Free Patricia Wynn by Lord Tom

dear. It is such a pleasure for me to have a new friend —and of the human variety, too. I had best let you have your rest,” she finished cheerily. And with another pat of the hand, she was gone.
    Susan was so touched by Kitty’s kindness and at the same time guilt-ridden to be deceiving her that the strangeness of her ladyship’s last remarks did not strike her immediately. When it did, she merely thought that Lady Mewhinny had a rather sharp sense of humour to be referring to her collection of aged servants as if they were a menagerie. What other explanation could there be?
    She lay down again upon the bed and managed finally, despite the faint shrieking in her ears, to sleep. Unfortunately, her concerns about Lord Harleston were so much on her mind that her dreams were fitful. She dreamed that she waited and waited anxiously for Tom to return, but when she finally searched for him and found him, he was buried to his waist in mud. She wanted desperately to grasp him and pull him out, but could not bring herself to put her arms around him for fear he might think her forward. It was a most disquieting dream.
    When Susan awoke, she found it was near noon. Lady Mewhinny must have left word she was not to be disturbed, for no one had come to bring her breakfast. She leapt from the bed and ran to the window to look for Tom. Her dreams of him were still vivid, and she had some notion of checking to see whether he was stuck in the garden, but all that greeted her eyes were the neat rows of Lady Mewhinny’s vegetables and roses.
    Having still some hope of speaking to Lord Harleston before he could leave, she dressed quickly and went in search of the public rooms. The house was straightforward in design and had no twisting corridors to confuse her, so she came rapidly to the central section. Bates, Lady Mewhinny’s butler, was just coming out of one of the rooms with a tray when she rounded the corner.
    Stepping quickly to catch up with him, Susan called out, “Bates! Oh, Bates!”
    He must not have heard, for he turned away and walked with stately dignity in the opposite direction. Supposing that he might be slightly deaf, Susan gathered her skirt in one hand and ran lightly after him, still calling.
    As she closed with him, however, Susan suddenly came within his hearing, and he turned quickly in time to see her running. She halted breathlessly before him, not a little embarrassed to be caught in such a manner.
    “Yes, madam,” he said, showing no sign of surprise at being thus accosted.
    “Oh, Bates!” Susan breathed anxiously. “I was wondering whez’er someone might be sent to ze stables wiz an instruction for my groom. I would like to speak to ’im before ’e sets out again.”
    Bates bowed stiffly, as if with disdain for her inferior intelligence. “To the best of my knowledge, madam, the person you speak of left several hours ago,” he said. “Right after breaking his fast, if I am not mistaken. But I will enquire if you wish.” His tone suggested she would be greatly in error to doubt any information she received from him.
    Susan shrank, but did not give in. “Yes, please do, Bates. S’ank you.”
    Bates bowed again. This time not so terribly. He seemed to gain respect for someone he could not crush. “I shall see to it immediately, madam. Lady Mewhinny is in the breakfast parlour. If you like, I shall conduct you to her and have something brought up for you shortly.”
    Susan released a breath gratefully and smiled. “S’ank you, Bates. Zat would be delightful.”
    She was shown into a room which bore the same style as the room in which she slept, although the paintings were, in general, more modest than those in her boudoir. Lady Mewhinny was seated at the table sipping tea and reading a stack of papers at her side. From the remnants on her plate, Susan could see she had a remarkably hearty appetite for one her age.
    “Good afternoon, my dear. I see you’ve had your rest.”
    Susan greeted her and