Page 19 of Dangerous Games of a Broken Lady
“There are often delays in publishing, too,” Lady Francesca stumbled over her words. “I am sure this is all one enormous misunderstanding. You will soon see that everything shall be put to rights. A little patience is all that is required.”
Adelaide smiled. “A virtue that I, sadly, do not possess.”
“I implore you to see sense. No good may come of this.”
“I will not stand by and have a gentleman humiliate me,” Adelaide explained coldly. “If he is toying with my good name and my reputation, then I deserve to discover it for myself before he can cause any sort of ruination. If thisisa misunderstanding, then no harm can come from a casual inquiry with my future mother-in-law.”
Lady Francesca reached for Adelaide’s hand. “I do not think it wise.”
“Perhaps not, but that will not prevent me.” She extricated herself from Lady Francesca’s grasp and headed in the direction of the bottle-green door. Two lions stood at either side of the steps. They were somewhat weathered, with a smattering of lichen growing across the dull stone. From the looks of them, Adelaide imagined they had been there since the house was built.
She reached the top step and turned to find Lady Francesca and Edith loitering at the bottom. Edith was a rather casual sort of woman, who cared not what her charges did as long as they did not get her into trouble. As such, it seemed that neither Lady Francesca nor Edith were going to accompany Adelaide inside. That suited her just fine.
Slowly, she reached up and rapped the brass knocker. It was shaped like a stag, the antlers curving up towards the green wood. A proud snout faced outwards, indented eyes staring Adelaide down. The sound ricocheted into the house beyond. All she could do now was wait.
A few moments later, she heard footsteps echoing in what she presumed was the hallway. Her heart leapt into her throat as she waited for the door to open. If Reuben answered, she had no idea what she was going to do. In truth, she hadn’t really planned that far. Then again, a gentleman such as Reuben was unlikely to answer the door personally.
A middle-aged man answered. Dressed in a crisp black suit, with his gray hair neatly combed and oiled back, Adelaide supposed him to be the butler. “Yes, how may I help you?”
“My name is Lady Adelaide Colborne. I was wondering if the Dowager Duchess was at home?”
“Do you have a scheduled appointment, Lady Colborne?”
“I do not.”
“Then I highly doubt that she will see you, My Lady. She is not prone to inviting unsolicited guests inside.”
“I am an acquaintance of the Duke.”
The butler pulled a face. “Another one,” he muttered. “Are you in some sort of trouble? Do you require some… specific assistance?”
Adelaide was not entirely sure what the butler was referring to, but she could guess. Evidently, she was not the first spurned woman to turn up at Reuben’s door. Although, she supposed they were not often as high in station as she was. Nevertheless, as she had already told Jasper, she did not care for Reuben’s past. She sought only to better his future, so she might better her own. A few indiscretions could be easily ignored for such a reward.
“I desire only to speak with either the Duke or his mother,” she replied firmly. “I am in no trouble.”
“Do not leave the poor girl out in the cold, Bartholomew,” a sharp voice called from inside the shadowed foyer. Adelaide attempted to peer over the butler’s shoulder, but she could not make out the speaker. The stern tone sent a shiver up her spine, reminding her of stark governesses from bygone days.
“Of course, Your Grace,” Bartholomew muttered, gesturing for Adelaide to come inside. “Shall I have the kitchen prepare an early tea for you?”
“If you would,” the speaker replied, though she was still nowhere to be seen.
“Just through the door on the right,” Bartholomew urged, noting Adelaide’s confusion. “Do your companions care to come inside?”
She smiled. “I think they would prefer to remain outside, thank you.”
“Very well.” As the door closed behind her, Adelaide felt a sudden rush of panic. The comforting glow of the sunlight evaporated, leaving only the dark entrance hall of the Mayfair townhouse. Her sole exit to the outside world had been shut off. Indeed, Lady Francesca still stood on the steps beyond. If anything were to happen, she doubted anyone would come to her aid.
What are you expecting to happen?she chided herself.The Dowager Duchess is likely to be perfectly civil towards you, given your attachment to her son. Truly, she wishes for the marriage to go ahead as much as anyone. You heard Reuben say so. With so many waifs and strays turning up at the door, no doubt she is eager for him to make an honest man of himself.
Calming slightly, she glanced around. The walls of the entrance hall were paneled with dark mahogany, whilst the floorboards were cloaked in thick rugs of deep burgundy intertwined with rich navy. No scrap of natural light seemed able to find its way in, though oil lamps flickered down the hall. Tapestries hung from every wall, depicting classical ladies and refined gentleman in various states of action. Some remained motionless and stiff, sitting in chairs. Others stretched out in repose, whilst several images depicted fierce battles and proud soldiers. It was a curious mixture of art, with one central point of similarity--everything held a heavy, gothic quality.
The butler disappeared down the stuffy corridor, abandoning Adelaide to her foolish undertaking. Ignoring her unease, she made her way into the first room on the right. The door was already open, leading into an equally gloomy drawing room.
“I was wondering if I might have the pleasure of your company one day soon,” a voice remarked. Adelaide’s gaze flitted this way and that, but she could not pinpoint who had spoken. Two high-backed armchairs were positioned beside a roaring fire at the far side of the room. The Dowager had to be sat within one of them. Either that, or she was rather good at hiding.
“Your Grace?”
“Indeed, Lady Adelaide. Come, sit with me.”
