Chapter Twenty-Nine
P
Linus paced the length of the room. Scorseby had come to further his cause with Arabella; Linus was certain of it. He seemed a decent enough person, yet Linus didn’t like the idea of his courting her. He didn’t like it at all.
Persephone’s voice floated in from the doorway. “From the look of things, I’d say you have been informed about your newest visitor.”
Linus was in no mood to match her laughing tone. “Scorseby knows we have a local physician. I said as much in my letter to the dowager.”
“I doubt he’s come for professional reasons.”
Linus doubted that as well, though he wasn’t ready to admit it. “I should go greet him.”
Persephone didn’t bother hiding her grin.
“You’re laughing at me,” he assessed out loud.
She nodded slowly and with emphasis.
Linus shook his head. “I’m only going to greet the new arrival.”
“And study your competition,” Persephone added under her breath.
“Greet a guest.” Linus’s firm insistence inspired a laugh from his sister.
“Well, then, make certain you ‘greet’ the dowager as well. She too has offered Miss Hampton a future and is in as much of a position to be accepted as Dr. Scorseby is.”
“Has his suit progressed as far as that?” Linus hadn’t heard as much.
Much of Persephone’s laughter dissipated.
“Not as far as I have heard. I do, however, believe both Miss Hampton and the dowager countess are happy with their arrangement. The good doctor would have to offer enough happiness to pull his would-be bride away from a situation she is already perfectly content accepting. That is a significant obstacle when a lady has lived a life of uncertainty.”
Linus had not thought of things from that angle. “A doctor would have income enough to provide a wife with stability.”
Persephone shook her head. “Miss Hampton has stability, my dear. And before you lodge any further guesses, she also has kindness, respect, friendship, and purpose in a household. Any gentleman who harbors ambitions of pulling her from her current position must offer all of that and more.”
Linus knew perfectly well what his sister meant, but he was not ready to discuss the state of his heart nor offer conjecture on the state of Miss Hampton’s. “He must offer diamonds, no doubt.”
Persephone smiled a little and swatted at him. “You are impossible sometimes.”
“I do my best.”
“I will stay in here.” She took a seat. “You go ‘greet your guest.’”
Linus exited the bedchamber and reached the threshold of the drawing room, intending to do his duty as host. He didn’t get a single step inside though. Scorseby stood near Arabella. The two were deep in conversation. This was a far more personal arrangement than he’d expected to find.
Of course, Scorseby was not holding her hand, something she seemed to enjoy when Linus had done it only a few minutes earlier. Linus knew with certainty that Scorseby had an interest in Arabella, but his suit did not seem to have progressed over the past weeks.
He stepped back into the corridor unnoticed. His mind spun, and his heart thudded out a rhythm of uncertainty.
You are Lieutenant Lancaster, he silently reminded himself. Cowering before a battle is not in your nature.
He did not know the extent of her feelings for Scorseby, but he knew well enough his own hopes and wishes.
He further knew Arabella’s character well enough to believe she would not have held his hand nor had so personal a conversation as they’d shared, veiled though it had been in pronouns and hypotheticals, if her heart belonged to another.
Adam had spoken of the strength to be found in the companionship of a lady who lifted one’s burdens, who brightened even the darkest corridors of one’s life. Linus had found that in Arabella. With her hand in his, he’d even managed to speak of Evander, something he could seldom endure.
If there was any chance of fully laying claim to her affection, if he could offer her the strength and comfort she offered him, if there was any chance she might learn to love him, then he did not intend to let Scorseby make his case unopposed.
Here, away from the interference of her aunt and uncle and the potential entrapment of the eager gossip to be found at house parties, Linus resolved to see if there was any chance he might be granted a place in her heart.
q
Arabella stood with a blanket at the ready as the duke, butler, footman, and coachman carried Charlie, careful of his heavily splinted legs, into the drawing room.
While the poor young man was still in a fair bit of pain, Mater had sensed in him an impatience to be included in the evening’s conversations and diversions.
“Being the youngest, and by so many years, has left him a little sensitive about being overlooked or excluded,” Mater had explained. “I wish I could say those worries were unfounded, but I fear I did not realize how lonely he often was.”
