Hugo cleared his throat. “Then perhaps yours should not be the first face she sees upon waking. Clearly your presence causes her distress.”
He should tell the lord to leave, throw the rakish gentleman out for his past misdemeanour. But the thought of him taking his granddaughter away from Wollaston Hall caused a sudden pang in Hugo’s chest.
“There is a marked difference between shock and distress,” the lord replied as he stared at Hugo’s mother with the tenderness of a man with good intentions. “But know that the last thing I wish to do is cause her upset.”
Miss Bennett stepped closer and touched Hugo’s sleeve. “Perhaps it’s best that she sees him. The mere mention of his name affects her deeply. Is it not better to discover the reason for such strong reactions? For Lady Denham’s sake?”
As always, Miss Bennett’s logical comments eased his anxiety. “Very well, but should my mother insist you leave, I must abide by her request.” Good God! His stomach roiled at the thought of standing at the window and watching Miss Bennett disappear from his life as quickly as whence she came.
“I understand, Denham.” Forsyth glanced up at his granddaughter and smiled. “You look beautiful in red, Lara, just as I knew you would.”
Hugo’s stomach roiled again. Numerous times this evening, he’d imagined capturing Miss Bennett in his arms and whispering similar words of praise, though he’d been raining kisses along her delicate jawline, too.
“It is not my preferred choice,” she said, echoing the sentiment she had expressed earlier.
“As I well know.” Mischief flashed in Forsyth’s dark eyes. “And your modiste has been a little more daring with the cut, I see.”
“Too daring. I shall have words with her when next we meet.” Miss Bennet’s smile faded. “But before Lady Denham wakes, we must tell you of something dreadful that occurred last night. Well, perhaps it is better if his lordship explains.” She cast Hugo a look filled with confidence in his ability to speak tactfully.
“I’m sure you must know Lord Bellham,” Hugo began, stealing a quick glance at his mother.
“Frederick? Indeed. He often visits me in Chippenham. I’ve thrashed him at piquet more times than I can count.” Forsyth arched a brow. “What of it?”
“We found his nephew Bertram collapsed at the gate last night, a blade thrust between his ribs.”
“A blade? What the devil!” Forsyth did not jump to his feet in shock but remained crouched at Lady Denham’s side, gripping her hand. “Is he dead?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“Have you informed the boy’s father? What did the coroner say? Was it footpads?”
“The coroner lives on the road to Marlborough, some three miles past Pewsey. We’re still awaiting his arrival and that of the magistrate Sir Ellis.” It suddenly occurred to Hugo that Lord Forsyth had made the twenty-mile journey from Chippenham when the blizzards made it impossible for people to travel more than a few miles.
Lord Forsyth turned to his granddaughter. A mix of fear and guilt flashed in his eyes. “You say you found Bellham’s body? And you’ve borne such distress alone, my dear?”
“We found the gentleman.” Miss Bennett tapped Hugo lightly on the coat sleeve, an action that caused Lord Forsyth to narrow his gaze. “Lord Denham has been a great support, and we’ve borne the burden together.”
No doubt guilt flashed in Hugo’s eyes, too. A gentleman of Lord Forsyth’s reputation, with a granddaughter of unequivocal beauty, would jump to the obvious conclusion.
“We were riding back from West Chisenbury after retrieving Miss Bennett’s valise,” Hugo explained.
“Most men would send a groom.”
“I am not most men.”
An awkward silence descended.
Thankfully, his mother chose the opportune moment to open her eyes and mutter a few incoherent words. She gripped Lord Forsyth’s hand and looked the distinguished gentleman in the eye. Two blinks was all it took for her to snatch her hand back and shoot bolt upright.
“Montague?” The name came out in a breathless pant.
“It seems you suffered a shock, Penelope.” Forsyth spoke in the smooth, rich voice of a man who nurtured an affection for the lady on the sofa. Indeed, the energy in the room shifted, grew intimate rather than tense. “I’m the last person you expected to see, I know.”
The lady clasped her hands to her chest and gulped. She tried to speak, but no words escaped. It was the first time Hugo had ever seen the matron dumbstruck. Her frantic gaze searched Forsyth’s face, his sleek hair, the expensive cut of his coat.
“You look remarkably well,” she said softly, tucking a few loose tendrils behind her ears as she continued to stare through watery eyes. Oddly, her voice was lighter than he’d ever heard before.
“And you are just as beguiling.”