The three servants went strangely still, avoiding each others’ eyes. “No, sir,” Pomeroy answered. “The doctor wouldn’t come.”
“Wouldn’t come?” the gentleman’s eyes blazed. “What the devil do you mean, he wouldn’t come?”
“He knows his lordship can’t pay him. Sir.”
There was more than a hint of animosity in his voice. The gentleman heard it, and his face colored. Suddenly his anger was gone, replaced by discomfort. “Ah, I see. Well, send for him directly and inform him that I shall pay him.”
“Yes, sir, thank you, sir.” The elderly butler looked very relieved.
Daniel Coachman was carrying Max up the steps and into his townhouse, with the elderly Pomeroys tottering in his wake, and that was when Marietta realized she had been overlooked. The gentleman in the green-colored frock coat was last up the steps, calling out more instructions as he went—in a moment he would be gone, too, and she would be left, standing all alone, in the street.
“Excuse me, sir?”
At the sound of her voice the tall, thin stranger stopped and turned. His eyes were the same mahogany brown color as Max’s, but far less intimidating. “I’m sorry, you are…?”
“I am Miss Marietta Greentree. I accompanied Ma…that is, Lord Roseby, from Aphrodite’s Club. He was too ill to travel alone and none of his servants had come to help him.”
There was an implied criticism in her words and the gentleman was not slow in understanding her. “As you see, Miss Greentree, the Pomeroys are elderly and would not have been of much use. They were better remaining here, preparing the house. Daniel had to drive the coach, but he is a good lad and could be relied upon to help when needed. As for myself, I have only just arrived or you can be sure I would instantly have offered my services.” His tone was polite, but his gaze had grown watchful.
“But, surely, he has other servants?”
“I’m afraid not.”
Of course not, Marietta thought. He can’t pay them. He’s disinherited. This is all he has left—an elderly butler and his wife, and a coachman. He’s no longer Lord Roseby—he’s a nobody.
The gentleman had ventured back to the street, and now his puzzled gaze slid quickly over her, taking in her emerald green velvet cloak and fair ringlets. Marietta realized that he was trying to decide just what her role was at Aphrodite’s Club. Perhaps she did not fit his image of a courtesan-in-the-making, for a moment later he smiled and bowed and introduced himself.
“I am Harold Valland, Miss Greentree—Max’s cousin. Pomeroy sent a note to my house this morning, informing me of what had happened. If only I had known last night, I would have hastened at once to his side.”
Harold sounded sincere, but was he? Marietta wasn’t certain. Perhaps she was predisposed to distrust Harold because he was Max’s cousin and the duke had chosen him as the new heir over Max. He did not seem too awful.
Marietta smiled. “Lord Roseby has a headache and I think some fever. He will need his doctor to attend him, sir.”
“Yes, yes, Pomeroy will go for the man.” Then, perhaps realizing that she had been a witness to that scene, Harold looked away. “I don’t know how well you are acquainted with my cousin, Miss Greentree—”
“I know a little of his life, Mr. Valland.”
“He is a very proud man. One does what one can, but one must tread carefully.
”
“I imagine one must.”
Harold seemed to believe that was explanation enough. “I should go and see if the Pomeroys have made Max comfortable. Thank you, Miss Greentree, for your kindness to my cousin.”
“I must get back. My sister will be worried.” Marietta knew a dismissal when she heard one.
Harold was looking up towards the house, obviously keen to get inside and see to Max. “Your sister?” he said vaguely.
“Lady Montegomery.”
Harold started, and turned back to her. For a moment his face was blank, and she had an image of his brain, working furiously through a list of the aristocracy currently residing in London. “Do you mean that your sister is the wife of—”
“Lord Montegomery. Yes, Oliver is my brother-in-law.”
The penny dropped. He smiled, obviously relieved that she was the sister of a peer, and therefore respectable. “Of course. Of course! Lord Montegomery, of course. But you must come inside and wait, Miss Greentree, while I have a hansom fetched.”
Amazing, Marietta thought, what dropping Oliver’s name could do. Still, she could hardly hold being a snob against Harold—it was a common enough tendency.