Dr. Scorseby had agreed that so long as Charlie was carried to and from his bedchamber and agreed to keep quite still, he could join the family.
They had Charlie settled and as comfortable as he could be in a matter of moments.
He was in remarkably good spirits, all things considered.
Mater took up her place beside her youngest and saw to his every need.
The duke and duchess sat on the other sofa in the room, her hand in his.
Miss Artemis chose a seat a bit removed.
Whether she was feeling petulant or simply wished for a bit of privacy, Arabella did not know, neither was she afforded an opportunity to interact with the young lady enough to sort the matter out.
Dr. Scorseby’s full attention was on Arabella, anticipating all of her possible needs—tea, a place to sit, a lap blanket. While the efforts were meant as a kindness, she, nonetheless, found them a touch aggravating.
Why was that? She was unused to people looking after her, which was certainly part of her annoyance.
But Mater had looked after her toward the end of the house party when she had been ill, and that had not irritated her.
Linus had sat with her during her convalescence, and that had been a welcome salve to her discomfort.
Was it the oddity of being aided when she was fully healthy that bothered her, or was it the fact that Dr. Scorseby, in particular, offered the help?
Linus, who had not joined them for dinner, arrived in the drawing room some thirty minutes after everyone else had.
He strode in with confidence and authority.
How easily she could picture him issuing orders to a crew, overseeing a journey across treacherous waters.
A man of his capability could do anything he put his mind to.
Why, then, did he insist he would make such an incompetent landowner?
His eyes met hers as he crossed toward her, pleasure sparkling in their depths. She felt an answering blush steal across her features. In the moment before he arrived at her side, Dr. Scorseby took his place there.
“It is a pleasure to have everyone assembled, is it not?” Dr. Scorseby said. “And it is a relief that young Charlie is well enough to join us.”
Arabella nodded. Nothing in his tone was truly off-putting, neither was his presence odious or unpleasant.
Yet she wished he hadn’t sat beside her.
The memory of being at Linus’s side in the sickroom had filled her all day with the oddest mixture of hope and regret.
He was not the sort of person to show her such personal affection if he felt nothing but friendship for her.
Leaving the comfort of his company and his tender touch had left an ache in her heart, one she felt certain could never fully be healed by anything other than being at his side once more.
But Dr. Scorseby was there instead.
“Good evening, Miss Hampton.” Linus gave an acceptable bow and offered another to Mater, the duchess, and Artemis, then dipped his head to each gentleman. “My apologies for being late. I was detained on estate business.”
“You have truly taken up the mantle it seems.” Arabella was pleased at the idea. Perhaps the pain he felt here at being reminded again and again of his brother was beginning to ease.
“The mantle has taken up me.” Linus chuckled. He never seemed more himself than when his expression and tone turned lighter. “I brought Charlie here with every intention of forcing him to oversee this wretched mess, but he went and threw himself off a roof to avoid the work.”
“That sounds about right,” Artemis muttered.
“Hush,” Her Grace said.
Linus moved past Arabella and placed himself within easy conversational distance of Charlie. “It’s a shame you took such drastic actions.” He pointedly eyed Charlie’s splinted legs. “I was going to invite the Nappers and their daughters over for an impromptu bit of dancing.”
Charlie laughed. “Well worth it, I assure you.”
Mater closed her eyes for the briefest of moments, a look of absolute relief crossing her features. Arabella knew the expression for what it was: the easing of a worried mind. Charlie had sustained a number of injuries, but his ability to jest about them spoke volumes of his quick healing.
“You seemed to enjoy the attention of the Napper sisters,” Linus said, sitting in the chair opposite Mater’s. “Has your opinion changed so drastically?”
Charlie shrugged. “They were interesting enough, I suppose.”
“Interesting?” Linus shook his head. “That is how one might describe a treatise on the changing of crops or a lecture on mathematics. One ought to feel something far deeper and more personal about a potential love interest.”
Charlie’s brow pulled low as his eyes narrowed on Linus. “Love interest? How did we jump to that?”
Linus didn’t seem the least put out by the objection. He leaned against the arm of his chair, his posture growing a little casual. “Simply an observation.” His gaze flicked to Arabella.