while in London years ago.
“Uncle Augustus, Egbert, I see you are enjoying the stables,” Lord Leighton said in a voice that made Elizabeth glad she wasn’t one of the men.
“Dashed fine lot of horseflesh, my boy. Dashed fine,” replied the older man. He had the look of the Percys, but his skin was raddled, most likely from too much port, and his eyes above sagging pouches of skin looked cynical. While his clothing was spotless, the coat was several years behind the current styles and his vest amazingly plain.
Egbert glanced at his father and said, “That new mare appears to be an excellent addition, cousin.”
“See that she remains that way, Egbert,” David replied, giving his cousin a steady look.
With that. Lord Leighton ushered his guests to the closed carriage awaiting them in front of the house.
“You have done well, David,” Aunt Bel praised, “in spite of that man Filpot. I shall feel better, however, when Elizabeth takes up her nursing duties. A pity your father would not allow Purvis to attend him.”
“We have yet to see how he takes to Elizabeth,” Lord Leighton reminded her.
“Everyone adores Elizabeth. Girl can charm a bird from a bush. I do not foresee any difficulty in that quarter. Perhaps she can succeed where the doctor has failed. However, I cannot say I have ever had much faith in Dr. Dibble.” She glanced fondly at Elizabeth. “Just keep her safe, my boy.”
Elizabeth shared a shocked look with Lord Leighton. What did her aunt think might happen?
“I had believed we would do rather better than that, my lady,” his lordship declared.
“Fools frequently do. See that you remember that.” She glanced at her locket watch, then turned to leave.
Elizabeth followed her aunt into the carriage, pausing only to inform Lord Leighton when she would return.
David watched the carriage roll down the drive with misgivings. Keep Elizabeth Dancy safe? The girl who so intrepidly shot at an intruder in the dark? He’d rather nurse a keg of blasting powder.
When he reentered the house, his relatives were nowhere to be seen. Trusting his memory, he ambled to the library door, where he found them inside. The remains of tea lay ignored while they sipped excellent port and discussed the morning’s ride. He watched them for a moment before joining them. He took care to preserve his invalidish appearance.
“Pretty little gel. Pretty,” Lord Augustus stated firmly, a twinkle lighting his rheumy eyes.
“Odd time of day to be paying a call, wouldn’t you say?” Egbert added, unable to keep the curiosity from his voice.
“Lady Montmorcy is a dear friend of my father’s. Did you chance to know her years ago, before she wed and moved to the country. Uncle?” David strolled over to stand by the fire, warming himself, and wishing he might rest. Although the injury was not as serious as he led Elizabeth to believe, it did pain him some.
“Believe I did. Bound to. Knew everyone in those days,” his uncle replied, looking deeply into his glass of port. “Am sure I did. Believe your father rather fancied her at one time.”
“And you, Egbert? I vow I am surprised you had not met Miss Elizabeth. She was everywhere to be seen in Society last Season. Or do you prefer other company while in the city?” David suggested in an even tone.
An angry redness crept up on Egbert’s face as he stared at his cousin.
“Lightskirts. The boy enjoys his fun, David. Pity you are not more inclined that way. Been Friday-faced ever since you came home. Can’t think why you stay. Ought to find a good lightskirt to keep you company. Yes, sir, a good lightskirt.” Lord Augustus pounded his left fist on the arm of the high-backed chair to emphasize his point.
“I do well enough while in Town, Uncle, as you would know if you ever went there. And you well know that I am here because of the summons from Filpot. My father is ill. Or had you forgotten?” He studied the trio who sat by the fireplace, the glow of