husband’s direction, adding with a long-suffering sigh, “I suppose we must invite him to dine.”
“Only polite, dear ma’am,” the earl said, heaving himself to his feet and heading with some alacrity for the door.
Alasdair turned from the French doors and his contemplation of the winter-bare garden when his host entered the library. “My lord.” He bowed. “Forgive this unheralded visit but I’m on a commission for Emma. It won’t take me very long to execute.”
“Oh, but you must dine with us, dear fellow,” the earl said, making it sound more like an appeal than an invitation. “We’re just about to sit down to dinner, and my lady begs that you’ll join us.”
Alasdair had a shrewd idea of how his arrival would have been greeted by the redoubtable Lady Grantley, and his sardonic smile flitted across his mouth. But he said, “That’s very kind of you, sir. However, I have taken rooms at the Ship in Lymington and bespoken dinner there. I just need a few minutes in Emma’s bedchamber and dressing room. She’s convinced she’s left behind a book of poetry that she says she cannot do without. I believe Ned gave it to her, and she’s very distressed to have mislaid it.”
“Oh, indeed we cannot allow you to dine at an inn,” the earl declared with unaccustomed firmness. “Dreadful cooks in general … no … no … you’ll do much better to take your meal with us, dear fellow. Lady Grantley’s cook is quite tolerable—really quite tolerable. You shall dine first and then fetch Emma’s book. Come, sir. Come along.” He urged his guest to the door.
Alasdair yielded gracefully and steeled himself to greet his reluctant hostess.
“See here, ma’am, I’ve persuaded Lord Alasdair to dine with us,” the earl said boisterously as he reentered the salon, where his wife sat with her embroidery. “He’s come on a commission for Emma. She’s mislaid some book that Ned gave her … thinks it may still be in her bedchamber here … sherry, Alasdair?”
“Thank you, sir.” Alasdair bowed to Lady Grantley. “I’m on my way to friends in Dorset, ma’am, andEmma asked me to stop here on my way. I trust it doesn’t inconvenience you.”
“Hardly,” Lady Grantley said. “I’ll have a small sherry, Grantley.” She fixed Alasdair with a gimlet eye. “I fear you will be disappointed in your errand, Lord Alasdair. The housekeeper has turned out Emma’s bedchamber thoroughly, and I don’t believe she found any of Emma’s possessions still there.”
“Emma has slept in that bedchamber since she left the nursery, ma’am, and I believe she had certain private places that are perhaps unknown to the housekeeper.” Alasdair took a glass from his host. “She gave me precise instructions where to look. Both there and in her dressing room.” He sipped sherry and offered the lady a benign smile.
Lady Grantley huffed a little but could find no legitimate objection.
“I trust dear Emma’s settling down in London,” Lord Grantley said.
“I trust she’s setting about finding herself a husband,” Lady Grantley stated acidly. “A girl of two and twenty! She’s almost on the shelf.”
The return of the butler to announce dinner saved Alasdair from having to find a reply to this declaration. He gave his arm to his hostess and escorted her into the dining room.
Throughout the interminable and indifferent meal, he exerted himself to be charming, although he was plagued by memories of so many other meals he had eaten at this board, where for almost twelve years he had been as at home as Ned and Emma. Meals filled with laughter and wit. Meals where Emma had sat in her place across from him, her eyes sparkling, her hair taking on myriad colors beneath the candelabra. And Ned … Ned had sat to the right of his fatheruntil he had taken his father’s place at the table’s head. Ned had always had some story to tell, some witty joke. And the three of them had teased each other, and mocked each
“Only polite, dear ma’am,” the earl said, heaving himself to his feet and heading with some alacrity for the door.
Alasdair turned from the French doors and his contemplation of the winter-bare garden when his host entered the library. “My lord.” He bowed. “Forgive this unheralded visit but I’m on a commission for Emma. It won’t take me very long to execute.”
“Oh, but you must dine with us, dear fellow,” the earl said, making it sound more like an appeal than an invitation. “We’re just about to sit down to dinner, and my lady begs that you’ll join us.”
Alasdair had a shrewd idea of how his arrival would have been greeted by the redoubtable Lady Grantley, and his sardonic smile flitted across his mouth. But he said, “That’s very kind of you, sir. However, I have taken rooms at the Ship in Lymington and bespoken dinner there. I just need a few minutes in Emma’s bedchamber and dressing room. She’s convinced she’s left behind a book of poetry that she says she cannot do without. I believe Ned gave it to her, and she’s very distressed to have mislaid it.”
“Oh, indeed we cannot allow you to dine at an inn,” the earl declared with unaccustomed firmness. “Dreadful cooks in general … no … no … you’ll do much better to take your meal with us, dear fellow. Lady Grantley’s cook is quite tolerable—really quite tolerable. You shall dine first and then fetch Emma’s book. Come, sir. Come along.” He urged his guest to the door.
Alasdair yielded gracefully and steeled himself to greet his reluctant hostess.
“See here, ma’am, I’ve persuaded Lord Alasdair to dine with us,” the earl said boisterously as he reentered the salon, where his wife sat with her embroidery. “He’s come on a commission for Emma. She’s mislaid some book that Ned gave her … thinks it may still be in her bedchamber here … sherry, Alasdair?”
“Thank you, sir.” Alasdair bowed to Lady Grantley. “I’m on my way to friends in Dorset, ma’am, andEmma asked me to stop here on my way. I trust it doesn’t inconvenience you.”
“Hardly,” Lady Grantley said. “I’ll have a small sherry, Grantley.” She fixed Alasdair with a gimlet eye. “I fear you will be disappointed in your errand, Lord Alasdair. The housekeeper has turned out Emma’s bedchamber thoroughly, and I don’t believe she found any of Emma’s possessions still there.”
“Emma has slept in that bedchamber since she left the nursery, ma’am, and I believe she had certain private places that are perhaps unknown to the housekeeper.” Alasdair took a glass from his host. “She gave me precise instructions where to look. Both there and in her dressing room.” He sipped sherry and offered the lady a benign smile.
Lady Grantley huffed a little but could find no legitimate objection.
“I trust dear Emma’s settling down in London,” Lord Grantley said.
“I trust she’s setting about finding herself a husband,” Lady Grantley stated acidly. “A girl of two and twenty! She’s almost on the shelf.”
The return of the butler to announce dinner saved Alasdair from having to find a reply to this declaration. He gave his arm to his hostess and escorted her into the dining room.
Throughout the interminable and indifferent meal, he exerted himself to be charming, although he was plagued by memories of so many other meals he had eaten at this board, where for almost twelve years he had been as at home as Ned and Emma. Meals filled with laughter and wit. Meals where Emma had sat in her place across from him, her eyes sparkling, her hair taking on myriad colors beneath the candelabra. And Ned … Ned had sat to the right of his fatheruntil he had taken his father’s place at the table’s head. Ned had always had some story to tell, some witty joke. And the three of them had teased each other, and mocked each
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