Page 38 of For a Lady's Irresistible Gaze

Reaching up, Esther pulled the tie of her bonnet, “I apologize for the unexpected interruption, but I needed to speak with you. My brother has gotten it into his head to investigate you as if you were a blackguard. How foolish it that.”

Arthur’s unshakeable face stayed true, “I wouldn’t blame him. But before we get into that discussion, please follow me so we can sit. And I apologize, welcome to my home, Miss Smith.”

Before he led them upstairs, Arthur directed a maid to prepare refreshment and then led them to a quaint room that looked larger than it did because of the wide-open windows.

“Please, sit,” he gestured to the chairs.

While they did, he stood, “So, His Grace had concerns about me?”

“Yes,” Esther huffed, “and it’s unreasonable. Why would he want to poke into your affairs when you have nothing to hide? You just came from the worst, unimaginable situation one could ever be in. He is only rubbing salt into a wound.”

Arthur crossed his arms over his chest and looked thoughtful. “Even so, His Grace is doing what is right. I am unknown to him, and your position is very precarious. Esther, there are many men out there who would take advantage of your status and wealth. The fortune you hold is enough to have fortune-seekers coming to you in droves. Perhaps I should speak to His Grace and set his mind at ease.”

Esther shared an impressed look with Margaret, then faced Arthur with a beaming smile, “I don’t think you need to. Just by saying that, you tell me you have nothing to hide. I managed to persuade him not to do it, and I think he will not meddle any more.”

“Still,” Arthur stressed. “I do thank you for telling me, but you know you could have sent me a letter about it.”

Face reddening, Esther’s eyes dipped to her skirt, “Erm…”

He threw his head back and laughed— the first time Esther had heard him do so—and the sound; rich and melodic. Her embarrassment began to peter away just as his mirth did.

“Are you laughing at me?” She said, eyes narrowing.

“Only a little,” he replied, eyes glimmering. “Don’t fret; we can clear this all up today. Let me get dressed and—”

“No,” Esther shook her head. “John is going to be out all night, and if history proves right, half the day tomorrow. So, it makes no sense to go to him today. I’ll send you a note when you can speak with him.”

After a polite knock, Arthur stepped aside to let the maid settle the tea tray on the coffee table. He thanked her and then invited her and Margaret to ask for what they would like. On the table were crumpets, butter, preserves, slices of cake, and a kettle of tea.

Margaret sipped her tea while Esther spoke to Arthur, “My brother is one to worry needlessly. I still do not think you need to go see him.”

His broad hands reached out and clasped both of hers in a warm hold, and his gaze was even more comforting. “He is rightfully worried, Esther. I would be, too, if I were in his shoes. It is going to make him comfortable, and you as well. It is the only honorable thing to do.”

The warmth in his eyes made the little tumult in her heart settle, “I know it is, just as I know you would not shy away from doing what you think is right.”

Emotion flashed across his eyes, quicker than Esther could catch, and soon, was gone, leaving him smiling calmly, “Now, let's talk about the other reason you came to see me…”

***

When Esther’s carriage trundled off, Felton turned to the stairs and took the steps three a time.

Devil and damnation! John is looking into me—and thank god Esther had managed to dissuade him from going to the Naval office to find more about me, but how long will that hold?

He knew he had to act fast—but blast it, still no notice from his Mother about Catherine’s arrival home. What could he do now? He had to find Catherine even if it meant driving hours to Bath. Dressing quickly, he sent for his carriage, with the first stop going to be at his mother’s house to get the address of where Catherine and her maids were staying before heading out.

He donned his waistcoat and jacket while sending for his carriage. As soon as the carriage came around, Felton gave the driver the address, urging him to get there as quickly as possible, then hopped into the vehicle. Closing the door behind him, he checked his time on his watch.

It took him seventeen minutes to the dot for him to get to his mother’s house, and when he arrived, he ordered the driver to stay as he did not expect the visit to be extended. He stepped out and strode to the door, knocked quickly and after the footman admitted him, nodded and strode to his mother’s drawing-room.

“Mother, sorry for the interruption, but I need the address of the place Catherine is—” he jerked to a stop at seeingCatherinesitting there. “Catherine, you’re home.”

She cocked her head as if she saw something strange, “Of course I am. I came home a day ago, but I would have been here earlier if I hadn’t been persuaded to see the healing springs.”

The door behind him opened, and Lady Dorothea came in, her hands grasping her shawl, “Felton! What is the rush?”

He pivoted, “I came to ask you where Catherine was at Bath, as I need to speak with her about Duke Ayles. Mother, you remarked on His Grace and Catherine that I could not ignore, and it's been bothering me ever since.”

Catherine’s gaze shifted between the two, “And what would that comment be, Mother?”

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