Page 33 of A Baron's Disguised Lady
Archie sighed. At the time, it had seemed like nothing, but now, faced with the terribly thought of his sister having an enemy, the matter seemed somehow more relevant.
“I found her out of bed one afternoon. Doctor Airdale had given strict instructions for her to remain in bed at all times, but Gwendolene could be stubborn. I’d gone down to the kitchen to fetch her some soup—it being the nurse’s day off—and when I came back, she was standing by the fireplace, burning letters,” Archie replied.
He could still remember the look on his sister’s face—sorrow, as though for a loss. She had hastily tossed the last of the letters into the flames, telling him she was merely putting her affairs in order. But now, Archie could not help but wonder if…
“Blackmail? A jilted lover? An enemy?” she whispered, and Archie shook his head.
“I don’t know… I didn’t think anything more of it. I told her to stop being foolish, that she didn’t need to set her affairs in order, that nothing was going to happen… but, how wrong I was. It seemed like nothing, but now… it’s the only thing I can think of that was untoward. And the smell, of course. But that was Doctor Airdale who noticed that,” he said.
Lavinia nodded, glancing over the doctor’s notes again, her brow furrowed with concentration. Archie watched her, glad to have her help, even as he felt he was imposing on her in doing so. She was a guest in his house, and now she was involved in a possible murder plot. It made him shudder to think of it—the suspects were everywhere. Gwendolene’s friends, the servants, the nurse, the physicians…
“And what are we going to do now?” Lavinia asked.
The fact she said “we” was comforting. He was glad to have her help, glad to have her company, and glad to have put their previous misunderstandings behind them.
“We’re going to find who killed my sister. I know we can, but I know I need your help, too,” he said, and she smiled at him, placing her hand on his arm.
“You’ve got it,” she replied, and Archie could not help but feel a sense of relief in knowing his problems would be shared, and perhaps the mystery would be solved.
At that moment, the door of the dining room opened, and Hargreaves appeared, bearing a silver tray. The morning’s correspondence had arrived, and Archie nodded to the butler, indicating for him to come forward.
“A letter for you, My Lord, and something for Miss Stuart, too,” he said.
Lavinia looked surprised, and now the butler turned, clearing his throat as a sign for one of the footmen to enter the dining room. He was bearing an enormous bunch of flowers, ever color imaginable, tied with a large gold bow. Archie stared at it in astonishment.
“Oh, who can that be from?” Lavinia’s mother exclaimed, and now the butler presented Lavinia with a letter to accompany the gift.
Archie was surprised to find himself filled with a pang of jealousy at the sight of the elaborate gift—a suitor had surely sent them, and despite his having made no moved or offered any intention towards Lavinia, Archie could not help but feel somewhat perturbed by the fact of another man’s interest.
He thought back to the sight of her bracelet, and the mysterious letter “T” engraved on it. Were these flowers a gift from the unknown suitor? Lavinia opened the letter. But just as soon as she did, she tossed it aside with a look of disgust. Her mother tutted.
“Lord Bath,” Lavinia said, glaring at the flowers as though Lord Bath himself were standing before her.
“Oh, but that’s very kind of him. It was such a surprise to see him at the ball in Salisbury. I only got a chance to say a few brief words to him. He was charming as always,” Lavinia’s mother said.
Archie glanced at Lavinia. Her face was like thunder.
“An unwelcome gift?” he asked, and Lavinia nodded.
Once again, Archie was surprised at the strength of his feelings. This time, he could not help but feel relieved at seeing theforce of Lavinia’s anger at this unwanted gift from the lascivious aristocrat he had rescued her from at the assembly ball.
“Absolutely so,” Lavinia replied.
“You should write and thank him, Lavinia. And if he’s in the district, we could arrange to meet him, couldn’t we?” her mother—oblivious, it seemed, to Lavinia’s anger—said, beaming at her across the table.
“Yes, I’m sure I’d like to thank him, mother,” Lavinia replied, shaking her head.
The arrival of the flowers had quite distracted Archie from his own letter, and now he opened it, expecting it to be some dull correspondence relating to the affairs of the estate. But to his surprise—and annoyance—he found it was from Wilhelmina Tipping’s father, Maxwell—the Earl of Longford. He was inviting Archie to dinner, an invitation Archie intended to refuse.
“Who was your letter from, Archie?” his mother asked, but Archie shook his head.
“Just business to do with the estate,” he replied, and his mother nodded.
“There’s always something, isn’t there?” she said, and Archie nodded.
“There is, yes,” he replied, glancing at Lavinia, who still looked angry at the imposition of Lord Bath.
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