Love In The Library (21 page)

Annie's eyes locked with Sir Elvin's, and he sadly shook his head.

Catherine had continued to softly blot at his oozing wound. "It is bleeding less. I don't believe it will have to be sewn up."

At the mention of sewing her brother's flesh, Lizzy promptly fainted.

* * *

Her heart was not in tonight's festivities. If she weren't looking forward to seeing Glee, she would not have budged from her home.

She was so blue-deviled about Airy's injury. It had been difficult to leave him earlier that afternoon. He had proven to her he'd not suffered any dangerous effects from his beating, but for some reason she continued to worry about him. Even in those days when she'd know Mr. Bexley was not long for this world, she'd never experienced a feeling of raw, painful dread such as she had experienced that day over Airy's injury.

And that wasn't the first time she'd been so inordinately worried about that Steffington twin. Her thoughts flashed back to his trip to Cheddar and how her worry over his well-being had made her almost senseless.

She could hardly have a motherly fixation on him. They were the same age. So why in the devil did she worry over him like that?

Just before departing for the Assembly Rooms she took one long glance into her looking glass. She rather liked the way she looked in saffron but hoped others wouldn't think her too monochromatic because of her yellowish hair.

Ten minutes later she was strolling into the Assembly Rooms. She had always been more comfortable coming into these balls after they had gotten underway instead of being early and sitting around like a wallflower watching critically as each person entered the chilly chamber. For her part, she’d rather wait until the chamber had warmed up with the heat of hundreds of dancing bodies.

The first thing she saw upon entering the ballroom was Glee waltzing with her husband. Catherine stopped in mid-stride to gawk at the remarkable couple. Tiny Glee with her thick coppery hair was stunning yet entirely different from her elegant blonde sister, Felicity. As pretty as Glee was, though, it was impossible not to stare at her husband. Gregory Blankenship was acknowledged to be the most handsome man to ever have graced this watering city.

As Catherine watched him she realized many of his physical attributes were ones possessed also by the Steffington twins. All of them were tall, rather lean with broad shoulders, and in possession of very dark hair. Blanks' hair was so thick as to almost be bushy while the Steffingtons’ dark hair was as straight as a paintbrush.

Felicity came up to Catherine as she stood there. "Are they not a lovely couple?"

Catherine nodded. "A family trait, I should think. Is that not what everyone says when you dance with your husband?"

Felicity's smile accentuated her deep dimples. "I cannot help it. I do believe my dear Thomas is the most handsome man in the kingdom."

"And your sister would likely fight you over the right to say that particular honor should be bestowed upon her husband."

"If I'd been two years younger, I'm sure I'd have fallen for Blanks myself, but I always thought of him as a little brother."

The music stopped at the termination of the set, and Mr. and Mrs. Gregory Blankenship crossed the dance floor to greet Catherine.

"Oh, Caffy, it's so good to see that you've thrown off that horrid mourning garb." Glee had persisted in referring to Catherine by her childhood name. "I do hope you'll meet a perfect mate and marry again."

Catherine adamantly shook her head. "I have no desire to remarry."

Blanks kissed her hand, bowed, and took off for the card room.

"Of course you'd say that. By his debauched ways, your Mr. Bexley poisoned you against all members of his sex." Glee's voice softened. "You must believe there are other good men out there. I know Blanks' first concern is always for my well-being."

He loves her more than he loves himself
. That's the kind of husband Papa had been to Mama. Catherine had thought that breed had died with her father. But as she stood there, and Thomas Moreland came up to Felicity, Catherine realized these sisters had found that rare wonder: a loving, devoted husband.

Because Catherine had enjoyed so happy a childhood, she felt doomed to a lonely, loveless adulthood. Expecting happiness at both ends of her life would demonstrate an unbecoming sense of greed. She'd tasted happiness once; now it was time for others.

Catherine's gaze flicked to Glee's stomach. "Pray, where are you hiding that baby?"

