Chapter 1 #3
“Lord Sebastian Markham to see Lady Slight?” He presented a card, wondering if he perhaps had the wrong address.
Just then, a wisp of a girl, who looked no older than twelve, came scurrying up the hall.
“Missus Finch, Cook says she needs ye right quick!”
The servant, Mrs. Finch apparently, harrumphed before spinning on her heel to hurry away.
“Take the gent to the painted room, Jem,” she threw over her shoulder as she disappeared in the direction the waif had come.
Sebastian found himself staring down at the young girl, who barely stood four and a half feet tall, making him feel like a giant by comparison. Now that he had a proper look at her, he suspected she was a few years older than his original estimation.
Something about her large hazel eyes spoke of worldly experience despite her slender frame.
A shock of copper-brown hair and a crowd of freckles added to the impression of youth, but her gaze was inquisitive and unwavering.
Even challenging, perhaps. She could easily be mistaken for a foundling, if she had not been dressed in the clothes of a maid.
“C’mon then,” she abruptly announced before leading him down the hall. Stopping at a door at the far end, she swung it open, then darted away without another word. Her skirts flapped soundlessly as she disappeared around a corner.
Sebastian shook his head, bemused. These were not the customary sort of servants one expected in the home of a wealthy viscountess, but it was off-season, so perhaps Harriet’s usual staff had departed for the country to prepare for her arrival?
He set these musings aside to enter the drawing room and stopped in delighted fascination.
The small gilded parlor was simply beautiful, more of a private space for the owner’s enjoyment than a public room.
Every surface had been covered with intricately painted floral patterns and deities frolicking.
On the smooth vertical space of the mantelpiece was a frieze of Romans going about their business while a musician strummed a string instrument.
It brought to mind a happier time, when he and Harriet had pored over the art in Avonmead’s attic with avid debate over brushstrokes, colors, and the subject of the paintings they beheld. Then he registered a presence seated in a regal blue-green armchair with a gilded frame.
He frowned, searching his memory for the name of the dainty blonde woman who stared back at him with the same startled recognition that must have been evident on his own face. Finally, he broke the silence with a polite bow.
“Lady Wood.”
The noblewoman rose gracefully, setting her book aside.
“Lord Sebastian. You have returned from Italy.”
His lips formed a polite yet warm smile.
“I have. I was hoping to speak with Lady Slight.”
“She is not at home at present,” Lady Wood replied. “I cannot say with certainty when she will return.”
A flicker of unexpected disappointment moved within him. After all the anticipation leading up to today, Harriet was not even at home?
“I see. Then perhaps you would be so kind as to convey a message?” His voice remained pleasantly neutral, though irritation simmered beneath the surface. “I will call again tomorrow.”
Lady Wood regarded him carefully, her delicate features thoughtful, almost hesitant.
“I shall deliver your message, of course. But, Lord Sebastian, I feel compelled to say …” She paused, her expression unreadable, as if weighing her words. Sebastian waited. “Lady Slight … no longer entertains … visitors … in her home.”
It was stated with deliberation, as if she were warning him away.
Sebastian’s frown deepened ever so slightly as he tried to decipher the meaning of her words.
No longer entertains visitors? Had Harriet withdrawn entirely from society?
And yet, here was Lady Wood, sitting alone in Harriet’s drawing room, as though she belonged there.
Why was Lady Wood unattended at Harriet’s home? Was she in residence?
Before he could stop himself, he raked a hand through his disheveled hair, an old habit of his when confronted with the tiresome subtleties of high society. After so many years abroad, he had forgotten how vexing it was to navigate the things left unsaid.
“There is no need for entertainment,” he said at last, his tone carefully measured.
It seemed Lady Wood was warning him off from pursuing her hostess like some sort of besotted lordling.
“I merely wish to put a question to her. About … just … something from our youth.” He did not know how to explain why he was here.
He had expected to be greeted by a pompous butler, then to put his request to Harriet and depart.
Instead, he had found himself within a rather eclectic household, and Harriet was not even present.
Lady Wood inclined her head. “Then I shall inform her of your return.”
Sebastian bowed once more, his head full of odd observations as he made his departure and wondered at the strangeness of Harriet’s home. This morning had not unfolded in the manner he had expected.