Page 15 of Mr Winterbourne's Christmas
Gwen laughed. “Oh, I’m sure he’ll be thoroughly enjoying it. He was always happiest outdoors here, at Winterbourne, weren’t you, Lysander? Always trailing after Mr. Holmes, wanting to know how things were done.”
Lysander flushed slightly, but he laughed too. “Don’t give awayallmy secrets, Gwen.”
They chatted for a little while longer, but already teatime was over. Lady Winterbourne rose from her chaise longue and informed the remaining guests that dinner would be at half-past seven. Everyone began dispersing, going back to their chambers to rest before getting ready for the evening’s entertainment.
Adam wanted to speak to Lysander, to find some brief few minutes to be alone together, but Gwen had claimed his attention now, drawing him away from the rest of their group to sit with her on a small sofa as the other guests drifted out of the drawing room in twos and threes.
What could Adam do but drift away with them?
Resigned, he followed the Cavendishes up the stairs towards the east wing, feeling thoroughly dissatisfied. He had no idea where Lysander’s rooms were—well, he knew they were in the west wing, but beyond that, nothing—and he certainly had no reason to go up there. If anyone saw him wandering around there, they’d wonder what he was up to.
Still, at least Lysander knew where he was. He was in the “blue room”—which had turned out to be, in actuality, a green room.
A recently and sumptuously redecorated green room.
Adam sighed.
He really was going to have to have a talk with the earl before he left.
Chapter 6 - Lysander
Lysander had a long, comfortable coze with his sister. So long and comfortable that, by the time he got back to his rooms, he barely had enough time for a quick wash and shave before dressing for dinner.
It was just a few minutes shy of half past seven when he hurried downstairs. He’d hoped to see Adam before dinner but now he had no time even for a brief visit to Adam’s bedchamber. His mother expected the whole family to be in place and ready to welcome the guests.
He’d have to think of some other way of getting Adam alone. Preferably one that wouldn’t involve him being seen by the other guests hanging around in the east wing.
When he entered the drawing room he found his mother already reclined on her chaise longue, a glass of ratafia in hand. Simon and Althea sat together on a love seat beside her, the three of them chatting easily.
Simon looked up at his entrance. “Lysander!” He rose and stepped forward to greet him with a handshake, a politician’s smile on his face, warm and insincere at once. He was quite a handsome fellow, though entirely overshadowed by his brother, in Lysander’s opinion.
“It’s good to see you, Simon.”
“And you. Glad to see that brother of mine hasn’t worked you entirely into the ground.” Simon chuckled. “He can be quite the tyrant.”
“No, no, he’s very fair,” Lysander protested. Then, in an effort to redirect the conversation away from Adam, added, “And I’ve learned such a lot this year, working at the estate. It’s been wonderful.”