“You have noticed Lord Rutherford’s absence from society, Lady Catherine?”
She looked to her left, trying to smother her surprise. “I have, yes,” she said with a small frown. “But only because I am used to seeing his presence almost everywhere I turn.” Her smile became a little wry. “He does tend to make sure that all of the other guests know that he is present, does he not?”
Lady Serena did not smile. Instead, her eyes remained trained on Catherine, holding her gaze steadily before she sighed and turned her head away.
“It is as you say, I think,” Lady Serena said softly. “It is best that he is gone from society for a time.”
“You do not think well of him?” Catherine ventured, wondering if Lady Serena would speak any more of him. “I will tell you without hesitation that I think him quite the rake and certainly not someone who brings any sort of benefit to society.”
Lady Serena nodded sagely but did not look at her. “You are quite correct there, Lady Catherine,” she said, her voice devoid of emotion. “And yet how strange it is that he can still have a hold on society even when he is not present.” Her eyes darted back toward Catherine for just a moment, before she nodded, bobbed a curtsy, and then quickly stepped away.
7
Stephen tried his level best to focus on the words on the page, but they kept escaping his gaze. They would slide to the left and to the right as his eyes sought to pin them down. But no matter how hard he tried, he simply could not find a way to read the words that were placed there. His mind would not allow him to do so.
Sighing, he threw his head back and groaned. He had been in this room too long. Lord Enfield had departed for the ball some hours ago, Lady Catherine and Lady Ann with him. They had not returned yet, but still, he refrained from stepping out of his room and wandering the house for fear of what the staff would say and what might be whispered to Lady Catherine.
The last thing he needed was for her to think even less of him, and to discover him creeping around the house while they had been absent was something that Stephen knew would not go well.
He shut his book with a snap, already frustrated with it. He could not focus, could not think on anything other than this evening and what Lady Catherine would be finding out. It was not as though he was afraid of what she would discover—most likely, Lord Nottingham would sing his praises, although he might also throw out one or two criticisms. Would his friend have missed his presence in London? Surely Lord Nottingham would have noted it by now, given that Stephen spent most of his time in amongst society. He did not pass a single evening in his own company, for that was much too dull and staid.
“I am sure that whatever has been discovered, it will be of aid to you,” he told himself, speaking aloud as he set his book down and turned to the window. There were a few candles burning within his room but the drapes to his window were pulled tight, so that the master of the house would not notice his presence when the carriage returned. It was a little worrying living in the very same house as the Earl of Enfield without the gentleman being aware of his presence, but Stephen knew that it was for the best. To return to his own townhouse, to take that chance, might bring with it a good deal of risk.
Stephen shuddered, closing his eyes as he pulled back the drapes to look out of the window. He could still remember waking up to feel that deep pain surge through his body, the face before him hazy and shadowy. How close had he come to death? He did not want to think about such a question, but it lingered in his mind anyway. To have had such fear within his heart had been terrifying and now, looking back on it, Stephen still felt rather afraid.
It was frightening knowing that someone within society wanted to kill him. Worse, that they had wanted to do so in order to make him a mockery amongst the ton. Everyone would know of the note, of the knife, and would have believed him to be filled with regret and horror at his own behavior—when the truth was, he felt very little of the sort.
There is a little regret now, mayhap.
Shaking his head as though to disperse the thoughts, Stephen tried his best not to think of anything other than what was to come. The Shadows, as he now knew them, seemed to be certain that they would be able to help find the person responsible and given that he could do nothing other than wait and hope, Stephen knew he had to trust them. He did not like doing so, especially when it was quite clear that Lady Catherine—as well as the other Shadows—disliked him, but there was nothing else for him to do.
His breath caught at the sound of wheels rattling along the cobbled streets. Within a matter of moments, he saw the carriage reappear, the lanterns lighting it somewhat. A giggle floated up toward him as one lady and then the next appeared, followed closely by their father.
His brows furrowed. Lord Enfield was swaying rather badly and Lady Catherine, with a loud exclamation, instructed the footman to lead her father up to his bedchamber, given that he was more than ready to retire. A small smile caught the corner of Stephen’s mouth as he watched the scene unfold. Lady Catherine was clearly used to instructing her father’s staff about the place, for they did as they were asked without hesitation. The sound of the confidence in her voice rang out to him as he watched them move forward into the house, feeling his heart sink when he realized he could not see them any longer.
His heart began to pound as he turned on his heel, marching up and down his rooms, avoiding the creaky floorboards with great precision. He had discovered them very soon after he had been able to rise from his bed and now took great pains not to tread on them. Not that such a thing mattered, given that Lord Enfield would, most likely, be sound asleep already. He knew all too well what a good amount of liquor could do to a gentleman. Lord Enfield would be in a deep sleep for a long time to come.
Pressing his lips together, Stephen hesitated. Dare he open his door and go down to see if he could find Lady Catherine? If Lord Enfield was already abed, then there was no reason for him to remain. All he had to do was go in search of her, taking great care to be as quiet and as silent as a wraith. He knew the house, he told himself, well enough to remove himself down the stairs and into the drawing room and then the library, if she was not at the first.
What if she has retired? came a sudden thought. Will you make your way to her bedchamber to learn what has happened?
The answer was in his heart before he even had a chance to think of it. Shaking his head, he let a tremor run through him, a tremor that spoke of the awareness of the disaster that would follow should he do such a thing. Lady Catherine was not to be trifled with. She would never allow him to behave in such a manner and if he attempted to do so, then most likely she would have him flung from the house and left to the care of the other Shadows.
But I must know how this evening went.
Stephen knew he would not be able to sleep until he found out from Lady Catherine just what Lord Nottingham had said. Hesitating for one moment longer, he opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, walking along slowly with one hand holding a candle to light his way. He could hear nothing except for his own breathing, his footsteps making hardly any sound on the floor as he went.
And then, turning the corner, he slammed bodily into something that was both soft and yet robust enough for him to be caught off guard. With a yelp, he stumbled back, his candle falling to the ground and extinguishing as it did so.