Page 6 of The Viscount in her Bedroom
“You are not old, Grandmama,” Miss Wade spoke aloud for the first time. “Death doesn’t even know where you live yet.”
Lady Wade laughed. “Ah, Georgie my child, you amuse me.”
Louisa smiled at Miss Wade, who blushed now as if she regretted her words. She bent her head over her embroidery again.
“And what are your accomplishments, Miss Shelby?” Lady Wade asked. “I’m always impressed by the talent of young ladies today.”
“I, too, enjoy embroidery, my lady. I love to read and paint, and I’m told my speaking voice is pleasant, so whenever you’d like me to read to you…”
“Of course, of course. Do you play the piano and sing?”
Before Louisa could answer, Miss Wade gave a little gasp, then put her finger in her mouth as if she’d stabbed it with her needle. She glanced with a frown at her grandmother. Lady Wade continued to smile pleasantly, ignoring her granddaughter.
Louisa just blinked and smiled. “Ah, yes, I do sing and play, although my sister, Victoria, is the true musical talent in our family.”
“Grandmama,” Miss Wade said tightly, “did you forget that our piano is broken?”
“I had it repaired.”
Miss Wade bit her lip and didn’t reply. Louisa tried not to stare between the two of them with all the curiosity she felt. They didn’t seem upset with each other, but the tension was palpable. Perhaps Miss Wade had not wanted her grandmother to hire a companion? Yet her smile had been so welcoming.
“My penmanship is perfectly legible,” Louisa continued, “so I am able to write letters for you. And I enjoy traveling, and would accompany you anywhere—”
“Oh, I won’t be traveling any time soon,” Lady Wade said with a wave of her hand, “except through the surrounding countryside, of course. I have many friends I regularly visit.”
Louisa frowned even as Miss Wade rolled her eyes. It sounded less and less as if Lady Wade was a lonely woman in need of companionship. Or perhaps she was realizing a frailty that she still couldn’t admit to herself—or her family. Growing old must be difficult when one is strong.
“What will my duties be, my lady?” Louisa asked.
“Nothing very strenuous,” said Lady Wade. “I will require your companionship for several hours in the morning and the afternoon, but you will always have time for yourself each day. Right now you can learn my schedule at a slow pace, since once my grandchildren leave, I’ll surely occupy more of your time.”
“I don’t need to leave you, Grandmama,” Miss Wade insisted.
“Someday you’ll have a home of your own, my dear.”
To Louisa’s surprise, Miss Wade’s hopeful expression soon faded.
A bewigged and liveried footman knocked and entered the room. “Lord Wade,” he announced solemnly.
Louisa felt a rush of nervousness and curiosity as she rose to her feet with the other ladies. She had not seen Lord Wade since before his accident, and she wondered how much he had changed. She was prepared for a man in a state of disarray, sad, even lost.
She heard his voice, deep and amused, before she saw him.
“Bernard, I keep telling you that you don’t have to introduce me to my own grandmother. She knows who I am.”
Miss Wade giggled, Lady Wade smiled fondly, and Lord Wade entered the room, his hand on the shoulder of a plainly dressed man. He certainly didn’tsoundsad and lost, Louisa thought with relief.
Then she swallowed heavily, as the sight of him swamped her with memories and sensations from another time. She had always thought him a handsome man; whenever he had walked into a room, her gaze had been drawn to him. But unlike other handsome men, Lord Wade had always seemed like so much more. His humor and charm had been there on his open face, and she was gratified to see it still there.
And confused, too, because her reaction to him was still so very physical. She experienced a breathlessness that made her want to inhale too deeply, and suddenly the room seemed far too warm.
He wasn’t limping, so the cane he carried must be an aid for his blindness. He was still so tall, so very fine of figure, wide through the shoulders where a man should be. He was elegantly dressed, but she should not be surprised at that, when he certainly had the services of a good valet. He seemed in robust health, instead of a man who must have lain abed a long while recovering. His wavy blond hair, cut shorter than the last time she’d seen him, shone in the sunlight that filtered through the delicate curtains. He had a long, straight nose, and cheekbones that were rugged above the deep dimples in his cheeks.
But his eyes—his beautiful, green eyes, as colorful as the depths of a forest, were blank, vacant.
“Good afternoon, Simon,” Lady Wade said.
When his grandmother greeted him, he looked straight at her, as if he could see.
