Page 63 of If Not for the Duke

Wasn’t it?

When she was near Sterling, she began to wonder. To hope. Was there a chance he might understand? That he wouldn’t stare at her with the suspicion so often in his eyes?

Lena tore her gaze away from him, only to realize she’d lost track of the conversation. With a stern reminder to pay attention, she focused on what Bernie was saying.

“Just this morning, the cook told me she had a feeling that evening before dinner that something bad was going to happen,” Bernie continued. “If only she’d told me, then perhaps I would’ve taken more care.”

“You can’t be serious, Bernie,” Sterling said as he walked forward to join his sister on the settee. “You should know by now that Mrs. Roberts is always having those feelings and rarely do they mean anything.” He frowned then shook his head. “In fact, I think the only time she happens to be right is when she tells us afterward. You mustn’t listen to such nonsense.”

A lump of emotion lodged in Lena’s throat, threatening to bring tears to her eyes. She’d known that would be his response. After all, it was similar to everyone else’s. Few believed intuition could be trusted. How could she blame him when she didn’t always trust it either? He was a practical, pragmatic man. He would not be looked upon favorably if he believed in nonsensical things.

Still, his reaction stung.

“I don’t know,” Bernie countered, her lips twisting to the side as she considered the matter. “I think there is something to it. You have admitted to having a bad feeling on more than one occasion. You are often right.”

“That’s hardly the same thing. When presented with a set of circumstances, we all have a response to the possible outcome based on our past experiences. An instinct, if you will. You have that as well.” His gaze shifted to Lena again. “I’m certain Miss Wright does, too.”

“Do you, Lena?” Bernie asked.

Lena couldn’t believe she was having this conversation. Yet both Sterling and Bernie watched her with expectant looks. “I suppose I do.” Hopefully, the answer was noncommittal enough to satisfy them but hide how uncomfortable she was.

Sterling’s eyes narrowed, tightening her stomach. There was no possibility of him knowing that she wasn’t telling the full truth. Was there?

*

Sterling watched Lenaclosely as Bernie continued to share several other stories of the cook’s supposed ability to foresee trouble. The older woman tended to see trouble in nearly everything. If Bernie would pay more attention, she’d see how often Mrs. Roberts mentioned her feeling after an event had occurred.

Lena shifted in her chair, fidgeting with the tip of her gloved finger, looking anywhere but at him.

Did her opinion differ from his? Was that the reason she looked so uncomfortable? Or was there more to it?

Her gaze shifted to Bernie, and she smiled politely at what his sister was saying. As he continued to watch her, something niggled at the back of his mind. He searched his thoughts to try to understand the feeling, much like he’d forgotten something he’d wanted to remember.

Then he scoffed at himself. Here he was, telling Bernie to ignore Mrs. Roberts’s premonitions when he was acting just like the cook. How ridiculous. How often had Bernie accused him of suspecting everyone? He’d promised to work on that, but old habits were difficult to break. He brought his thoughts back to the conversation.

“Are you still reviewing the letters?” Bernie asked Lena.

“Yes. They’re rather enjoyable to read, aren’t they? A personal account of another time.” Lena’s polite smile brought the nagging feeling back in a rush.

She wasn’t telling the truth. Or at least, was only telling a modified version of it. Why?

Even as the question came to mind, he chided himself for making assumptions. Still, he wanted a moment alone with her to find out what was going on, but how? Bernie was clearly settled in for a visit. He didn’t need the ability to predict the future to know Bernie would rather he leave them to talk. The looks she kept throwing his way made that abundantly clear.

He waited for a pause in the conversation then stood to take his leave. As he passed through the entrance hall, he requested Foster to tell him when Lena was departing so he might have a word with her.

Then he paced his study for nearly thirty minutes before Foster showed Lena into the room, advising her that he would fetch her servants.

Sterling watched the butler’s friendly behavior with some amusement. Foster practically treated her like a member of the family. His opinion of Lena seemed to have greatly improved since she’d helped to aid Bernie.

“I wanted a word with you before you left,” Sterling began as Foster stepped out of the room, leaving the door ajar.

“Oh?”

There it was again—that same uncomfortable look she’d had earlier. What did it mean?

“How do you think Bernie is truly feeling?” he asked, moving forward until he stood before her. He hopedhedidn’t make her feel uneasy.

“She says she is much better.”

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