said. She fanned herself with a carved ivory and lace fan, making the flabby skin under her arm flap from side to side. “It must have been so frightening.”
“Oh yes, and poor Lord Withinghall completely helpless on the floor of the carriage with his broken leg.” She glanced over at her brother Nicholas to see if she was saying the correct thing. He winked and gave her a tiny nod. The entire party of people was now looking at her and listening raptly.
“Actually,” she went on, “he was lying on the ceiling of the carriage, for it had turned completely upside down and was resting on its top.”
Several ladies gasped.
“But Lord Withinghall bore his injury with the greatest patience.” Leorah chanced to glance at Lord Withinghall, and he was scowling most fiercely, reminding her again of his pirate persona. “Yes, Lord Withinghall was completely helpless and unconscious for much of the ordeal. He is nearly recovered, though, as you see, except for his poor leg.”
She smiled sweetly at the viscount, who did not even attempt to wipe the scowl off his face.
“But, my dear,” Mrs. Russell said, lowering her voice and leaning forward, “was there no one else in the carriage with you and Lord Withinghall?”
“We were alone,” Leorah said gravely, “except for the coachman, as Lord Withinghall was on his way home to Grimswood Castle when he encountered me, quite incidentally, just after my horse had thrown me and broken my wrist.”
Mrs. Russell tilted her head to one side. “I see.”
“So how came you to have a splint on your arm when Mr. Moss and I found you?” Mr. Pinegar contorted his face into a very puzzled look, even though he had already heard this explanation.
“Lord Withinghall put the splint on my wrist.”
Before she could finish her explanation, Mr. Pinegar leaned forward with an eager glint in his eye. “I thought you said Lord Withinghall was quite helpless.”
“Oh, he put on the splint before the accident. You see, the road was not in very good condition and was jarring my wrist, so Lord Withinghall had the coachman stop the carriage and he splinted my arm with some sticks and bandages.”
“The coachman splinted your arm?”
“No, Lord Withinghall splinted it.”
“The viscount? He was able to splint your arm?” Mr. Pinegar looked around the room, his expression one of open-mouthed astonishment. Many guests stared, waiting for the rest of the explanation.
Leorah opened her mouth to speak, but Lord Withinghall cut her off.