Page 129 of The Duelist for the Ton
She smiled. “I envy every woman who has yet to experience the judgment of the world—women who enjoy a successfulSeason, who avoid the attention of undesirables, who aren’t driven to act out of desperation, and…”
She caught her breath as the little boy ahead turned and waved at her, the sunlight catching his hair to form a halo.
“My poor child,” she whispered. “Before my confinement, Mother insisted I hide away in disgrace. I was required to utter falsehoods to explain my absence from London. A rest cure, Mother told her acquaintances.” She let out a snort. “Arest cure, indeed! Little did I know that most women in Society are fully aware of what that actually means.”
A rest cure…
Where had he heard that term before?
“Forgive me for burdening you with my sensibilities. I’m afraid…” Her blush deepened, then she dipped her head. “I believe I can trust you, colonel—despite how cruelly I treated you.”
“Lady Staines, you were never cruel,” he said. “In breaking off our engagement, you ensured your own happiness, and furthered the cause of mine. No matter the manner of the delivery, or the words you used, you committed an act of kindness.”
“It isyouwho are kind.” Then she lowered her voice to a whisper. “It’s not only Eleanor who’s with child,” she said. “We came early to London to see Dr. McIver—I really couldn’t bear to see anyone else, and I refused to make the poor man travel all the way to Radham Hall. He has instructed me to take plenty of fresh air, and occasional respite from my rambunctious son. I find that my spirits often rise and fall in a heartbeat, but Dr. McIver assures me that’s perfectly healthy, and to be expected.”
A rest cure…
Of course! It was what Foxton had said about Portia. Which meant…
“Dear God Almighty!”
Lady Staines recoiled. “Colonel!” she cried.
The man and boy at the water’s surface turned and strode toward them.
Lord Staines reached them in a heartbeat, the little boy trotting at his heels.
“Is anything the matter, Juliette my love?” he said, eyeing Stephen with disapproval.
“Forgive me, Lady Staines, I meant no disrespect,” Stephen said. “I-I was just thinking about…” He hesitated, but Staines stepped closer.
“Yes?” His voice may have a mild tone, but it carried an undertone of steel.
“I was thinking of Foxton,” Stephen blurted out. “But it matters not.”
“Have you seen him?” Lord Staines said.
“He’s in the country, is he not?”
“He was at White’s last night, though he’s returning to Forthridge in a day or so for his shooting party. I daresay you’ll see him there. You’re not a member of White’s, are you? I confess, I prefer Boodle’s myself, but the chef at White’s does an excellent roast beef. Not the least bit overdone—and I’m very particular about beef, am I not, my love? I know our cook at Radham Hall despairs of my fastidiousness.”
Lady Staines looked at her husband with adoration in her eyes, while the little boy bowed toward Stephen.
“Colonel Reid,” he said. “It’s a pleasure to see you today. A fine morning for a walk in the park, is it not?”
Lady Staines looked at her son, love and pride shimmering in her eyes.
“What a polite and gentlemanly young man!” Stephen said. “Your mama and papa must be very proud of you.”
Lord Staines scooped up the boy in his arms, and Gabriel squealed in delight.
“Yes,” he said. “We are. Children are such a blessing.”
A rest cure…
The whispered voice circled in Stephen’s mind, taunting him while he shook his head to dissipate it.
“Colonel, are you well?” Lady Staines said.
