Edward chuckled. “I’m not married either, but it would seem I have at least one enemy.”
Surely his father’s heritage was not catching up to him, the violent end he had met. His father’s demise could have been predicted, but Edward had never hurt anyone, not that he knew of.
“Lord Withinghall!” Nicholas called to him from the top of the front steps of Glyncove Abbey as he started down toward him.
Edward greeted his friend.
“Did you have a good drive over?”
“As a matter of fact, we had a little incident.”
Edward proceeded to tell him about the shooting.
Nicholas creased his brow. “I will make sure to send some men with you when you go home.” He lifted his head as a thought seemed to occur to him. “Has your sheriff, Mr. Yarbrough, found out any more about your carriage being tampered with?”
“Other than the fact that Pinegar was present at the inn where I changed horses and that he was talking to someone fitting Hastings’s description, nothing. Pinegar was very quiet during the most recent sittings of Parliament. I hardly saw him. And I’ve not seen Hastings since your house party.”
“Well, it is very troubling. Whoever was shooting at you knew that you were coming here tonight.”
Indeed. Was there a spy in his own household? Or the Langdons’?
More guests were arriving, so they went inside, where Edward’s eye immediately caught Miss Langdon’s.
She was looking particularly beautiful. Her hair was decorated with tiny white ribbons, and she wore a lovely dress. He could not have said what color it was, for she smiled at him, and all thoughts seemed to flee his mind.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Leorah smiled at Lord Withinghall. He was looking particularly handsome, with a stylish new coat in a rich brown that contrasted nicely with his fawn-colored waistcoat and breeches. He was taller than anyone else in the room. But he was too far away for her to speak to, and two other gentlemen nearby began talking to him.
Nicholas made his way through the crowd, looking preoccupied as he glanced around the room. “Have you seen Father?”
“No. Why?”
“It seems someone shot at Lord Withinghall’s coach on the way here.”
“Oh dear!” Leorah’s stomach dropped.
“I want to let Father know. If you see him, tell him I’m looking for him.” He moved on through the crowd. Lord Withinghall had left the two men behind and was moving toward her.
As soon as he was near enough, she said, “My brother told me what happened to you on your way here. Are you sure you are not hurt?”
“I am surprised he would burden you with something like that. No, my coachman and I are not hurt.”
“It is no burden. But I do think you should stay here tonight and not go home in the dark.”
He stared into her eyes as if trying to read her thoughts.
“I am in earnest. It is easier to protect oneself in the daylight than in the dark. And we would all be horrified if anything happened to you.”
“You would?” His gaze never wavered from her face.
“You do so much for the poor and for children, for girls’ education . . .”
He said nothing. Did he have to look at her so intently?
“And Nicholas is very fond of you. Where is Nicholas? I shall speak to him about it.”
“Stay and talk with me. You can speak to Nicholas later.”
“I suppose I can.” Normally she would have bristled at being told what to do, but there was such a look of pleading in his eyes that she did not mind it.
“Have you been riding your beloved horse now that your wrist is healed?” He angled his body toward her, putting his back to the rest of the room.
“I have.” Her heart beat extra hard as she could see nothing in the room except Lord Withinghall. People were milling around and talking and even laughing, sipping port wine, but it was as if she and this tall, handsome man in front of her were the only two people in the room.
“Isn’t his name Bucky?”
“How did you know?” She couldn’t help smiling. All her senses were heightened, and her breathing was fast and shallow, like when she and Buccaneer were galloping through the meadow near her house. “Actually, his name is Buccaneer. My father gave him to me when I was twelve, and we have been best friends ever since.”
“Buccaneer. That is an interesting name. Do you have an affinity for pirates, then?”
Leorah smiled in what she hoped was a flirtatious manner. “I do like pirates, especially . . .” If she were truly bold and flirtatious, she would say, “Especially handsome ones,” but she could not bring herself to flirt that shamelessly, so she said, “Especially useful ones who save damsels who have been thrown from their horses.”
But apparently that had also been quite bold, as Lord Withinghall swallowed, his throat bobbing.
“Do you forgive me now for saying you reminded me of a pirate?”
“For thinking me daring and bold enough to defeat enemies at sea? Of course.” He smiled, revealing a glimpse of perfect white teeth.
They were standing very close. Any minute someone might notice and begin whispering about them, or worse yet, someone might come and insert themselves into their conversation. She cast about for something to ask him.
“Have you ever had a favorite horse?”
“I did. He was an Arabian with a blond mane, gentle but spirited. He is rather old now, and I no longer ride him. But he was a great comfort to me as a boy.”
“Yes, I can imagine.” She did not want to pry or make him uncomfortable, but she did want to hear him speak of personal matters. “Nicholas told me about your father and the duel. That must have been devastating for you.”
“Yes.” His jaw flinched, and he looked away from her, staring past her for a moment. “I was not only hurt, but I felt humiliated at what had brought about my father’s death. It was a great scandal, and my poor mother never got over it. She died a year later.”
“That is very sad.” How could she tell him that her heart broke for him at the thought of his pain? “Did your uncle and aunt, Mr. and Mrs. Dixon, come to stay with you then?”
“Yes. When I was not away at school, they were with me at Grimswood. I was very fortunate to have them, I now realize, but at the time, I did not appreciate them as they deserved.”
“I’m sure they understood.”
“But this is a Christmas party. We should not be speaking of such gloomy subjects.”
“I have not even asked about your aunt and uncle. They did not come with you?”
“No, they send their regards and apologies.”
“They are not in ill health, I hope.”
“Only a slight headache for my aunt, and my uncle has caught a cold. They decided it best to stay home.”
She asked some more about his uncle and aunt, and he spoke with real warmth and affection. “But you will tire of hearing all about me and my family.”
“I like learning more about you. I now know quite a bit more about you than just your great love for the writings of Hannah More.”
“You are teasing me now.”