will follow us, ma’am?’
‘Too kind,’ Lavinia murmured in failing tones, wishing that she did not feel as faint as she sounded. She laid her hand on his extended arm. Beneath the fabric of his coat, his muscles felt as hard and unyielding as the expression on his face.
Thurlby ushered his charges into the inn, where the landlord was waiting to attend them. ‘A private parlour at once, if you please,’ said his lordship, speaking rather more haughtily than was his wont. ‘And have the goodness to arrange for a conveyance to be prepared to take these ladies back to Thurlby Hall.’
‘At once, my lord,’ replied the landlord. ‘Shall I bring tea?’
‘Tea?’ exclaimed the earl, for all the world as if the man had suggested bringing them a pint of gin each.
‘That would be delightful,’ said Isobel, smiling sweetly at the landlord. ‘I am parched and I am sure that Lavinia must be too.’ Lavinia glanced warily at the nobleman, his face rigid with disapproval as he held the parlour door open, but said nothing.
‘And now,’ said the earl, speaking into the ominous silence which had fallen after the door had closed. ‘Perhaps one of you will have the goodness to explain to me what the devil is going on. Why are the two of you travelling on the common stage? How have you managed to become acquainted with someone like Benjamin Twizzle? And why the …’ He bit back the expletive that had been on his lips. ‘Why upon earth are you masquerading as someone else, Miss Muir?’
The two young ladies glanced at one another. Lavinia knew that as Lady Thurlby’s goddaughter, she ought to be the one to speak, but the story was so complicated that she could not think where to begin. Before she could say anything, the door opened and the tea tray was brought in and set down. The earl shook his head dismissively when offered a cup. Isobel sat down to pour for herself and Lavinia, carefully keeping her eyes on the tray.
‘Well?’ said the earl, after the servant had closed the door behind her.
‘Well, I … I …’ Lavinia began.
She was saved by a knock at the door. The earl approached it with hasty strides, threw it open and demanded, ‘ Now what?’
An enormous bouquet of flowers appeared to enter on its own. It was not until it had come right into the room that the servant carrying it could be seen. ‘Pardon me, my lord,’ she said, ‘but these came for the young lady.’
‘For which young lady?’ Thurlby asked ominously.
‘Mr Twizzle, the young gentleman what was in the yard, said that they would be for Mrs Hedges, my lord,’ the girl replied. Lavinia’s heart sank right down into her boots.
‘He did, did he?’ said Thurlby, looking ominously at his mother’s goddaughter. ‘And what would he know of the matter?’
‘He just said that they would be for her, like all the others,’ answered the maid, blithely unaware of the violent thoughts that Lavinia was directing towards her and Mr Twizzle. The girl laid them down on a side table, curtsied, and hurried out.
‘From an admirer?’ said the earl, his tone deceptively mild as he wandered over to the table that held the flowers. ‘“Like all the others”, presumably.’
Lavinia glanced at Isobel, who looked up at her from her place behind the teapot, an unmistakable appeal for help in her eyes. Lavinia understood all too well. Thurlby could not possibly refuse to take in his mother’s goddaughter. Another young lady, uninvited and engaged in misbehaviour, however, could be sent back from whence she came without delay or compunction.
Lavinia squared her shoulders, a not unbecoming flush staining her cheeks. ‘A lady cannot determine who admires her and who does not,’ she said. Isobel handed her her tea, which she took with hands that trembled so much that she was afraid that she would slop it all over the floor.
‘Possibly,’ his lordship agreed. He looked down at the card, and his expression darkened. ‘Especially when a man
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