Page 65 of When the Viscount Seduces
“Will you speak to her or to her mother?” Shefford asked.
“I suppose I’ll send a note to her mother.”
“I’d be careful about what you put in writing. But you also don’t want to be seen calling on them.” Shefford frowned. “Bloody awful situation. I’m so sorry, Somerton.”
Lazarus would put as little as possible in writing, and not just because it was a chore. “I appreciate your help. And commiseration. Your memory of the evening is most reassuring. Perhaps tonight, I will sleep.” Or not. He would probably lie awake thinking of how he’d hurt Gwen.
“I’ll let you know as soon as my man returns,” Shefford said. “Please keep me apprised of any developments. I will do whatever necessary to keep you from the parson’s trap.”
Lazarus nodded, then took himself out. While he felt better overall, he was still bothered by the whole situation. That a young woman sought to entrap him was galling, but he also felt badly for her. Was she so cornered that she’d decided lying and manipulating someone was her only escape?
Gwen was not in the mood to attend a ball with her parents that evening. The host was a good friend of her father’s, however, and she was required to accompany them. She’d been reminded of this when, after returning home from Tamsin’s, she’d attempted to tell her mother that she had a headache.
Badger, Gwen’s maid who went by Badge rather than be called a generally disagreeable animal, set the last jeweled comb in Gwen’s hair and surveyed her in the dressing table mirror. “All finished!” she declared in her thick Yorkshire accent. “You just need your gloves.” After fetching the long, white accessories, Badge handed them to Gwen. “Why do you look so worried today?” Badge, who was in her middle thirties and was as much a mothering figure as Gwen’s own mother, smoothed her fingertips across Gwen’s brow.
“I have a bit of a headache.” Gwen had no intention of telling Badge about Lazarus.
“You should have said something,” Badge gently admonished. “I would have mixed a tonic for you. I still can, if you like.”
“I am not sure there is time,” Gwen said, pulling on her gloves.
A rap on the door drew them to turn. Badge went to answer it.
Gwen could hear the conversation she had with the butler. Gwen’s presence was requested in her father’s study, which was odd, since they were due to leave for the ball shortly. Couldn’t her father say whatever he needed to in the coach?
Badge turned from the door, and Gwen said, “I heard. I’ll go down directly.”
A few minutes later, she arrived at his study. Inside, he was seated behind his desk, and her mother was in a chair nearby. They both looked very serious.
Gwen’s insides did a number of somersaults. She slowly stepped inside.
“Close the door,” her father said.
Doing as he directed, Gwen pulled the door closed and moved to stand in front of his desk. “Is something amiss?” Her heart beat wildly as she tried to imagine why her parents looked so…unhappy. Upset? Disappointed. She’d no idea.
Her father’s hair had been a lighter shade of brown than anyone else’s in the family, but what was left of it had gone mostly gray as it had receded back from his forehead. His eyes were a flat brown like Gwen’s, and his features were strong and artistically pleasing like her brother’s. He’d been painted several times, as artists found him to be an attractive subject. Indeed, he and her mother had been painted together more times than Gwen could count.
“We’ve received a disturbing letter just a short while ago,” he said, frowning deeply. “From Mr. Virgil Eberforce.”
What could that cad have to say that would interest her parents? “Did he ask you to compensate him for the waistcoat I apparently ruined at Almack’s?”
“No. He alleges you have been visiting your friend Lady Droxford in order to conduct a liaison with Lord Somerton. Is that true?”
Gwen wished she were sitting down. How on earth had Eberforce worked that out? Liaison was not an accurate characterization of why they’d been meeting, though Gwen wouldn’t have minded that.
“Of course it’s not true. I was visiting my friend, which I did this very afternoon.” Had Eberforce seen her and Lazarus arriving around the same time? But it sounded as if he had observed them several times. How, and why had he even been paying attention?
Gwen had a horrifying thought—was there any way he would have been able to see into the library? If he had, he would have seen they were kissing. Not just today, but the other day as well.
No, that was absurd. He would have had to be in the rear garden with a direct line of sight into the library. She couldn’t even recall if the draperies had been open to allow someone to see in. Of course they had. There’d been sunlight. Why had they been so reckless?
Her father studied her intently. “Eberforce says you and Somerton call at the Droxford residence around the same time and have been for the past fortnight or so.”
“That is merely a coincidence, then. I visit with Tamsin. I had no idea the viscount was there,” she lied. She saw the flicker of uncertainty in her father’s eyes and wished she’d thought to say she had seen him there once. That would perhaps have been more believable.
“It doesn’t matter,” her mother said, drawing Gwen to turn her head toward where she was sitting. “Eberforce has been saying cruel things since that mishap at Almack’s. True or not, he will spread this information, and it will reflect poorly on you.”
“That isn’t fair,” Gwen said. Except she had been meeting Lazarus secretly. But for good reason! They hadn’t been conducting a liaison. Not really. And definitely not at first.
