Chapter 4 #3
Rory grinned and dimpled as he did so. “Perhaps the ladies have traveled some distance?” He glanced at the sisters, his gaze lingering on Anna, who looked ready to collapse or weep.
Then he looked carefully at Lizzie, his gaze oddly sharp, even searching.
But his tone remained light. “I know there is a generous spirit within you, auntie,” he added in chiding reprimand.
Lizzie had not a clue as to who this relation was.
But Eleanor sighed. “Yes, they have indeed traveled some distance. My nieces hail from Limerick.” She said the word as if it were offensive. Then she glared at them. “Come fortune-hunting, have you? I have not summoned you!”
Lizzie said firmly, “We are very well, thank you kindly, Aunt Eleanor, although as you can see, Anna is somewhat taxed from our journey.”
Eleanor harrumphed.
Rory glanced at Lizzie briefly and then at Anna again, his eyes impossible to read, before turning back to his aunt. Mildly, he murmured, “And will you not introduce me to such fair beauty?”
Eleanor snorted, then glared at Anna. “Fair beauty? Well, she used to be a beauty, but one would not know it today. Rory, these are the Fitzgerald sisters, Elizabeth and Annabelle, my brother Gerald’s girls.
” She turned to Lizzie and her sister. “This scoundrel is my nephew, his dear departed mother was Lord de Barry’s sister. ”
Rory swept them a laughing bow. “Rory McBane, at your service,” he said with extreme gallantry.
“Pay him no real mind, as he is an incorrigible rake,” Eleanor snapped. But Lizzie had already decided that, in spite of his modest manner of dress, he was indeed a ladies’ man.
Anna suddenly made a small sound and reached for Lizzie’s hand.
At that moment, she began to collapse, her knees clearly giving way.
Rory McBane leapt forward, and as Anna crumpled to the floor in a swoon, he lifted her into his arms. No longer smiling, he said tersely, “Come, Eleanor, your niece is ill.” And he strode with his burden quite familiarly through the house.
Lizzie rushed after him in real fear, Eleanor on their heels. “She has a weak constitution,” Lizzie claimed to his back, terrified now that Anna was ill. She knew the strain of their deception was becoming too much for her sister. “The journey was a difficult one for someone as frail as she is.”
Rory led them into an opulent salon of medium size, placing Anna on a sofa. “Leclerc,” he ordered. “Bring me salts!”
Lizzie knelt beside him, taking Anna’s hand. Rory looked up at her. “Does she often swoon?”
She hesitated, meeting his gaze, which was as green as an Irish spring day. “Sometimes,” she said, adding another lie to the existing pile of them.
Lizzie was watching him carefully, and she saw his gaze narrow in suspicion.
She sensed he was clever and astute, and she feared he was suspicious of them.
“She hasn’t felt well for several days,” Lizzie said quickly, telling herself that he could not possibly suspect the truth.
Anna was plump now, as she was five months into her pregnancy, but her gowns were high-waisted.
All had been let secretly out, and they continued to conceal her slightly bulging tummy.
Of course, in another month or so, she would be very obviously pregnant.
Lizzie continued to grip Anna’s hand, hoping she would wake up.
Rory stared searchingly at her for a moment and then said, “Eleanor, you should summon your physician.”
“No!” Lizzie cried, and she quickly smiled at him. “It is just a slight flu, really,” she told him. “Anna will be fine.”
Rory was clearly skeptical, and Lizzie waited in some dread. At that moment Leclerc entered, handing Rory the salts.
“Thank you,” Rory said, placing them directly against Anna’s nose.
Instantly she coughed, her eyes fluttering open.
He waved the salts there another time. As Anna coughed again, now wide awake, he slowly stood. Lizzie rushed to take his place and sit at Anna’s hip. Still gripping her hand, she met her sister’s gaze. “You have merely fainted,” she said softly.
“I’m sorry,” Anna managed to say.
“It’s all right.” Lizzie stroked her brow. Finally, she became aware of her aunt.
Eleanor stood beside Rory, her face a mask of pure displeasure. She said, “Well? Is the crisis over?”
