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“Talk? You encouraged him to talk?” Honora’s eyes flashed. “I simply must insist that you refrain from visiting my father-in-law unless you first check with me.” Seeing the look of surprise on the faces of her guests, Honora added quickly, “As mistress of Falcon’s Lair, I am responsible for William’s father.” She shot a glance at the doctor. “Don’t you agree, Ian?”
“Quite.” He set his empty goblet on the tray with a clatter. “The old man is too ill to have visitors dropping by at all hours. It’s far too draining. I’ve suggested to Honora that even Simmons should be restricted to one or two visits a day.”
“That seems heartless,” Diana cried.
Everyone turned to look at her.
With her cheeks burning, she added, “It would tear Simmons apart to be denied access to Lord Falcon. You said yourself, Father, that the two have been inseparable since they were lads.”
“Indeed. Simmons was groomed for the position by his own father, who was butler to Oliver’s father. I’ve never known a time when Simmons wasn’t tending to Oliver’s needs. Except, of course, when Oliver was traipsing off to some godforsaken corner of the world. The Falcons have always been an adventuresome lot,” he added with a sigh.
Maud paused in the doorway to announce, “Supper is ready, m’lady.”
With a satisfied nod, Honora linked her arm through Lord Summerville’s and led the way to the dining room, with Ian St. John escorting Lady Summerville, and Diana and Felicity trailing behind.
“Did you happen to look in on William?” Diana asked softly.
Felicity shook her head. “I’m afraid not. I haven’t even met him yet.”
“Perhaps it’s just as well.” Diana’s voice trembled for just a moment before she added, “He seems to grow weaker with each passing day.”
“Perhaps an infirmary could be of some help. Or a sanitorium, where he could rest and recover his health.”
The young woman shook her head. “Honora won’t hear of it. She wants William by her side. And why not? They were barely wed when this happened. Who can blame her for wanting to spend as much time as possible with her new husband before…”
Her voice trailed off, and she bit her lip to keep it from trembling.
“Here we are.” Lord Summerville held a chair as Honora took her place at the head of a long table, with Ian St. John at her right and Lady Summerville at her left. Diana sat beside her father, and Felicity took the seat beside the doctor.
The meal was long, consisting of eight courses. At some other time Felicity would have found it a marvelous experience. The roasted pork, the beef and mutton, were done to perfection. As promised, Cook’s tarts were the best she’d ever tasted. But she found the evening tedious. The endless chatter grated on her nerves. All she could think of was the fact that someone wanted her harmed, or worse, dead. And upstairs, an old man, alone in his bed, was hoping for a magic cure. But why had he summoned her father? Robert Andrews’ experiences in the field of health and science were limited to exotic medicines.
“I know you long for the excitement of London,” Lady Summerville was saying to her hostess, “but I do hope you’re beginning to look more kindly on our little bit of England.”
“It has its moments.” Honora pushed aside her tart and picked up a goblet of wine.
“And you, Ian,” Lord Summerville put in. “I should think it’s a relief to be home after so many months away.”
Felicity looked up. “Where were you, Dr. St. John?”
“Africa.” He twirled the stem of his goblet, staring into the clear, pale liquid. “A fascinating place.”
Felicity felt a curl of ice along her spine. “What were you doing in that far-off land?”
He lifted his head and met her gaze. His smile was chillingly bland. “Studying exotic medicines.”
5
Felicity’s nerves feltstretched to the breaking point. She could no longer concentrate on the others around the table. All her thoughts centered on one inescapable fact. Out of desperation, Lord Falcon had sent for her father, and not merely because he needed a friend. It was much more than that. He needed her father’s expertise.
Could it be that the old man’s illness had been induced? But if that were so, it would have to mean that the handsome, charming man beside her—
She pushed away from the table.
The conversation abruptly ceased.
“What is it, my dear?” Lord Summerville touched a napkin to his lips and started to rise. A touch of Honora’s hand on his sleeve stopped him.
“Nothing. Perhaps I am more tired than I thought.” Felicity took several halting steps and prayed her trembling legs wouldn’t fail her. “Please don’t let me spoil your meal. I believe I’ll just catch a breath of air.”