Chapter Twenty-One
For the past three days, Letitia had spent more time than usual in the nursery with Simon, trying to take her mind off Greyson, whom she hadn’t heard from. The last time she saw him was the day in front of the clock shop, when he asked her to go for ice at Gunter’s. Oh, how she wished she’d gone.
Sitting in the family drawing room, taking tea alone, she wished now that he’d call upon her.
Resting on the settee, sipping her warm tea, did nothing to ease her worry over him.
After making love several times, she loved him more than ever.
She believed those nights were a pivotal turning point in their relationship.
She wiped away her tears, angry at herself for shedding them, and wondered if she knew him as well as she thought.
“My lady,” Mr. Henry entered the room. “This just arrived for you.”
She held out her hand, and Mr. Henry handed her the note. “Thank you. That will be all.”
He bowed. “Yes, my lady.” He then left.
Letitia quickly unfolded the paper and read it.
Dear Lady Rutherford,
We want to let you know that our brother has been gone for three days. It dawned on us this morning that you may be wondering why you haven’t heard from him. No doubt he is away on some secret viscount business and will call on you upon his return.
Your friends,
Ladies Anastasia and Aurora
Letitia reread the letter, thinking it odd that they had sent it.
Oh, she was very glad they had, as it explained where Greyson was—or wasn’t.
At least his absence didn’t seem to have anything to do with her.
He wasn’t staying away because he didn’t want to see her.
He was away because he just was. He had mentioned his little disappearances, and she had thought nothing of them.
But for some reason, she had a niggling feeling that something was wrong.
There could be many reasons her intuition was worrisome. However, there was nothing she could do about it. The good thing was that if his sisters hadn’t heard from him, then all was well. Or was it?
For the next thirty minutes, she alternated between pacing the room and staring out the window, debating with herself about Greyson. She still hadn’t found any answers or solutions to their courtship, such as it was, when Mr. Henry returned. “Another note for you, my lady.”
“Please put it on the table.”
“Yes, my lady.”
She took one last look out the window at the late-afternoon sun, turned and walked to the table beside the settee, picked up the note, and frowned. The wax seal was that of the Duke of Tremont. She cracked the seal, unfolded the paper, and read:
Lady Rutherford,
I’m writing to you because Viscount Greyson was injured and is asking for you. He is staying with me at Tremont Manor. I have also sent a note to his family. Please come as soon as you can.
Tremont
Injured? What did he mean by that? And why was he at Tremont Manor instead of his own home? Please come as soon as you can. Her stomach coiled into a painful knot. His last sentence sounded ominous. As if time were short.
She left the family drawing room, hurried to her own chambers, and when she burst through the door, she called out, “Jane. I need my cream pelisse. And can you put my hair up?”
She hadn’t bothered with her hair today, except to brush it, since she hadn’t planned to leave the house.
Anxious to get to Tremont Manor, she wished she’d had Jane style her hair earlier in the day.
She sat at her dressing table. “A simple knot will suffice. And please make it quick. Oh, dear, I forgot to have the carriage brought around.”
“I’ll return in a moment,” Jane said, setting the hairbrush down on the dressing table and hurrying out the door. She returned a minute later. “The carriage is on its way.”
“Thank you, Jane.”
Jane’s nimble fingers worked magic on her long, thick tresses, and she was presentable in no time.
With her pelisse on, a matching hat and gloves, and her reticule gripped for dear life in her hands, she hurried down the stairs and into the entry hall.
“I will be at Tremont Manor if you need me. I don’t know when I’ll return,” she said to Mr. Henry.
“Yes, my lady,” Mr. Henry said as he opened the door. “Should Burke wait for you?”
She hadn’t considered that. “No. He should return home.”
He followed her down the stairs and spoke with her driver while a footman helped her into the carriage.
A moment later, they were caught in the flow of carriages.
She stared out the window, feeling sick to her stomach ever since reading the duke’s cryptic note.
Would his sisters be there when she arrived?
Was it that serious? Oh dear, she hugged herself, trembling.
Couldn’t Burke make the horses and carriage go any faster?
What was taking them so long? She was about to scream in frustration when the carriage pulled up to a grand manor house.
A footman opened the door, lowered the steps, and held out his hand to assist her in exiting. “Thank you.”