Anna struggled to sit up. “I am so sorry, Aunt Eleanor,’ she breathed. “Please forgive me.” The color was returning to her cheeks.
“It is not your fault,” Lizzie said softly. She felt Rory’s gaze and saw him staring far too closely at Anna. Lizzie hoped he was admiring her beauty, and not trying to discover their secrets.
Slowly Lizzie stood and faced their aunt.
“I am sorry to intrude this way,” she said with vast dignity.
It was hard to be brave, but there was simply no choice.
“Mama insisted we come. We knew it would displease you, but we cannot disobey our mother. Now, as you can see, Anna is not well. Please, let us stay—just for a while.”
Eleanor’s eyes seemed black. “I thought so! There was no spring tour of Dublin! No one tours this city anymore! There was only a deceitful scheme on the part of your mother! I knew it.”
Rory took her arm as firmly as he had done earlier. “Auntie, your niece needs rest. Clearly she is not well and I know you will not turn her away.”
“Lydia Fitzgerald has dared to foist two of her three daughters on me!” Eleanor cried in outrage.
“And is that so terrible, really?” Rory asked her softly. He smiled charmingly at her. “Is it not a boon to have such feminine beauty in your home?”
“Maybe for you,” Eleanor snorted. “Are you taken with one of them? Elizabeth needs a husband,” she said.
Lizzie winced, feeling herself blush. Anna suddenly spoke, struggling to her feet as she did so. Rory dashed to her side to help her. “Aunt Eleanor?”
“Do not get up,” Rory exclaimed, chiding in his tone.
“I am fine,” Anna said, smiling at him. She turned her anxious gaze on Eleanor, and she became pleading.
“Perhaps we can be of some help to you. I play the piano and sing, Lizzie loves to read aloud and she is a fine cook. No one bakes a better pie. We won’t be a burden, really—we will be a help.
Perhaps you will enjoy our companionship. Oh, please, do let us stay!”
“I do bake a wonderful pie,” Lizzie said with a quick smile. “We would love to be companions to you, if you will but let us.”
“I have this scalawag as a companion,” Eleanor said tartly. “He never leaves me alone!”
Rory said gently, “You would benefit from such female companionship. It is long overdue and I cannot attend you as much as I would like to. You know I am off to Wicklowe in a few days.”
Lizzie was certain he meant Wicklow county and not the earl of Adare’s mansion in the Pale.
Eleanor faced him. “You are the one who thinks to benefit here, I can see that, you handsome rogue. And those affairs of yours shall only land you in the King’s tower!”
Rory raised his brows in mock exasperation.
“Do not worry about me, auntie,” he said.
“May I remind you I must go to London soon? I will not be back until midsummer. And then what will you do? I do not wish you to be lonely, auntie,” he cajoled.
Then he grinned. “And I confess I should not mind such pleasant company when I call.” His gaze wandered away from his aunt.
Lizzie was surprised when he winked at her.
Eleanor grunted. “You are off and about half of the time. I shall do as I always do—hie myself off to Glen Barry in Wicklow.” But she was clearly falling under his very charming spell.
Rory left Anna and took both of his aunt’s hands. “Do let them stay,” he murmured.
Lizzie had never seen such an open display of gentle persuasion.
Eleanor’s expression broke, softening. “We shall see.” She glared at Lizzie and Anna. “You may spend the night.” With that, she turned on her heel, striding quite briskly from the room.
Rory folded his arms over his broad chest and turned to face the sisters. There was no laughter in his eyes. Lizzie was afraid of whatever he was thinking. Very stiffly, she said, “Thank you, sir.”
His lashes lowered, hiding whatever speculation he might be entertaining, and he bowed. “I hope your sister feels better soon.” Without another glance, he left the room.
Lizzie’s knees instantly gave way. In utter relief, she collapsed on the sofa beside Anna, who wiped at the tears that she now let fall. “Oh, God,” Anna whispered. “She is a witch, a terrible witch! That was even worse than I imagined it would be!”
Lizzie took Anna’s hand. “It is very fortunate that you fainted.” She hesitated and added, “Well, I am afraid we owe Mr. McBane.”
Anna inhaled. “Yes, it seems that we do.”