Glee shrugged. "I am worried about my poor son. Every time I try to feed him, I end up casting up my accounts. Blanks is beside himself with worry. Over me, as usual."

"A son?"

"I do hope for a boy this time."

"Dearest," Felicity said to her sister, "you shouldn’t set yourself up for disappointment. You know you and Blanks will both be deliriously happy just to have a healthy babe."

Glee giggled. "You sound exactly like Blanks. And, of course, you're right. We'll love a he, she, or it. As long as it's ours."

A deep, gnawing pang strummed through Catherine. She was jealous of Glee and Felicity. Not that Catherine ever wished to have to put up with a husband again, but a babe of her own? What woman wouldn’t want one?

If she'd been melancholy at the start of the evening, she was downright blue-deviled now.

She and Glee settled down on one of the red damask settees and started babbling like dear old friends who had long been separated. When Catherine saw the diminutive Mr. Longford come cockily strolling toward her, her blue-devils deepened.

Why had she ever been civil to him? He was like a barnacle she couldn't dislodge.

She needed to have a face-to-face conversation with him—one in which she listened to every syllable he uttered—and clear up this gross misunderstanding. Perhaps she could suggest the two of them go out to the Octagon. While it was not an intimate place, it was a great deal quieter than the ballroom. She vowed that tonight she would terminate this so-called betrothal to Mr. Long
mouth
.

He came and greeted each of them, then asked if he could sit beside her. Because it was the middle of a country dance, he was prevented from asking her to stand up with him.

He squeezed beside her on the settee. "Allow me to say how becoming you look in yellow, my dear Mrs. Bexley."

She was thankful for confirmation that she had not looked like a banana.

As her head bobbed from Glee at her left to Mr. Longford at her right, from the corner of her eye she saw a dark-haired man who towered over others in the room move toward her. She would know him in a million. Even if he did have an identical twin.

From the distance of twenty-five feet she felt his black eyes boring into her own. Her heart began to hammer more with each step closer he came. Like one witnessing a disaster, she was powerless to remove her gaze from him.

He came to stand in front of her, blocking her view of the dancers who were leaving the floor. His hair almost covered the worst of his injuries from earlier in the day, but nothing could conceal the bruises on his face.

"I should be honored if you will stand up with me the next set," he said.

Chapter 16

Why was it every time Melvin danced with her the musicians struck up a waltz? Not that he objected. He'd come here tonight expressly to speak with Mrs. Bexley, and the waltz afforded them that opportunity.

After he'd asked her to dance, she'd placed her hand in his and strolled onto the dance floor. "Are you sure you're up to dancing?" she asked, concern in her voice.

He didn't like to be treated like a bloody child. "I told you earlier, I'm recovered." Except for his bruised pride. How could he have let a man at least twenty years his senior get the better of him? If he ever again saw that blighter, he'd take great pleasure in slamming
his
head into a brick wall until
he
blacked out.

"You never did tell us how much he stole from you."

He had no intentions of telling her or anyone about the guttural threat uttered to him by his attacker. A woman like Mrs. Bexley who lived alone did not need the burden of worrying about reprobates like that man. Melvin would make sure she was never harmed.

That was another reason he had come tonight.

He felt guilty for not being completely honest with his brother, but Elvin worried too much. If Elvin knew of the attackers' threats, he would do everything in his power to keep Melvin from seeking the Chaucer.

Today's threat only served to make Melvin more determined than ever to find it. He had to know who was behind the threats. How could someone have learned that he was searching for the manuscript? Only three people knew: himself, Mrs. Bexley, and Elvin—all of whom could be depended upon not to betray such a confidence.

His dance step slowed as he shrugged. "I couldn't say."

"It's horrifying that a big man such as you should be attacked in broad daylight walking down a busy street in Bath. I'd always thought this city to be perfectly safe."

"Daresay the fellow just took a dislike to me."

