Roslyn’s cheeks colored with chagrin, Drew noted, and she sent him an embarrassed glance, yet she didn’t argue with her friend, merely nodded with a wry sigh of resignation.
Lady Freemantle seemed to have recovered from her weakness as she swept into her entrance hall, where she was greeted by her butler. The elderly servant looked distressed when she quickly explained about their frightening experience, but she assured him that the Duke of Arden would handle matters.
“The duke and Miss Loring will be our guests for the night, Pointon,” she added. “Show them to the green parlor, if you please, and bring them refreshments while you attend to their accommodations. His grace has no luggage, but I believe passable attire may be found for him in Sir Rupert’s wardrobe.”
“As you wish, my lady.”
“Oh, and his grace wishes to speak to our bailiff in the morning. Will you have Mr. Hickling summoned at the duke’s convenience?”
“Yes, my lady.”
“Thank you, Pointon. And please send a footman to Miss Blanchard’s house to let Miss Lily Loring know her sister will not be coming this evening.” Lady Freemantle turned to Drew then with an apologetic smile. “I hope you will forgive me, your grace. I am still feeling rather faint and believe I must retire to bed. Roslyn, I trust you to entertain my guest. At the moment I am still too unnerved to be a hospitable hostess.”
Roslyn did protest at that. “Winifred,” she began, her tone tinged with vexation.
Her ladyship held up a hand. “You should have a glass of wine, my dear. I’m sure your nerves are a trifle distraught after that dreadful upset. I will see you in the morning.”
With that, Lady Freemantle turned to ascend the sweeping staircase, leaving Drew alone with the butler and a very irritated Roslyn Loring.
Chapter Five
I agree wholeheartedly with Lily: Winifred’s matchmaking endeavors are maddening! But at least I was able to turn her meddling to my advantage.
– Roslyn to Fanny
Roslyn gritted her teeth, trying to hide her mortification. Initially she’d been alarmed by Winifred’s uncustomary feebleness, but now she was simply vexed, since it was clear that once again her ladyship was attempting to throw her at the duke’s head.
She sent him a fleeting look of apology, hoping he was astute enough to realize that she had played no part in her friend’s machinations, but his look was inscrutable.
Removing her evening cloak, Roslyn handed it to the butler. “I will direct his grace to the parlor, Pointon, if you see to the other arrangements.”
“Very good, Miss Loring.”
Silently then, she led the way down the corridor to the green parlor while Arden followed. It was an ostentatious room that bespoke wealth if not good taste. Although there was no fire in the grate, a lamp burned dimly on the mantel.
Crossing to the lamp, Roslyn turned up the flame before facing the duke with a rueful grimace. “I feel I must apologize for Lady Freemantle, your grace. She is evidently set on matchmaking, but you needn’t feel threatened. You are in no danger from me.”
An ironic smile played across his lips. “I remember. You have set your sights on Haviland.”
Roslyn felt color rise to her cheeks. “Well…yes.” She gestured toward the brocade couch. “Please, make yourself comfortable. Pointon wil
l bring you wine shortly.”
With a polite curtsy, she started to leave, but Arden’s amused drawl followed her. “You needn’t run away again, Miss Loring.”
Her gaze snapping back to his, she halted, nettled by his provoking tone. “I am not running. I am walking to the library to fetch a book to read, since I am too agitated to sleep.”
His penetrating glance surveyed her. “Eleanor told me you are bookish.” When that elicited no response, he said more pointedly, “Stay and have some wine. You look as if you could use it.”
Roslyn hesitated. Winifred had been right on that score at least; she was still shaken by the attempted robbery.
Pointon entered just then with a tray containing a decanter of wine and two crystal wine goblets. When the duke instructed him to leave the tray on a side table, the butler did as he was bid and bowed himself out.
“Sit down, Roslyn,” Arden ordered as he went to the table to pour them each a glass of wine.
Roslyn didn’t protest. Deplorably, her hands were trembling. Sinking onto the couch, she clasped her fingers together and gave a small laugh. “It is foolish to be so missish. The peril is long passed.”
“It isn’t foolish at all,” the duke replied. “You could have been shot tonight.”