Page 8 of An Honorable Deception
Enemies she hadn’t even known she had. Enemies she’d gained because she’d dared to ask questions. She’d always known questions would be her undoing. She just hadn’t thought it would be now, this way.
She swallowed. “I do appreciate your care ... but you have no reason to put yourself to any trouble for my sake. Please, deliver me home, and—”
“No.” No equivocation. No discussion. The lady somehow delivered the single word as if it were beginning, middle, and end. Her smile made it seem like she’d decided on her next hat, not on protecting a stranger from murderous criminals. “As it happens, my husband and I were going home to Fairfax Tower tomorrow anyway, and we were already bringing Lady Lavinia Hemming along with us. Another guest is no trouble.”
“Another guest hasn’t brought gunmen into your life.”
Something strange flickered through her light brown eyes. “Nevertheless. We have no doubt the Lord has crossed our paths for a purpose. Lord Hemming has already volunteered his private train car for the journey, so you will be as comfortable as possible, even given your wounds. We’ll leave at first light. I’ll send another note to await your parents’ return, letting them know where you are.”
Would it not have looked infinitely strange, she’d have asked her not to. Even so, she couldn’t contain another wince. “What did your first note say? You didn’t tell them I’d been shot, did you?”
They’d never let her out of the house again. Especially if they learned this had to do with Samira.
With any luck, her question would simply sound like a devoted daughter not wanting to alarm her parents. And perhaps it did, because Lady Marigold gave her a reassuring smile. “I only said that you’d been injured and we brought you here. I may have made it sound like you took a tumble and turned your ankle. Mr. A led us to believe that your parents were unaware of your contact with him and hence of the situation that led to this. We thought it wisest topreserve the illusion for you, for now. Was that the right decision?”
She let her eyes slide shut. “Yes. Thank you.”
“And now I can simply say that we had such a delightful time talking that I invited you to keep me company during my confinement, and you accepted. They may be a bit irritated, but hopefully not so much that they chase after you before you have a chance to recover.” This time, the smile Alethia opened her eyes again to see looked more like a grin, young and cheeky. “I am at least considered a reputable chaperone, if too bold in my styles, given my condition. Your parents shouldn’t object to you being in my company.”
No doubt Alethia’s cheeks looked as pink as they felt, but she didn’t bother arguing. Especially since Mama had said more than once this summer that she must brave seeking out Lady M’s attention soon, so that they could then finagle an introduction to her brother. Father had apparently tried to strike up a conversation with Fairfax in Lords, but the young earl always seemed to arrive at the last possible moment and slip out of the Sessions before Father could catch him up.
“I’m certain they won’t object,” she murmured. “Though I maintain that it is asking too much of you.”
“You didn’t ask it.”
“Mr. A did.”
Another smile, this one mysterious. “Mr. A has helped us in the past. Let’s call this a favor to him rather than to you, shall we?”
The Imposters’ fees were steep enough that their payment to him ought to have been all the favor he required. But perhaps he’d gone above and beyond in whatever they’d hired him to do. That was a pleasant thought. “Then ... thank you.”
“And would you like to dictate instructions on what your servants should pack for you?”
“Oh. Yes, please.” If she was going to be spending any length of time in the windswept north, then she’d want her own items of comfort with her. Samira’s shawls, namely.
Marigold stood and moved over to a little desk against the far wall, using quick motions to pull out paper and a pencil. As she did so, a knock sounded on the door, and the lady abandoned her writing supplies to go and answer it.
She didn’t open it wide, and she kept her body in the space she created, which made Alethia think it a man who stood there even before he came into view. He leaned into the opening, shoulder against the doorframe, towering over Lady Marigold by more than a head.
Her brother, Lord Fairfax. She’d seen him across many a ballroom—it was impossiblenotto notice him. He was tall, yes, though no taller than many other men. But he was broader by far, and the shirtsleeves he wore now in his own home, rolled up above his elbows, revealed arms more muscled than she’d ever seen. And his face, with its square jaw and topped by a wave of dark hair, wasn’t just handsome. It was charming, his eyes always twinkling, his smile always bright. Even now, as he looked down at his sister, despite Alethia’s surely unwelcome presence behind her.
Mama would probably be grateful for the gunshots if she realized they’d landed her in the Fairfax home. Like Austen’s Mrs. Bennet, happy to sacrifice Jane’s health if it meant time spent with the Bingleys.
“I’ve sent a note to Hemming’s people about outfitting the train car properly. Have you seen Vinia?”
Lady Marigold shook her head. “Not since before my nap, while you were still out. I thought you said she was in the drawing room when you and James arrived?”
“Yes, but she vanished in the melee. Clementina said she wasn’t in her room. Did she mention going home for something?”
The lady shook her head. “She can’t have reallyvanished. Check the gymnasium.”
Lord Fairfax snorted. “You havemetLavinia, haven’t you?”
“She comes to the gymnasium all the time.”
“To talk to you, sure.”
“Library?”