"There are small men who can be most jealous of height in their perceived rivals."

Small men like Longford?
"This man was not of our class."

"Oh."

His step slowed, and he looked down into her face. He was unaffected by the feel of her or the light lavender scent of her. "So, Mrs. Bexley, are you still betrothed?"

"I told you I wasn't precisely betrothed."

A cynical smile crossed his face, and his brows elevated. "Precisely?"

"I may have misunderstood his question. At any rate, I've no intention of marrying Mr. Longford. Or any man."

"You realize that if you were to marry him you'd be free of financial worries for the rest of your life?"

"At too dear a cost, I'm afraid."

He chuckled. "Whoever does marry the man has my sympathy."

"As soon as I have the opportunity to speak with Mr. Longford I plan to clear up his misunderstanding about a purported betrothal. I had hoped to do so this afternoon, but then we learned of your misfortune."

He would never forget that spiritual moment when he'd gained consciousness and looked up into her lovely, concerned face. For several seconds he was in another world, one inhabited by sweet smelling angels with Mrs. Bexley's face. "It was very kind of you to come to Green Park Road to offer your services as a nurse. My sisters are useless in situations like that."

"Kindness had nothing to do with it. I was incredibly worried about you. We did not know the extent of your injuries, and I think we all feared the worst. I prayed all the way to Green Park Road."

"I'm deeply appreciative."

"I suppose you came here tonight so you could see how successful your sister's launch into Society has been?"

He really should take more notice of Annie. "Actually I came here to speak to you."

"You've heard from Mr. Whitebread?" She peered into his face, smiling brightly.

"Yes, I've brought the letter so you can see it."

"It's probably another false hope, but it happens to be all I've got."

Even though it was by her own choice she was going this journey alone, he didn't like it.

And he wouldn't have it.

"You never did tell me where he lives," she said.

"He's in Wiltshire."

"How gratifying. That's close."

"Close, but still an arduous journey."

When the music began to taper off, they crossed the dance floor, going opposite Longford's direction and exiting into the Octagon where a number of people were quietly strolling and talking. He moved to stand beneath a wall sconce so the light would be better for her to read, then he extracted Whitebread's letter from his breast pocket. She took it, unfolded it, and began to read.

My Dear Mr. Steffington,

I must tell you how serendipitous getting your letter was. Only the day before I had been in communication with Dr. Mather regarding prospective employment of a curator for my book collections, and he had recommended you.

Conceive of my happiness when I received your letter the very next day! I will be in residence at Stipley Hall until after Christmas and welcome you. I beg that during your visit you allow time for us to discuss the duties here at Stipley.

Cordially,

Whitebread

"I will leave early tomorrow morning," she said.

What if the man who'd beaten him should make good on his threat? Only next time, it could mean Mrs. Bexley's life. "I can't let you. That letter was not written to you. How will you explain yourself?"

She put hands to hips and glared at him. "You have nothing to say regarding my search for the Chaucer."

"You have made that abundantly clear; nevertheless, I cannot allow you to go off like that. It could be entirely too dangerous."

A flicker of emotion lanced across her face. "So what are you suggesting?"

"You need me."

Those spectacular eyes of hers regarded him curiously, but she said not a word.

"It goes against my nature to quit a project before it's reached a successful completion."

They stood there eying one another like two circling bantams. Finally she nodded ever so slightly. "My rented coach will call for you at Green Park Road. Six tomorrow morning."

* * *

It had been difficult for her to conceal her elation when Airy had told her he was back on their
project
. When she returned to the ballroom, her step was lighter. It was as if a heavy cloak of gloom had suddenly been swept from her shoulders. She could face anything now that she and Airy had returned to a hopefully amicable partnership. She vowed to herself that in the future she would seek his opinions and try to abide by them. No more barreling into potential disasters. Hadn't she originally engaged him because of his superior intelligence and sound judgment? She must respect that sound judgment. He had never once disappointed.