Free Pretty Persuasion by Olivia Kingsley Page A

with her father's approval. A man who'd most likely not countenance her desire to travel the world.
    It was almost enough to make her vow never to marry at all.
    A knock came on the door, and Mr. Cameron's head poked through. "Accommodations have been acquired."
    Both men looked to her, and she jerked her head in a nod. She stepped into the pitch-black of the night, wedged between a Scots oaf and an unnerving rat, apprehension slowing her progress.
    Better the devil you know…
She silently recited the adage. It was the only way to stop herself from fleeing.
    ELIZABETH DIDN'T NORMALLY mind her husband's company for supper, but that night was an exception. She had scarcely seen him that week, and a happy circumstance it had been, besides; for in his own absence, he had not noticed their daughter's. It had given Elizabeth an excuse, albeit meager, not to tell him.
    She knew she ought to have informed him by now, but she had managed to convince herself it was better not to worry him unnecessarily. Better to wait until she received word from Sheffield and knew if the news she had to impart was simply bad, or utterly disastrous.
    She had no doubt Charles would notice the empty spot at the dinner table tonight, however. Thankfully, he didn't seem aware that she hardly touched her food. Politics was naturally the topic of conversation, but he appeared oblivious to her unusual lack of enthusiasm. She could summon little interest in the Corn Laws, the abolition of the slave trade, or the ongoing war with the French at present.
    Dessert was her undoing. Elizabeth's stomach turned over as the footman placed the silver-gilt basket of ripe strawberries on the table, usually a favorite of hers. She could not help herself: she grimaced. And that, Charles noticed. "Are you well, my dear?" he asked, his brows creasing.
    "Yes." Anxiety tugged at her, and she swallowed hard. "I simply do not seem to have an appetite tonight."
    His frown deepened. "Lady Ashcombe told me you felt unwell at Lady Mansell's party on Tuesday. Perhaps you ought to be attended by a physician."
    "Oh, nonsense. You know how Arabella exaggerates."
    He motioned for more wine, and the butler stepped forward to fill his glass. "She also suggested I convince you to go to Bath, to take the waters."
    "I'm sure she did." The subject of her sister was a dangerous one, since Georgie was supposedly accompanying Arabella on a visit to their great-aunt Davenport. "Speaking of Bath, did Richard tell you when he would return?"
    Her husband leaned against his chair's latticed back. "No, he did not. Nor did I think to ask."
    "It's very curious. Ashcombe and Grimthorpe went as well, and I cannot imagine what the three of them would find of interest there. When I mentioned it to Mr. Anthony Balfour, his reaction was rather odd. I can't help thinking they're not in Bath at all."
    "Whatever they're about, I'm sure I'd rather not know," Charles said gruffly.
    Elizabeth gave a quiet sigh. "You're almost certainly right, though I cannot help but worry. It is a mother's prerogative, is it not?"
    She curled her hand around the napkin in her lap as Charles's gaze fell on the chair to her left. He frowned, and she panicked. Scrambling to think of a topic that would distract him, she said, "I met Lord Sheffield at Lady Mansell's party. I didn't even know he had returned. He said you had called on him. Why did you not tell me?"
    Her husband stared at her, his face twisted with annoyance. "I did not think the business concerned you. He had not yet sent out his card. You would have learned of his return as soon as he wished it."
    Elizabeth harrumphed. She had no doubt Charles had been aware of Lord Sheffield's presence the moment the man stepped over the threshold of his town house. Charles, after all, knew everything.
    She glanced at Georgie's empty seat. Well, perhaps not
everything.
    "His presence certainly concerns Georgie," she argued. "We're family, Charles. Such knowledge ought to be