Page 48 of A Body, A Baron, and Miss Mifford
“Mr Lowell has been a sympathetic ear these last few days,” Lady Albermay finally said, casting a nervous glance at Eudora. “Nothing more.”
“You must be assured, my lady, that I would never think such a thing about you,” Eudora answered quite truthfully, for she had recognised that Mr Lowell’s attraction toward the viscountess was entirely one-sided. “Mr Lowell has a very comforting presence. He showed me great kindness, when I was upset. I think he just has that way about him.”
“Those who suffer loss at a young age often do,” Lady Albermay agreed, referring—Eudora guessed—to the industrialist’s deceased sister.
They continued to walk in comfortable silence, until they reached the grand entrance hall, where they parted ways.
“I think I will lie down for an hour or two before dinner,” Lady Albermay said before departing up the staircase.
Eudora watched her fragile figure depart, with a gnawing sense of worry in her stomach. The viscountess was correct in saying that the world would not be kind to her, even if she was proven innocent. Eudora hated to imagine how the world would treat her if it was proven that the viscountess had killed her husband.
After parting with the viscountess, Eudora continued her aimless tour of the house. She had no wish to return to her rooms, instead she hoped that she would bump into Lord Delaney so that he could tell her what—if anything—he had learned from Mrs Canards.
The baron’s rooms were located on the third floor of the west wing and though Eudora knew that it would set tongues wagging if she was spotted loitering there, she still found herself drifting that way.
We have a murder to solve, she told herself, as she unconsciously lifted her hand to touch her swollen lips. She was motivated purely by justice and truth, that was all.
As she neared Lord Delaney’s chambers, Eudora was glad to find the hallway deserted. She hesitated outside the door, wondering would it be too brazen to knock and see if he was within.
Her inner quandary was abruptly halted, at the sound of someone stomping furiously down the hallway.
Startled, Eudora turned to see who had caught her malingering by the baron’s door, only to find the baron himself staring back at her. His thunderous expression changed to one of confusion as he caught sight of her.
“Eudora,” he stated as though confirming her presence to himself.
Before she had a chance to reply, Lord Delaney reached out and drew her into a kiss, that was furious in its energy.
“My lord,” Eudora gasped, as they eventually broke apart, “Forgive me for lurking outside your door, I simply wished to know what happened with Mrs Canards.”
Lord Delaney’s expression turned murderous at the mention of Plumpton’s nosiest resident before his brown eyes met Eudora’s, and his expression softened.
“We became engaged,” he answered, much to Eudora’s surprise. “That’s what happened. Come inside, and I’ll explain myself.”
Eudora found herself bundled into the baron’s rooms—which were far, far grander than her own—and ushered to a seat upon an ottoman at the end of the bed.
She took a few breaths to steady her frayed nerves. However, upon inhaling, the distinct masculine smell of wood, tobacco, and spices filled her senses, and for a moment, she feared she would fall faint off the footstool. It was too much to be in this male room, having a man explain that he was engaged to her.
“There, there,” Lord Delaney said, as he rubbed her back with his hand, “Just take deep breaths.”
His touch was comforting, but Eudora resisted the temptation to allow herself be comforted by him. She was too vexed for that.
“Are you going to explain yourself?” she asked, turning her face up to him. Her tone was far snippier than she had intended, and the baron winced.
“It was Mrs Canards,” he began, his abashed tone suggesting that he knew that this was not the most auspicious way to begin the story of his ‘proposal’.
“Mrs Canards does not usually inspire romantic outbursts,” Eudora noted, folding her arms across her chest as she waited for him to continue.
“No she does not,” Lord Delaney agreed, with a visible shiver, “She took great pains to warn me that your mama was out to make a match between you and I.”
Eudora reddened as she imagined Mrs Canards relishing in informing Lord Delaney that—in her opinion—all the Mifford girls had come by their husbands through devious means.
“So, I took it upon myself to tell her that I had no need for warning, because I had proposed to you of my own volition and was ecstatic that you had agreed to become my wife.”
Despite her annoyance, Eudora could not help the giggle that escaped her, as she pictured Mrs Canard’s face upon hearing this. She almost wished that she had been there to see the wicked woman get her comeuppance—almost.
“The trouble, my lord,” Eudora continued, quickly for Robert’s expression grew hopeful that her annoyance had abated, “Is that you did not ask me.”
After a lifetime of feeling a little left out, Eudora’s heart smarted a bit to think she had been excluded from her own proposal. Not to mention, it was rather high-handed of the baron to make the matter of their engagement a unilateral decision. Eudora had been bossed about her entire life by every one of her sisters; she did not wish for married life to start off on the same foot.
