Page 25 of Courting Miss Lancaster
“Allow me to offer my escort as well,” Mr. Dalforth interjected, the two gentlemen rising to assist Athena and Persephone from their seats.
Harry led the silent group directly to their hostess, and, after thanking Mrs. Fitzpatrick for the music, though he pointedly did not refer to the evening as “enjoyable,” he brought them all to the entry hall. The Kielder carriage was summoned whilst the ladies’ wraps and the gentlemen’s overcoats were returned to them.
“Miss Lancaster,” Mr. Dalforth said after handing her into the waiting carriage, “might I request the honor of taking you for a drive tomorrow at the fashionable hour?”
Athena’s battered pride was too bruised to prevent a disbelieving reply. “You wish to be seen with a lady who looks like a fish?” she said quietly. The remark she intended to be light came out heavy as lead.
“No,” Mr. Dalforth replied, “I wish to be seen about withyou.”
Athena offered a shaky smile, looking to Persephone for permission. “Of course,” was her very quiet response.
“I shall call for you, then, approximately one-quarter ’til the hour.”
“Thank you, sir,” Athena replied, feeling the sting of tears in her throat once more.
“And, Windover, I hope I might run into you tomorrowas well. Perhaps at our club.” There was something in Mr. Dalforth’s tone that indicated it was not, in fact, a request.
The tension between the men was palpable enough to penetrate the fog of pain quickly descending over Athena’s mind, her headache having built in intensity. She glanced quickly in Harry’s direction and saw him nod minutely, his expression tight. But Athena hadn’t the stamina to devote any effort to discerning the exchange between the two gentlemen. She simply wanted to go back to Falstone House and try to forget she had ever met Sir Hubert Collington.
A moment later they were making their way swiftly through the streets of London. The headache Athena had endured on the drive to the Fitzpatricks’ was a mere nuisance compared to the monumental pain she was enduring on the drive back. The termsfish faceanddesperationechoed in her throbbing skull.
“I certainly hope, Harry, that you do not actually intend to take us to another event this evening,” Persephone said, her voice steady but uncharacteristically quiet.
“Not at all,” he replied, his usual joviality missing. “We are returning to Falstone House.”
Athena released a breath thick with relief and leaned back against the comfortable squabs of the luxurious carriage. She closed her eyes, listening to the pounding of her heart reverberating in her head. Athena was certain that if she could only manage to sleep, her head would feel better. In the light of the morning she might even manage to shake off the sting of Sir Hubert’s remarks.
“Come warm yourself by the fire in the book room,” Persephone said to Harry once they had arrived, her voice still too subdued for Athena’s peace of mind. Sir Hubert’s barbs had gone deep.
Harry agreed, managing a smile that didn’t look entirely natural. Athena pondered slipping upstairs to the quiet of herbedchamber but immediately thought better of it. Persephone had spent the evening in the company of one acerbic, ill-tempered gentleman. Adam wasn’t usually any better. Athena had been unable to defend her sister to Sir Hubert. She would not fail her again.
Setting her shoulders and willing the pulsating agony in her head to not thwart her, Athena followed Persephone and Harry to the book room. Adam was in a chair near the fireplace, an open book in one hand. He looked up as they entered, and Athena pushed down her characteristic trepidation. Adam intimidated her, worried her. But she stood near the door, determined to be there if she was needed.
“You are home early,” Adam said, rising to his feet and setting the book on a table nearby. “Were you not enjoying yourself?”
Persephone shrugged as if to dismiss the thought. She opened her mouth to speak, and, to Athena’s alarm, Persephone’s expression simply crumbled. It was Adam’s reaction, however, that surprised her most. She would have expected disapproval—annoyance, perhaps. What she saw was pure, undisguised worry.
Adam was across the room in an instant. “What happened?”
“Oh, Adam!” was Persephone’s watery reply.
Adam wrapped Persephone in his arms, his brows knit in confusion. “Persephone?” he asked softly, his tone filled with concern. “Persephone, dear, tell me what’s happened.”
But Persephone kept her face buried against Adam’s chest and didn’t answer.
“Harry.” There was the authoritative tone Athena expected from Adam. She stepped back without conscious thought and pressed herself against the wall. “Explain this.”
“Your duchess and Miss Lancaster have had the dubious honor of making the acquaintance of Sir Hubert Collington,”Harry answered.
“And were, no doubt, shocked at the poisonous nature of his company,” Adam replied. He still hadn’t released Persephone but had begun gently rubbing her back, rocking her slowly, soothingly. Athena found herself mesmerized by the movement, by the tenderness of it. Was this truly the Duke of Kielder? “On whom did he turn his acidic criticisms this time?” There was obvious disapproval in Adam’s voice, and Athena liked him all the more for it. Adam could be acidic and critical, but at that moment he was the very picture of husbandly concern.
There was a moment of uneasy silence. Harry didn’t answer out loud. He motioned, subtly, with a nod of his head toward Persephone. Athena saw Adam stiffen, saw the look of the Dangerous Duke return to his face. “What did he say?” It was not a request.
“I do not think, Adam, that Persephone needs to hear those things again,” Harry replied.
“Again? Sir Hubert said these thingstoher?” Adam’s tone would have warned even the densest of beings that he was well on his way to being furious.
“And to Athena,” Harry confirmed.
