Patricia Wynn by Lord Tom

Author:Lord Tom [Tom, Lord]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

As soon as she was safely inside her bedchamber, Susan collapsed against the closed door in horror. Mr. Petworthy’s intentions with respect to his aunt were evil ones, she was certain. No lighter interpretation could possibly be made of his comments. He was desperate for funds, and he and the doctor had come down into Sussex with an idea for disposing somehow of poor Kitty! She must do something fast, but yet she had no information on which to act.

What was it he had said? Oh, yes, she recalled: he was happy that she should be leaving in the morning for that would make his task easier. Then I must not leave, Susan thought anxiously. How could she leave, when Lady Mewhinny needed her so desperately? She, of course, would be unaware of her nephew’s evil intent, and perhaps would not even believe it if Susan were to tell her.

Then Tom and I must handle it, Susan decided. Yet how were they to make an excuse to stay on, when she had clearly said they would leave on the morrow? She must get a message to Tom so that he could make up an excuse—a broken carriage wheel or some such thing. He would know what to do.

It was then that it occurred to her she must not assume Lord Harleston would be game to stay on at her bidding. “Oh, I’ve already involved you in enough of my nonsense,” she said miserably, as though he were there in the room with her. “I must not drag you into this.” There was nothing for it but to explain the situation to Lord Harleston and ask him to leave. She would have to stay on with Lady Mewhinny alone. Knowing him as she now did, she was certain he would put up a fuss, but she must convince him somehow. The clandestine nature of their friendship posed its own dangers, chiefly to her heart. Had she not just started planning his involvement again? It seemed so easy to forget who he really was and why they were there. He was much too reliable, too comforting and too strong. If he continued to help her, she would not be able to stop her feelings for him from developing. So he must—he absolutely must go this time.

It was a painful decision, but once having made it, Susan did not hesitate for an instant. She would have to be certain of the message getting to him, she realized, for there was no time for mistakes. Hastily taking a pen and some paper from the elaborately gilded escritoire in her chamber, she wrote a careful message in French so that none of the servants would be able to read it.

“Come to my room at midnight,” she wrote. She started to add, “I must speak to you urgently,” but was not certain of some of the French words. So after struggling over it for what seemed a considerable waste of time, she decided a person

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