Page 41 of Courting Miss Lancaster
“Do not be so gentle with him, Your Grace,” Harry joined, his voice noticeably tighter and rough. “I have a feeling Rigby is a habitual liar.”
“Habits are easily broken,” Adam answered, “when one is dead.”
Persephone unexpectedly entered the conversation. “Do be quick about it, Adam. We will wait for you in the ballroom.”
Athena felt Persephone pull her toward the closed door. She glanced back over her shoulder toward Harry, afraid of what might actually happen once they left. She didn’t care at all for Mr. Rigby, but she did not wish the man dead. Injured, perhaps. But not dead.
Harry smiled at her, though it seemed forced, strained. He nodded, as if telling her to go. Athena nodded back, wishing he would come with her. Harry always made her feel better, and at that moment she needed comfort.
Athena somehow survived the rest of the night. Persephone’s unflappable calm combined with the Dowager Duchess’s regal command of each and every moment of the remainder of the ball kept Athena from completely falling apart. Mr. Rigby did not return to the ballroom. When Adam and Harry eventually did, they looked as casual as if they had simply stepped outside for a breath of fresh air.
The last guest trickled out at nearly three o’clock. Athena was exhausted. Adam had asked, though Adam’s requests never felt like anything short of a directive, that Athena meet with him in his book room once the house was empty of guests. She was not looking forward to the interview.
Athena was almost certain she was not going to be forced to marry Mr. Rigby. That was a relief. But she was not at all sure what Adam’s response to the contretemps would be. That he was angry had been obvious. Adam angry was not a sight to inspire confidence.
The book room was blessedly empty when she arrived. Athena had a few moments, at the least, to compose herself. She pressed her fingers against her temples, the headache she had been pointedly ignoring for two hours making itself known.
Her long-anticipated come-out ball had not turned out at all the way she had always dreamed. There had been no dashing gentleman to sweep her off her feet. Her brother-in-law had come disturbingly close to calling out the Prince of Wales. She had been accosted by a fortune hunter and had very nearly been forced into a disastrous marriage. And she was not at all certain Adam and Harry had not killed the bounder.
The night was supposed to have been magical.
“Is that a tear, Athena?”
“Harry!” She was so surprised by his sudden appearance that Athena actually gasped.
He smiled a little, but his gaze was decidedly concerned. “Youhave had a difficult evening, I daresay.”
To her surprise and embarrassment, Athena felt a second tear join the first. She swiped at it and even managed to laugh a little. “It was fairly awful in moments,” she admitted, managing to keep herself from entirely falling apart. “I fully expected you and Adam to return to the ball covered in blood.”
“Adam is far too adept at dispatching unwanted cads to so much as wrinkle his coat in the undertaking.”
“He didn’t actually kill him, did he?” Athena asked, not sure she wanted to hear the answer.
“Are you so concerned for Mr. Rigby, then?” Harry stepped closer to her, and Athena felt instantly better.
“I wouldn’t want his death to weigh on Adam’s conscience,” Athena answered.
“Adam’s conscience?” Harry laughed. “Are you so sure he has one?”
Athena felt a tiny smile tug at her lips. “Your conscience, then,” she corrected. “Iknowyou have one. You could never do anything you knew was underhanded or hurtful.”
“That, Athena, is probably the nicest thing any person has ever said about me.” Harry smiled in a way Athena had never seen him smile. There was no laughter behind it, no worry or concern. It was a look of pure contentment, and seeing it made Athena wish she could bring that expression to his face more often. He had been a source of comfort to her countless times.
“You are a very good man, Harry Windover,” Athena said. She wasn’t sure where the impulse came from or why she acted so immediately upon it, but Athena leaned her head against his chest, her energy all but spent.
“And you, Athena Lancaster,” Harry answered, “are apparently still ill.”
It was so like Harry to turn a compliment aimed at himself into a moment of self-deprecating humor. He lightened everysituation. She would never have guessed only two hours earlier, while being accosted by Mr. Rigby, that she would have reason to feel so content before the night was over.
“What did happen to Mr. Rigby?” she asked, still leaning against him.
“He left,” Harry replied. Athena felt his arms wrap lightly around her, so lightly, in fact, that she barely felt them there.
“On his own?” she pressed, feeling entirely at ease in Harry’s arms. Mr. Rigby’s embrace had been tortuous. Harry’s was heaven.
“Not precisely,” Harry said. “He required a great deal of assistance.”
“Because he was angry?” Athena wondered out loud. She closed her eyes, trying to push out all the unpleasantness of the evening from her mind.
