Page 49 of Secrets of the Marriage Bed

Head held high, she descended the stairs to the drawing room.

One of the footmen opened the door.

Two men were waiting. Alistair and one with his back to her. He turned.

Ah, Mr Lewis, back from his mysterious errand. She pasted a cool smile on her lips to encompass both men.

‘Your Grace.’ Alistair came forward to welcome her with the air of a perfect gentlemen. Clearly they were going to pretend all was well. ‘Look who has returned to us.’

She held out her hand. ‘Mr Lewis. How are you? Quite recovered from your journey, I hope.’

‘Indeed, Your Grace.’

‘Lewis is only with us tonight. He leaves tomorrow.’

She arched a brow. ‘You have been and will be missed, Mr Lewis.’

The man looked surprised and pleased, though surely he knew how indispensable he was to the Duke.

‘Dinner is served,’ Grindle announced.

Alistair escorted her to the table in the adjoining room. She sat on his right while Lewis sat to his left. Despite his modest attire and retiring manner, Lewis was a handsome young man with the sort of face that would set the hearts of many a maiden fluttering.

Not hers, though. There was not even a flicker of interest in her chest. Beside Alistair’s fallen-angel golden looks, he faded into the background. It would have been better if she was not so attracted to her husband. It might have been easier to cope with his obvious distrust.

The footmen served them a consommé. Hopefully that would sit well with her badly behaving digestion.

Silence descended. A hostess needed to make her guests comfortable as well as make sure they were included in a conversation no matter how unsettled she felt within herself. ‘I hope your journey to London was successful, Mr Lewis?’

A strange glance passed between the two men, a frowned warning from Alistair to say nothing. Her heart stumbled. Did Lewis’s return to London have something to do with her?

‘It was a most uneventful journey, Your Grace,’ Lewis said.

‘It was fortunate the weather has been fine these past few days.’ Heat rushed through her as she recalled one activity the lovely warm weather had allowed. She risked a glance at Alistair, but his expression remained coolly polite. And his voice silent.

She struggled on. ‘And you return to town tomorrow?’

Lewis’s expression changed. ‘I go west. My father is ill.’

Why hadn’t Alistair mentioned this instead of letting her blunder about? But then she hadn’t yet mentioned his stepmother’s visit, either. ‘I am so sorry to hear it. You will give your family our hopes for a speedy recovery?’

If anything the young man’s face grew darker. ‘Thank you, Your Grace. The prognosis is not good, but we can hope for the best.’ His heavy tone made it clear he did not expect a favourable outcome.

‘I am sorry.’

‘I heard from Beauworth this afternoon,’ Alistair said. ‘We are invited to tea the day after tomorrow. If you are well enough, that is.’

She gritted her teeth at his chilly tone.

‘We can decline, if you wish,’ she said.

‘I have business with the Marquess. Your presence is not required, but Beauworth did say his Marchioness would be glad to make your acquaintance.’

‘May I suggest we ride over?’

His mouth tightened. ‘Are you sure your health will allow?’

‘I will do better on Bella than in the carriage.’