The Champion by Archer Kate

Author:Archer, Kate
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Historical
Publisher: Dragonblade Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2022-09-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

“My dear,” Lady Redfield said, crossing the room and taking Arabella’s hands, “you are not to distress yourself. The duchess says he will be like a fly at an open window. He will get in, but he will be of no more consequence than that.”

Dear Lady Redfield. She had really become a very good friend to her. Almost as much as Mrs. Weston had always been.

“I believe the duchess is right,” Arabella said. “He will only be an annoyance, as I think I made clear to him.”

“Goodness, very clear,” Lady Redfield said. “I would have been positively quaking at your age.” The lady paused, then she said, “Though, I do my fair share of quaking now, so I suppose it is only differing temperaments.”

“I think your temperament is lovely, and I could not have ended up with a more perfect person to steer me through a season.”

Lady Redfield became exceedingly flustered by her words and sat on the edge of the bed. “Heavens, well that is very kind, very kind indeed.”

“It is only the truth,” Arabella said. “Now, what do you propose I wear to Lord Ryland’s mystery ball, or mystery supper, or whatever it is?”

“Ah, let me think,” Lady Redfield said, recovering herself, “what is your view on the violet silk?”

“I view it an excellent suggestion. Come, now that is settled, we will go downstairs, and I will ask Mr. Hemmings to bring us tea. We will forget Skeffy was ever here.”

“Oh, yes, let’s do,” Lady Redfield said.

*

Though it was not his usual time for walking, Hemmings had spotted Mr. Sindu setting off toward the square. Such were his feelings after listening by the door upon Lord Skeffington’s arrival, that he felt a walk would do him good.

He was not usually in the habit of listening at doorways, but the lord was of such a terrible reputation that he felt he must stand by were the fellow to become violent or make threats.

Eavesdropping, he discovered, was not for the faint of heart. When he’d heard the front doors opening, he’d had to jump into a closet meant for brooms and dustpans to avoid being spotted.

It had been Lady Arabella and he’d had no way to stop her and warn her before she went in to see Lady Redfield. What was he to do? Jump back out of the closet and claim he’d been checking the brooms?

Lady Arabella had gone in, and shortly thereafter had given Lord Skeffington the what-for. Apparently, she was the owner of a badger who held a very low opinion of the gentleman. He only hoped the badger was not somewhere in the house, as that squirrel had been.

The girl then came storming out of the room and bounding up the stairs as he pretended to organize letters on the hall table.

The whole thing had been nerve-wracking and ended with the idea that Lord Skeffington was to be a regular visitor, though nobody wished him to come!

Now, he sped up his walking until he was, by all appearances, jogging.

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