Page 27 of Enlightened
“This is Mr. Lauriston,” Murdo advised his butler. “My new secretary.”
Liddle bowed to David, his expression devoid of curiosity. David fought the urge to bow back, settling for inclining his head more respectfully than was probably strictly proper.
The butler turned back to Murdo. “Shall I prepare the Blue Room for Mr. Lauriston, my lord?”
“No,” Murdo said. “The Green.”
David’s gaze flickered between the two men. Liddle merely nodded at Murdo’s instruction, and already David could see that the man was far too discreet to react in any way to anything he heard. But David wondered if he’d detected a ripple of interest. Something, perhaps about the way the man studiouslydidn’tlook at David in response to Murdo’s order. A brief glance might have been expected had Murdo merely agreed with the servant’s suggestion, mightn’t it? Or perhaps David was being oversensitive? Perhaps Liddle truly thought nothing of it?
“We’ll take some refreshments in the drawing room just now,” Murdo informed the butler, resting his hand at the small of David’s back and urging him forward. David felt that hand like a brand, a prickle of discomfort going up his spine as he wondered what the butler made of them.
Already David could see that this house was quite unlike the one in Edinburgh. The Edinburgh house was plush and masculine, with solid, comfortable furniture. This was far more elegant and far more formal, everything sharp and bright and hard-edged. The drawing room that Murdo led David into was twice the size of an ordinary room. The fireplace was huge, carved from white marble, and the walls were pale blue up to the picture rail, the expensive wallpaper reflecting the light like frost. Above the picture rail, everything was white. David looked up, his eyes drawn first to the ornate cornicing, and then to the crystal chandelier that hung from the plaster ceiling rose, its droplets sparkling like ice. It was a beautiful room, but cold. Even the furniture was cold, upholstered in spotless, ivory satin, making David conscious of his crumpled, dusty travel clothes.
“Stop fretting and sit down,” Murdo said, sounding amused. He had already settled himself into the largest armchair in the room, by the fireplace. After a moment, David crossed to the sofa opposite Murdo, dusting off the tails of his coat before carefully lowering himself down.
“How’s your leg?”
“Not too bad,” David replied. In truth, his leg ached but talking about his injury was beginning to bore him.
“Perhaps it’s done you a bit of good to rest it,” Murdo said. “You may have been overdoing the exercise.”
“I feel better when I exercise it though,” David replied. “I’ll be glad to get back to walking again.” He yawned broadly, and a moment later, Murdo did too, making them both grin. “My sleepiness is catching,” David observed.
“Perhaps we should have an afternoon nap?” Murdo suggested, cocking a suggestive brow, the corner of his generous mouth twitching appealingly.
David sighed with genuine regret. “I should really go over to Blackfriars as soon as I can,” he said, adding after a pause, “I’ll walk over there this afternoon.”
Murdo’s grin faded at that, but he didn’t protest. “At least take the carriage,” he said. “It’s miles away, and you don’t know London at all.”
“It’s only a couple of miles. It’ll take me an hour at most, and in truth I’d like to see a bit of the city on foot. I promise to take my cane.”
“I’ll come with you, then.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” David murmured. Euan was living in the same house as Elizabeth, and even though Murdo had indirectly helped Elizabeth escape from Kinnell, the last occasion on which the two men had seen one another was two years before, when Euan had been holding a gun to David’s head. Despite everything that had happened since then, David suspected that Murdo still didn’t trust Euan and that he wouldn’t trouble to hide his feelings. David would have enough to deal with, giving Elizabeth the news about her father, without having to worry about anything else.
Murdo pressed his lips together. David could tell he was desperate to say something—probably to try to lay down the law—but was somehow managing to stop himself. Over the months they’d spent together at Laverock House, Murdo had come to realise that he couldn’t make David do what he wanted with either verbal demands or coercion, and seeing his lover’s reluctant acceptance of that was amusing and oddly touching.
David stayed deliberately quiet for a while, allowing Murdo to simmer in peace, while his own mind drifted ahead to what he would say to Elizabeth and Euan about Chalmers. How did one break news like that? He considered and discarded a dozen different openings.
Eventually, a footman entered the dining room bearing a heavily loaded tray, which Murdo ordered him to place on the table before dismissing the man.
“If you’re going to insist on going over to Blackfriars before dinner, at least eat something first,” Murdo said, putting a buttered crumpet and a slice of seed cake on a delicate china plate and handing it to David.
David grinned as he accepted the plate, amused by the oddly domestic gesture.
“And you can stop laughing,” Murdo added through gritted teeth.
To reward him for his restraint, David ate two more crumpets and a second slice of cake, silently noting Murdo’s quiet satisfaction with puzzled amusement.
When he was done, he leaned back in his chair and yawned so widely he felt his jaw might crack. When he straightened again, Murdo was smiling at him, an odd expression in his dark eyes.
“You’re tired,” Murdo observed.
“I doubt I slept more than four hours last night,” David admitted. “But I’ll catch up tonight.”
Murdo watched him for a moment. “I know you’re keen to get going, but you’d benefit from a short nap first. Why don’t you go up to your bedchamber? I won’t join you, and I’ll make sure you’re woken in an hour.”
David opened his mouth to protest, only to yawn hugely again. “That might be an idea,” he admitted, and Murdo reached for the bellpull.