Page 23 of The Viscount in her Bedroom
She and Mr. Reyburn followed Miss Wade and her brother to the terrace. It was an unusually warm spring day, and the sun felt good on her face.
“Miss Shelby,” Mr. Reyburn said, “if you don’t mind my saying, you seem familiar to me. Are you often in London?”
“Yes, I was raised there. And you seem familiar to me,” she said, as they caught up with the Wade siblings.
Lord Wade smiled. “Paul, how can you forget Miss Shelby? She was one of three sisters, and their father was a banker.”
So she was unforgettable? Louisa thought, feeling pleased and flattered.
“Ah, yes,” Mr. Reyburn said, looking at her with more interest. “Your sister married Lord Thurlow. I am a Member of Parliament, in the House of Commons with him.” He glanced back at Lord Wade. “Although someday I’ll be there alone, because Lord Thurlow will have taken his father’s seat in the Lords. Simon should already be there.”
Lord Wade frowned good-naturedly. “Don’t scare the girl off, Paul. You know how women hate politics.”
Louisa arched a brow. “We hate politics? Such a shame I didn’t tell my father that, instead of talking with him about the Corn Laws late into the night. In your expert opinion, what do we females like to discuss, my lord?”
Miss Wade laughed and tried to drag her brother away. “No politics! You promised I would have a walk in the sunshine, away from complaints of gout and hearing loss.”
But Louisa could not miss the nervous look she cast between the men. She didn’t want them to discuss politics? Or Parliament itself? Was she worried that Lord Wade would think he had to forgo his seat there?
After Miss Wade guided her brother down the stone stairs of the terrace to the gravel path below, Lord Wade turned back as if looking at Louisa.
“Accept the truth, Miss Shelby. You women like to talk about hats. An endless discussion of them.”
“Hats?” she said incredulously.
Mr. Reyburn held up his arm again and she rested her hand on it. “Ignore him, Miss Shelby. He likes to think he knows the female mind.”
“Then he must be displaying an astounding ignorance of it for a particular reason.”
Mr. Reyburn smiled, looking uncertain of her wit, but she saw Lord Wade’s shoulders shake, as if he were trying not to laugh.
She was pleasantly satisfied.
As the path widened, the two couples were able to walk abreast, and Louisa enjoyed listening to the men talk. Mr. Reyburn asked Lord Wade his opinion about a factory he was considering purchasing, and Lord Wade spoke about the poor conditions for women and children in such jobs, sounding perfectly ready to take his place in the House of Lords. He was not the featherhead he had sometimes seemed at so many of the parties she’d attended. But then she already knew how good he was at hiding part of himself.
Into a pleasant lull in the conversation, Louisa said, “You have a grasp of the practical that impresses me, Lord Wade. I never would have guessed.”
Mr. Reyburn laughed, Miss Wade caught her breath, and Lord Wade came to a stop, dragging his sister with him.
“Are you calling me shallow, Miss Shelby?” he inquired pleasantly.
She grinned, enjoying bantering with this particular man. “You are very good at projecting that when you want to, my lord.”
“She has you, Simon,” Mr. Reyburn said, leading the way back up to the terrace.
A display of cider and cakes had been left on a wrought-iron table. Louisa watched with a frown as Miss Wade made sure to pull out a chair for her brother and guide him into it. His jaw tightened, but he said nothing; perhaps he didn’t want to hurt his sister’s feelings.
To Louisa’s surprise, Miss Wade placed a slice of cake before him and proceeded to cut it into small pieces. Mr. Reyburn studiously ate his own cake, but Louisa was too intrigued to feign disinterest. Did Miss Wade think her brother would allow her to hand-feed him? If he could walk about an entire mansion unassisted, he could find the food on his plate with a fork. But would he?
Miss Wade was trying to do too much for him. She was trying to coax her brother back into the world, whether it was through his business dealings, or with food.
Didn’t Lord Wade realize that by her constant attention to him, Miss Wade was gladly letting go of her own life?
Miss Wade lifted her chin resolutely. “Simon, I placed a piece of cake in front of you. Shall I help you eat it?”
Lord Wade smiled politely, although Louisa watched his hands clench in his lap.
“No, thank you, Georgie. I’m not hungry.”
