Page 101 of The Duelist for the Ton
“Let me escort you to your chamber,” Nerissa said. “Miss Lucas, I can take care of Lady Portia now. You need to return home before you’re missed.”
Euphramia nodded, then gave Portia’s hand an affectionate squeeze. “I’ll visit you on Thursday,” she said. “Papa is taking tea with Reverend Gache, so I can slip away unnoticed.”
“Let me show you out,” Nerissa said.
“There’s no need,” came the reply. “You take care of Lady Portia.”
“Very well. Use the stairs we came up,” Nerissa said. “If Mr. Reeve spots you, just say you were tending to Lady Portia’s monthly bleed. If he doesn’t faint, he’ll run away faster than a deerhound.”
Euphramia smiled. “Men! They consider themselves the superior sex, yet most of them faint at the mere thought of a woman’s courses. Papa is just the same. He—” She broke off,blushing, then took her leave and slipped out of the chamber, her footsteps fading into the distance.
Nerissa placed her arm around Portia’s shoulders and escorted her to the door. After checking that the passageway was quiet outside, she led Portia toward her chamber on the floor below. Once inside, she helped her out of the Farthing’s clothes and dropped them in a trunk.
“I’ll burn these after I’ve brought you breakfast, then the Farthing and Gerard will be no more.”
“I-I can’t have breakfast in bed,” Portia said. “What will I tell my brother?”
“That you’re having your courses,” Nerissa said. “His Grace may not swoon like Mr. Reeve at the thought of the workings of the female body, but he’ll not inquire further if I tell him you’re in a delicate state of health this morning.” She held up the bloodstained neckerchief. “One glimpse of this will convince him to refrain from further discussion.”
“And afterward?” Portia said, gesturing to her bandaged arm.
“A long sleeve will conceal that until you’re fully healed,” came the reply. “We’re fortunate that long sleeves are fashionable this Season.”
“Very well,” Portia said, and Nerissa helped her into the bed and drew the sheet over her.
“There! All we need now is a warm fire—I hope you’ll have no objection if I send Poppy up to light it. She’s a sensible girl and won’t gossip.”
Portia reached toward Nerissa, who took her hand. “Thank you,” she said. “I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have you in my life. You’re my friend, my confidante, and…” She shook her head as the world shifted out of focus. “I-I’m sorry that your room’s so small and dull, tucked away upstairs. I-I didn’t—”
“It’s better than most maids’ rooms.”
“But it’s not as good as you deserve. When I have a home of my own, I’ll…”
Portia’s voice trailed off as the reality of her situation gripped her heart, and a tear slid down her cheek.
“The colonel doesn’t know it’s you,” Nerissa said. “He was only protecting his sister.”
“I know,” Portia replied, “and he’d already made his dislike of the Farthing plain when we discussed the matter. But to witness such hatred, directed toward me…”
“He hates what’s happened to his sister, that’s all. But he lovesyou—I know it, and so do you. If there’s one person in this world he’s capable of forgiving, it’s you. And there’s nothing to forgive. I’m sure he’ll come to understand that.”
But what if he doesn’t?
Nerissa bustled about the room, tidying away all evidence of the Farthing, then took her leave, promising to return with a tray as soon as she’d changed into her uniform. Portia leaned back onto the pillows, wincing at the soreness in her arm, and let the languor induced by the laudanum wash over her, soothing her senses with a gentle detachment from the world around her.
At length, footsteps approached, and she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes as the door opened to reveal a blurred shape.
“I hadn’t expected you to be so quick, Nerissa. Did you tell my brother—”
“Tell me what?” a deep voice said.
The world snapped into focus and Portia’s stomach tightened as Adam stepped into the chamber, closing the door behind him.
“Wh-where’s Nerissa?”
“Your maid’s tending to your breakfast. You’re taking it in bed, I see.” He approached the bed and drew up a chair. “May I?” he asked.
“Of course.”