As she ascended the stairs, the door to the home opened, and the butler greeted her. “The duke and duchess are waiting for you in the drawing room. Please follow me.”
They went up a set of stairs and down the hall to a large burgundy drawing room, where she found not only Knight and his duchess but also Hunter, Anastasia, and Aurora. The room was quiet. The overall atmosphere had her hand flying to her chest.
“Everyone, please sit down,” said Tremont, or Knight, as she also knew him.
Everyone sat on various chairs and the two settees facing one another, Letitia sat next to Aurora.
Tremont remained standing; the expression on the side of his face she could see was somber, and his posture tense.
“You may hear me say things in this room that you must promise never to repeat.”
Anastasia sat opposite Letitia on the other settee with Hunter. They both looked worried. Aurora reached for her hand and held it tightly.
“First, I will tell you about the Black Knights.” Everyone in the room fell silent as he explained about them, what they did, and who they reported to.
Letita didn’t think her heart could survive if it beat any faster.
“We were trying to stop protestors from reaching Carlton House three nights ago when a skirmish broke out, and Greyson was stabbed in the thigh with a pitchfork.”
Gasps broke out among everyone in the room.
Aurora squeezed her hand tightly, but it didn’t matter.
All Letitia could think about was Greyson and seeing him.
She needed to see him and know he was well and alive.
Before she realized what she was doing, she tugged her hand from Aurora and stood. “I need to see him.”
Greyson’s sisters and Hunter stood saying the same thing.
“You can all see him. My physician has been caring for him, and a private nurse, highly recommended by Dr. Hanson, has been as well. I owe Dr. Hanson my life after sustaining injuries in the war. Please believe me when I say Greyson is receiving the best care available.”
Letitia was having difficulty breathing. Her heart and pulse were racing, and she felt lightheaded. She reached behind her for the settee and sank down. “What are you not saying?” she whispered, praying the room would stop spinning.
“The pitchfork was dirty. Dr. Hanson did everything he could to prevent infection in the wound. This morning, Greyson woke up delirious with a fever. Dr. Hanson came and unpacked and drained the wounds, cleaned them, and packed them with a foul-smelling cream he swears by. As do I. It’s what the good doctor used on my burns to help prevent infection and promote healing.
Dr. Hanson is doing all he can to save Greyson’s leg and his life.
” He paused to let everyone in the room comprehend the seriousness of the situation.
“He’s been thrashing about and calling out in his sleep. Your name is often spoken, Letitia.”
Tears trickled down her cheeks in a steady stream, and she didn’t care. There wasn’t a dry eye in the drawing room. Even Hunter wiped his eyes. She wasn’t surprised to see Hunter here, since he was Greyson’s best friend. But she was shocked Lady Charity wasn’t.
As much as Letitia wanted to see Greyson at once, she felt obligated to grant his sisters the honor of visiting first. “Anastasia and Aurora, go to him.”
Anastasia went into Hunter’s open arms and cried as he held her close, murmuring to her. Aurora was by a window, her head down, her arms wrapped around her middle, and her shoulders shook with silent tears.
“He’s been calling out for you,” Aurora said from across the room. “Go to him.”
Letitia swallowed back more tears, clogging her throat in hopes of speaking loudly enough to be heard, but nothing came out.
“If you’re ready, Letitia. I’ll take you to him,” the duchess said.
Letitia tried hard to remember her name but came up empty. “Thank you, Your Grace.”
“No need for formalities at a time such as this. Charlotte will do.”
“Thank you, Charlotte.” The duchess led her up a flight of stairs and down the corridor to the left.
Another time, if Letitia ever found herself inside Tremont Manor again, she would allow herself to take in the beautiful interior, the sweeping grand staircase winding off in two directions.
But today wasn’t the day for admiring architecture.
“This is his room,” Charlotte said, knocking, then opening the door a crack. “May we come in?”
A lady’s voice answered, “Yes.”
Charlotte opened the door wide and let Letitia enter first. “If you would like, I can stay with you.”
“Thank you. I would appreciate it.”
“Nurse Pendergrast, go to the kitchens and get something to eat. I’m sure you could use a break.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.” Nurse Pendergrast curtsied, checked on Greyson, then left the room, leaving the door slightly ajar.