Chapter 3
James grew impatient while waiting for Florence to return.
He considered getting out of bed to find her, but he had no clothes on and had to rule out that option.
Besides, he would probably collapse before getting to the door.
A snore emanated from the plump chair beside the hearth, reminding him that her grandfather was in the room.
Was the old man really asleep or had he been pretending in order to listen in on their conversations?
No matter.
He was serious about courting the man’s granddaughter, although he was going to wait until he caught the villain who wanted him dead before making any public declarations.
The room seemed to brighten when she walked back in.
“Where did you go?”
“To fetch your letter. Here it is... James,” she said, her face flushed from rushing to her bedchamber and back.
He smiled at her. “Thank you, Florence.”
She appeared shy and flustered. “I had better see about getting you clothes to wear. If yours cannot be repaired, I’ll look for something among our servants’ livery to hold you over. I know it is hardly a proper replacement for your army uniform, but it is a uniform of a sort.”
Now that was an interesting idea.
“No, stay another moment. Hmmm.”
“What is that hmmm about?” She settled in the seat beside his bed and eyed him curiously.
“You read all of Lord Meade’s letter, did you not?”
She cleared her throat. “Um, yes. I told you that I had. But only because–”
“I am not admonishing you, Florence. I would have done the same had our situations been reversed. What matters is that you know I am to provide Lord Meade with some vital information at Sir Peter Somerville’s ball.”
She nodded. “I am sure my grandfather would have no objection to your riding with us, assuming you are fit enough to attend. However, it is less than a week away and I do not think you will be in any condition to travel.”
“I will be.”
“Oh, is that so? Because you have decreed it?” She laughed as she rolled her eyes. “I think you are just stubborn enough to manage it. We’ll have to find you formal attire. I can go to Brighton first thing tomorrow and–”
“To find me a tailor? It isn’t necessary, nor would I ever allow you to make this dangerous trip on my behalf.”
She shook her head. “It is only dangerous to you. I’ve told you, our brigands do not make a habit of murdering their victims.”
He frowned. “Do not be lulled into a false sense of safety. It is not such a far step from stealing one’s valuables to committing murder.”
“Which is why Ethan always accompanies me on my trips to Brighton. I have to return there anyway to pick up my gown for the ball.”
“Don’t go, Florence. Can you not send a servant for that task?”
“Yes, but the gown might need a minor fix or two, and it is most convenient to have it done there on the spot.” She sighed when he continued to frown at her. “Well, I suppose I can easily tuck in a stitch or two myself, if needed.”
He nodded. “That eases my mind greatly. If those scoundrels who shot me are still in the area, I–”
“But you seemed certain they were headed back to London.”
He shrugged. “I could be wrong. What concerns me is that if you saw them, then they probably saw your carriage and might have seen you hopping down from it to come to my rescue. So, I would rather you stayed close to home until I have met with Lord Meade and addressed the matter. That’s all I am saying. ”
“What do you plan to do?”
“Not sure yet, but it is to my advantage if the parties involved continue to wonder whether I am dead or alive.”
She shifted even closer so that her body was pressed to the mattress as their discussion drew her in. “How are you to hide your identity if you appear at the ball?”
“Who says I must come as myself? I could attend as your grandfather’s valet or perhaps as one of your footmen.”
Her lovely emerald eyes widened again. “That is ridiculous.”
“Why? Lord Meade will recognize me and find a discreet way to approach me. Meanwhile, few others will notice me, for the high and mighty rarely deign to look closely at their inferiors. Who among them will pay attention to a Swann footman?”
She laughed. “Oh, I think the women will immediately notice you. But why bother with the subterfuge?”
“It will allow me to prowl around the Somerville estate using the servants’ stairs and back hallways so that no one is going to know I am there until I am ready to reveal my identity.
It will also allow me to overhear gossip about the guests because those who serve the Upper Crust often see and hear things that we might not.
I would not be surprised if the servants already know who is trying to interfere with my mission. ”
“Your nemesis would be awfully stupid to talk about it openly and risk a dozen people pointing fingers at him.”
James shrugged. “I’m not saying he will be reckless, just remarking on the fact that servants often know things we do not. I think my plan is an excellent one.”
“If you do say so yourself,” she muttered.
“Just get me something suitable for a footman to wear. Do you have anything that might fit me?”
