Page 81 of A Kiss to Stop a Wedding
‘Beggin’ your pardon, sirs, but ’tis more than my life’s worth to go against His Lordship’s orders. You must come back tomorrow.’
The light disappeared. Conham stepped back and looked up, surveying the front of the building.
‘Well, what now?’ he said. ‘Is there another door or must we lay siege to this place?’
‘I don’t know of another way to get in, short of finding a boat,’ said Matt. ‘Confound it, we shall have to come back in the morning.’
They had almost recrossed the bridge when Matt heard a noise behind him. He stopped and turned.
‘By heaven, the wicket is open. Come on, Conham!’
They hurried back to find a buxom, fair-haired woman standing in the opening.
‘Mrs… Goole, isn’t it?’ said Matt, recognising the housekeeper.
‘You wanted to see Lord Whilton.’
‘Yes. We thought he had retired.’
‘No. Not yet.’ She stood back. ‘Come in, I will take you to him.’
* * *
Refreshments had been brought in and Mrs Gask was busy serving tea to her guests. Flora collected a cup and went to stand beside her aunt.
‘We should not stay too much longer,’ she murmured.
‘No, no, of course not,’ agreed Aunt Farnleigh. ‘You need to be rested for tomorrow, my dear.’
‘What is this?’ asked the Viscount, coming up ‘You are not thinking of leaving us yet, I hope?’
‘I think we must,’ Flora answered him coolly. ‘We all have a busy day ahead of us.’
‘I will not hear of it,’ he said, guiding her to a settee and sitting down with her. ‘We have hardly spoken three words together. I shall think you are avoiding me!’
Flora tried to make light of the idea. ‘Good heavens, what a nonsensical thought!’
‘Is it?’ Quentin laughed, but he went on softly, ‘You will not be able to avoid me tomorrow night, my love.’
He stroked the back of one finger down her cheek and an icy shiver ran through Flora. She closed her eyes, willing herself not to flinch.
‘The Lord Dallamire and Mr Talacre, my lord!’
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
At the servant’s unexpected announcement Flora’s eyes flew open, but still she could not believe what she was seeing. Matt was here, in the room, with a tall stranger at his shoulder. As if fearing his master’s wrath, the footman had quickly retired and shut the door. She felt a surge of elation. Matt met her eyes and they shared a look and a quick smile before his gaze moved on, sweeping over the rest of the company.
The Viscount was on his feet, glaring at the two new visitors.
‘What the devil is the meaning of this?’ he demanded.
Matt bowed with exaggerated politeness. ‘I beg your pardon—are we de trop?’
Flora tried to rise, but Quentin put a hand on her shoulder, keeping her in her seat.
‘You are interrupting a private dinner,’ he said coldly. ‘I ask you to leave, before I have you thrown out.’
‘Oh, I don’t think that would be wise, Lord Whilton,’said the stranger. ‘Not before you have heard what we have to say. But where are my manners?’ He pulled the hat off his auburn hair and bowed. ‘The Earl of Dallamire, at your service!’
