Footmen flung back the double doors as he approached and sunlight streamed in, blinding him. Instinct took him out on to the top step, the swirling lights that distorted his vision revealing the shape of the approaching carriage like an image that had been torn across and reassembled out of true.
He was conscious of a presence at his side, of Kate’s delicate scent. She made no move to touch him. Then the shape that was the carriage stopped. Footmen hurried down the steps, Grant fixed a smile of welcome on his lips. His vision was failing as the circle of broken, dancing lights enclosing nothing but blackness moved inexorably outwards. In a moment he would be blind.
‘Grant! Are we the first?’ It was Alex.
‘Yes, you are. Welcome.’ A figure in green wavered beside Alex and he broadened the smile, painfully. ‘Tess, you are more than welcome to Abbeywell. Come and meet my wife.’
Then they were up the steps and beside them. He managed not to retch at the waft of rose scent as Tess stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. Alex gripped his hand and, turning, tucked it through his own. ‘Migraine?’ he murmured. Then he raised his voice. ‘And this must be Lady Allundale, you clever devil, Grant. Ma’am, I am Alex Tempest and this is my wife, Tess. I am delighted to meet you at last.’
Alex swung round, taking Grant with him to stroll into the hall. ‘Ladies, you will excuse us, but I must be off to consult Grant’s valet this minute—I have a hideously uncomfortable nail working through the sole of these new boots.’
Grant found himself climbing the stairs and managed to get out, ‘What the blazes—’
‘You are blind with a migraine, Lady Allundale is as white as a sheet and Grimswade looks as though he has sat on a poker. What’s wrong? No, don’t try to talk. Same room as usual?’
Alex steered Grant into his bedchamber, pushed him on to the bed, pulled off his boots. ‘Lie down, I’ll send your valet in.’
Grant tried to sit up and was ruthlessly shoved back. ‘I can’t… You are guests, Cris and Gabe will be arriving…’
‘We’re friends, not guests. Leave it to me.’ There was a rattle of curtain rings, the light against his eyelids was reduced. Then silence, broken only by the soft-footed entrance of Griffin, who pressed a glass into Grant’s hand.
‘Willow-bark powder, my lord.’
He gulped it down, wincing at the bitter taste, lay back and tried to make his mind blank, relax his tense muscles. As soon as he could see, he would have to go downstairs and, somehow, come to terms with Kate.
Chapter Fourteen
‘Here they are.’ Lady Weybourn turned to the door. ‘Or, rather, here is mine. Where is Grant, Alex? I didn’t think he looked well.’
‘Migraine.’ Alex Tempest strolled in to the drawing room and smiled reassuringly at Kate. ‘Haven’t seen him blind with one for a while. I’ve sent his valet to him,’ he added as Kate jumped to her feet with a murmur of distress. ‘He’ll be fine as long as he’s quiet. There’s nothing to be done.’
With him on his feet the only courteous thing to do was sit down. Griffin would send for her if she was needed and probably the last thing Grant wanted was his unsatisfactory wife fussing over him. She sat and Alex dropped his elegant length into a chair. ‘He is subject to migraines? I did not know.’ It was his anger at discovering her trespass into the forbidden rooms that had triggered it. And Lord Weybourn said he was blind with it.
‘Only occasionally. It is very stressful situations when he can’t act to resolve things, that’s what usually sets them off. If he can act and do something, then Grant copes with anything.’ Alex Tempest smiled his lazy, reassuring smile again. ‘And he’s a stubborn so-and-so. He’ll be on his feet the minute he can see clearly, even if his head still hurts. I don’t expect that blow he got in New Town helped any.’
‘No, probably not.’ She wrenched her thoughts away from guilt and worry and focused on her guests. ‘Now, would you like to take some refreshment, or shall I show you to your rooms first?’
‘Some tea would be very welcome.’ Lady Weybourn unpinned her hat and set it aside, then peeled off her gloves as Kate rang for Grimswade.
‘Tea and some food, Grimswade. Do you know where Lord Brooke has got to?’
‘I do not, I regret to say, my lady. However, I venture to suggest that the production of cake will cause him to appear.’
‘Uncle Alex!’ Charlie erupted into the room and leapt at Lord Weybourn, who caught him, stood up and held him upside down by his heels.
‘Good afternoon, Lord Brooke.’
His wife rolled her eyes at Kate. ‘Do put him down, darling. He’ll be sick.’
Eventually order was restored, Charlie was silenced by the threat of the withdrawal of cake and Kate once more embarked on making polite conversation with these two very informal strangers.
‘You have known Grant for a long time, Lord Weybourn?’
‘Alex, please. Yes, since university, along with Cris de Feaux and Gabriel Stone. We were known as the Four Disgraces, but I assure you we are sober and responsible now.’
Lady Weybourn snorted inelegantly. ‘Nonsense, darling. You are merely better at hiding the insobriety and irresponsibility these days.’ She turned to Kate. ‘I think we are very brave, taking on two of them. We must see what we can do about finding nice civilising wives for the others, don’t you think, Lady Allundale?’
‘Oh, Kate, please. I don’t know the others, so I really can’t say.’ The thought of Grant being a Disgrace would be funny if she wasn’t feeling so apprehensive and guilty.