She sighed. “I’m not sure. You are bigger than anyone currently on our staff, even bigger than Ethan and he’s a bull of a fellow. We would not have been able to lift you into our carriage if not for his brawn.”
“Ethan’s father was in service before he passed on and was about the same size as you,” her grandfather said, now rising from his chair and ambling toward the bed.
The elderly man was of average height and slender, obviously more of a scholar than an old warrior.
He had the same color eyes as Florence, but his hair was white and thinning.
“Lord Swann, you’re awake,” James remarked, noting the obvious. “Your granddaughter tells me you are the one who stitched me up. Probably saved my life with your fine handiwork. Please allow me to express my gratitude.”
“None required, my good fellow.” He waved a hand in dismissal and gave a wheezing laugh. “Glad I could be of help, and quite relieved Florence wasn’t the one who shot you.”
“Grandfather!”
Lord Swann laughed. “Just teasing you, love. You’d never be so foolish as to shoot a duke, especially an unmarried one.”
“I would never shoot anyone,” she grumbled, her cheeks turning crimson at the suggestion James was marriageable. “Besides, Captain Ryder is not the duke but his emissary.”
“Ah, my mistake. I must have slept through that part,” her grandfather said, eyeing him intently. “Forgive the error, Captain Ryder.”
James realized he had not fooled her grandfather who had been awake the entire time and must have overheard their conversations.
What gave him away?
“I despise having to carry that lady’s pistol in my reticule,” Florence continued to grumble, unaware of the silent exchange between the two men.
“But it is necessary,” James warned, for he had been trained to be prepared for the worst and always remain on his guard, a teaching that had served him well for survival in battle. “The world is not a kind place, Florence.”
“I know,” she admitted. “But I go nowhere without an armed footman close by, and our carriage driver also keeps a weapon or two at the ready.”
“Still,” he cautioned, “that pistol ought to remain with you at all times when you are on the road, even if you never have cause to use it. I hope you never do. But this makes me like my idea all the more.”
“About coming with us to the ball as our servant?” she asked.
He nodded. “The disguise is doubly useful. If there is no need to protect myself, then I can better protect you.”
The remark had Florence laughing again. “Who on earth would wish to harm me?”
“Seriously, Florence? Have I not made the danger to you clear?”
She snorted.
“The villain who wants me dead will not hesitate to use you against me if he senses I like you.”
“There is a simple solution to this,” she said with marked irritation. “Do not like me.”
“All right. Done. I shall forget the angel who nursed me back to health. I shall ignore any feelings I have for you.”
“Good.”
He sighed. “Florence, I could no more stop liking you than the sun could stop shining or the moon could stop glowing.”
Next, he turned to her grandfather. “I would like permission to court your granddaughter.”
Florence made a strangled sound. “Ignore him, Grandfather. He is delirious.”
The old man patted her arm before turning back to James and addressing him. “I shall be available whenever you are ready to speak to me.”
Florence shot to her feet. “Grandfather! Do not indulge him. How can he possibly feel anything toward me when he has been lying in this bed like a dead fish since I brought him here?”
James laughed. “You certainly know how to flatter a man.”
She winced. “Sorry, but is it not the truth? We know nothing about each other.”
“We know he has fine boots and an even finer horse,” her grandfather interjected. “We also know he is a man of importance.”
“Why? Because he is acquainted with the Duke of Wellbourne?” she retorted.
Her grandfather chuckled. “I would say Captain Ryder is very well acquainted with him.”
She stared at James. “Obviously, important people trust you. But I fear their trust in your judgment might be misplaced. After all, what do you know about me? Nothing,” she said, responding to her own question that was meant to be rhetorical.
“If you did know me, then you would realize I am rather inept around men. Having to make small talk is very hard for me.”
James cast her an affectionate look. “You seem to have no trouble talking to me.”
“That is different.”
“How so?”
She sighed. “It just is. But in social situations, I am lost. I cannot pretend to find superficial ton conversations scintillating, nor can I pretend to be fascinated by the gentlemen who initiate them. I shall never be sought after or declared the belle of the ball. Not that I care, since I have yet to meet any man at these elegant affairs who makes my heart flutter.”
“And what of the men you meet outside of those affairs?” James asked.
“Such as you?”
He nodded. “Florence, do I make your heart flutter?”