Page 40 of Weave me a Rope
She gestured to the maid, who came to perch on the edge of the sofa. Fielder moved back against the wall, the picture of a footman waiting patiently for whatever command might come his way. John prowled the room, examining the few paintings that decorated the walls. In several places, a darker patch hinted at paintings that had been removed.
The butler looked at them helplessly, as if unsure of his next move.
“Lady Daphne?” Cordelia reminded him.
He jerked into motion and left the room.
Cordelia tried to stay calm as the minutes passed, but she could not help imagining all sorts of nasty scenarios. She should not have brought John and Gracie with her. Fielder could look after himself, and Cordelia was prepared to take the risk, but she should at least have left the other two with the carriage.
John continued to prowl, though he looked perfectly calm. The maid was rigid with fear, her jaw set and her eyes wide. Fielder’s usually grim expression had darkened still further by the time the door opened again, and then Lady Daphne erupted into the room, followed by Miss Faversham.
Lady Daphne rushed to Cordelia and took her hands. “Miss Milton! You came to see me! No one ever comes to see me. How kind you are.” She turned to her companion. “Miss Faversham, I told you Miss Milton was kind. Did I not tell you?”
“You did tell me, Lady Daphne, and I well remember how kind Miss Milton is,” Miss Faversham assured her. “Do you remember what we do when we have visitors?”
The lady giggled, and her eyes widened. “Call for tea,” she announced. She grinned at the butler. “We need refreshments for my guests. I have guests!” She bounced on her toes and giggled. The butler’s smile held considerable affection. “Yes, my lady,” he said.
“Lady Daphne,” Cordelia said, “may I present my companion, Miss Simpson, and my cousin, John Milton.”
“And who is that?” Lady Daphne asked, pointing to Fielder.
“Pointing is rude,” Miss Faversham whispered, and Lady Daphne snatched her hand back and hid it in her gown.
Cordelia pretended she hadn’t heard. “My footman’s name is Fielder.”
Fielder stared into thin air, and anyone who didn’t know him would not realize he was amused. Cordelia, though, saw the small twitch in the corner of his lips and the slight crinkling on the outer edge of his eyes.
“Now you introduce me,” Miss Faversham coached, and Lady Daphne obediently followed the instruction.
“Miss Milton, I would like to make known to you my companion, Miss Faversham. Miss Faversham, this is Miss Milton, Miss Simpson, and Miss Milton’s cousin, Mr…” She trailed off to address Miss Faversham. “Should it be ‘Mister Milton’ or ‘Master Milton’?”
“Call me John,” John suggested, and Lady Daphne looked to her companion for permission.
Miss Faversham shook her head. “‘Master Milton’,” she dictated. “Now let us sit down, my lady, so Master Milton may also sit.”
Once again, Lady Daphne obeyed her companion, taking a seat on a sofa set at right angles to Cordelia’s. Miss Faversham sat beside her, and John selected a chair.
The butler entered with a tea service, followed by footmen carrying trays. While they set the tea makings and plates offood on a table by Miss Faversham, Cordelia wondered how to introduce her questions. Should she just ask straight out? Should she talk about Spen and hope that Lady Daphne would volunteer the information she wanted?
But once the door closed behind the butler and footmen, Miss Faversham took the initiative. “Is it true that you are betrothed to Lord Spenhurst, Miss Milton?”
“I am,” Cordelia insisted. “Or, at least, I will be once he is of age. My uncle consents, but his father does not.”
“Lord Spenhurst says he will marry you,” Lady Daphne volunteered. “He does not want to marry me. My father says he will make him.” Lady Daphne frowned. “You are not blind,” she observed. “My father said you were blind.”
“I was, but I got better,” Cordelia explained. She turned her gaze to Miss Faversham. “What do the earl and Lord Deerhaven plan? Do you know?”
“Wicked things, Miss Milton. I believe you have come to find out where Lord Spenhurst is being held. He is here, Miss. If you are able to rescue him, will you please help, my lady?”
Chapter Sixteen
Chatter proved tobe nearly as gentle a nurse as Spen’s housekeeper. He set Spen’s broken arm, bound up his cracked ribs, and provided poultices for the bruises. Spen had tried to defend himself from the earl, but the men the earl had brought with him held Spen’s arms, and Spen had been handicapped by being chained in one place.
He seemed to recall that his own head guard intervened to stop the beating, but perhaps that was just a dream. Certainly, he had no memory of being carried from the room, and he had not seen either peer again since. Chatter told him they had left, but the little lady remained.
He spent more than a week of very uncomfortable days. On the third day, he insisted on the binding being removed from around his ribs. A good deep breath hurt but was not the stabbing pain Chatter warned him to watch for.
“You’ll do, my lord,” Chatter had assured him.
