Bound By A Scandalous Secret

She had just finished another attempt and was contemplating ripping it up when there was a knock at her door. Her maid, probably. ‘Come in,’ she called, placing the drawing face down on her table.

‘Genna—’ It was Lorene.

Genna turned and rose from her chair. ‘How is—?’ she began.

Lorene did not let her finish. ‘He is better. The fever broke during the night and now he is resting more comfortably.’

‘I am glad for you,’ Genna said.

Lorene waved her words away.

Genna walked over to her. ‘You look as if you need rest, too. Might you not lie down now?’

Lorene nodded. ‘I believe I will. I just wanted you to know.’

‘Thank you.’ Genna felt careful, as if talking to a stranger. ‘I am glad to know it.’

Lorene turned to leave, but a footman appeared in the corridor.

‘My lady, two gentlemen have called to enquire after his lordship’s health,’ he said. ‘Lord Rossdale and Lord Penford.’

Genna’s heart fluttered. She would be excited for any company, would she not? Of course, they had not come to call upon her.

Lorene put a hand to her hair. ‘Oh, dear. I am not presentable.’ She turned to Genna. ‘Would you entertain them until I can make myself fit for company?’

‘Certainly. Anything to help.’ Genna turned to the footman. ‘Where are they?’ There were so very many rooms in this house where visitors might be received.

‘I put them in the Mount Olympus room,’ he replied.

The room with the ceiling and walls covered with scenes from mythology, cavorting, nearly naked gods, all painted over a century before.

‘Very good,’ Lorene told him. ‘Have Cook prepare some tea and biscuits.’

‘Tea?’ Genna said. ‘Offer them wine. Claret or sherry or something.’

Lorene pursed her lips. ‘Very well. Some wine, then, as well as tea and biscuits.’

The footman bowed and rushed off.

Lorene glanced at Genna.

‘I can go down directly.’ Genna took off the apron she wore to cover her dress and hurried to wash the charcoal off her fingers. She dried her hands. ‘I’m off!’

* * *

Ross craned his neck and stared in wonder at the ceiling. It looked as if the mighty Zeus and all the lesser gods surrounding him might tumble down on to his head.

‘This is quite a room,’ he remarked. ‘I am reminded of our Grand Tour—the palaces of Rome and Venice. Remember the murals? On every ceiling it seemed.’

‘A man cannot think. The room fills the mind too much,’ Dell responded.

Ross grinned. ‘We did not do much thinking in those days, did we?’

Dell nodded, his face still grim. ‘None at all, I recall.’

Ross perused the ceiling and walls again. ‘In those days we would have been riveted by the naked ladies.’ He stopped in front of one such figure, a goddess who appeared as if she would step out from the wall and join them.

Dell paced. ‘Remind me again why we were compelled to come here?’

Ross had already explained. ‘You wanted to become acquainted with Lord Tinmore, so calling to enquire after his health is only polite, especially after his illness kept him away from your dinner.’

The door opened and both men turned. Ross smiled. It was Genna, the one person he’d hoped to see when he concocted this scheme to call at Tinmore Hall.

Genna strode over to them. ‘Rossdale. Penford. How good of you to call. My sister will be here in a few minutes. She has ordered refreshment for you, as well.’

Dell frowned. ‘Lord Tinmore is still ill, then?’

‘Lorene can better answer your questions.’ She gave Dell a cordial smile. ‘But, yes, Tinmore remains unwell.’

She gestured to the gilt stools cushioned in green damask that lined the walls of the room. ‘Do sit.’

The room was in sore need of a rearrangement of furniture more conducive to conversation, Ross thought. A style more in tune with the present.

‘Tell me, how is the weather?’ Genna asked politely. ‘I see our snow still covers the fields. Was it not terribly cold to ride this distance?’

‘Not so terribly cold.’ Ross kept his expression bland. ‘I suspect some people would consider walking this far even when it is cold outside.’ He darted a glance her way and saw she understood his joke.

‘We felt it our duty to enquire into Lord Tinmore’s health,’ Dell said solemnly.

‘How very good of you,’ she responded, her voice kind.

Ross gave her an approving look.

‘How were the roads?’ she asked.

Dell shrugged. ‘Slippery in places, but the horses kept their footing.’

‘I think they relished the exercise,’ Rossdale added. He’d relished it, as well.

She looked at a loss for what else to say. He fished around to find a topic and rescue her from having to make conversation.

She beat him to it. ‘Tell me, do you plan to stay at Summerfield House for Christmastide?’

‘At present that is our plan,’ Dell responded.

Genna looked surprised. ‘Do you not travel to visit your families?’

Dell averted his gaze and Rossdale answered. ‘We decided to avoid all that.’