The Reluctant Earl by C.J. Chase Page B

Reconciliation never seemed so far away.
    * * *
    Leah smoothed the rag over Phoebe’s brow. Alice had been none too pleased with the request. But a reminder of the fee Leah paid, along with a suggestion that perhaps the matter could be taken up with Alice’s employer, had convinced the grumbling orderly to bring a cloth and a pan of tepid water.
    Footsteps rapped against the hallway floor, then the door clicked open. Alec strode into the room and settled onto the mattress beside her, lowering a large strong hand to her shoulder. His grim green eyes stared at Phoebe, his cheeks tight with emotion.
    Leah tossed the rag into the basin. “Last night she tried to...”
    “I know. I heard.” He drew Leah close and tucked her head under his chin.
    She rested her face against the rough wool, letting some of the anxiety and fatigue bleed out of her for several blissful moments. The outline of the pistol under her cousin’s coat—left over from his army days—pressed against her cheek.
    Presently, Alec released her and rose. “We should go. You can’t do any more today.”
    “But it will be another week before I can return.”
    “And hopefully Phoebe will be more responsive to visitors. Besides, if we leave now, you’ll arrive back at the Abbey before dark.” Alec jingled the bell.
    Leah brushed her knuckles along her sister’s cheek, the cold skin soft and smooth to her touch. Her impotence weighed heavily on her heart.
    The orderly reappeared, unlocked the door and escorted them to the entrance hall where the matron met them at the door. “Miss Vance?” She waited, hand outstretched.
    Leah opened her reticule and extracted the requisite coins. Only a few remained—not enough to cover Phoebe’s care another week. The great expense of her sister’s extended illness had depleted their father’s legacy by last year. Leah had continued to provide for Phoebe these past few months by furnishing Alec’s...friends with the contents of Lord Sotherton’s correspondence.
    But what to do now? Lord Chambelston had provided only instructions—no payment—before his hasty and mysterious departure.
    “I heard Chambelston left the county.” Alec seemingly read her mind as he escorted her along the drive.
    “Thursday morning.”
    “Will he be returning?”
    “Assuredly.”
    The gatekeeper let them out with a cheery wave. Leah breathed more easily outside the estate’s confining atmosphere.
    Alec fell into step beside her. “Tell me about Lord Sotherton’s other guests.”
    “Viscount Killiane and his brother, Mr. Fleming.” Fortunately, with the departure of both Mr. Warren and Chambelston, Lady Sotherton hadn’t needed to press Leah and Miss Godwin into attending dinner again. “Viscount Killiane will be leaving with Sotherton for London tomorrow.”
    “It’s my understanding that while Killiane is a frequent visitor, Fleming hasn’t called on his family in some time.”
    “Three years.” Thirty wouldn’t have been long enough.
    “I can understand why Killiane would visit his uncle, what with their mutual interest in politics. But what is Fleming’s business?”
    “Pleasure, I suppose.” His, and no one else’s. “So far as I know, it’s his only occupation.”
    “That makes no sense. If the man is a fribble, what would he be doing in Northamptonshire in the middle of winter? He’ll find no entertainment here.”
    “Perhaps he needed a retreat from his creditors? For certain, he and Lord Killiane seem to be at daggers’ drawn.”
    “So two men who can’t stand each other decide to travel from Ireland to Northamptonshire to spend the remainder of their holiday together?”
    A fair point. So why had Reginald Fleming come? To torment his brother?
    To torment her?
    The houses and barns of tiny Norford loomed before them with a crossroads in the center of the hamlet where she and Alec would part. The road to their right led south toward his lodgings in Heckton, while the other direction headed westward