Lady Katherine began to push him under the bed. “One moment, Mrs. Murray!”
“You have to promise to tell me why your father hates me,” he whispered.
“No.”
Oh, but Henry was desperate. And when he felt desperate, he could be reckless. “Promise me, or I’ll sit—nay, I’lllieon this bed and refuse to move.”
Her eyes grew enormous. “You wouldn’t.”
Henry leaned close to her. “I will recline like a cat,” he murmured.
She seethed audibly. “Fine! I’ll tell you.”
“What was that?” came the companion’s voice.
“I’m coming, Mrs. Murray.” She glared at Henry, who slid under the bed. “I hate you even more than I did!” she whispered.
The door opened, and Henry saw Mrs. Murray’s sensible black shoes step into the chamber. Thank God the maids at Carlisle Hall were still thorough, else he’d be covered in dust. One sneeze, and he’d give all away.
“What did you say, my lady?” Mrs. Murray asked.
“I said, I hate the paper on the walls even more than I did when we first arrived.”
“Oh, I think it quite pretty, even if it is peeling in places.”
“What is the paper like in your chamber, Mrs. Murray? Should we go investigate?”
Henry smiled. She was making a clumsy attempt to rush Mrs. Murray out of her room.
“I thought we might spend the afternoon reading a book, as it’s too wet for a walk. I found a copy ofFordyce’s Sermons. It looks as though it’s never been opened.”
“As stimulating as that sounds,” Lady Katherine said, “my head is pounding. I think it’s the weather.”
“Oh, dear. This is why you should lie down in the afternoon. We ladies must rest, not go traipsing about the countryside.”
“You are correct, as usual, Mrs. Murray. I will lie down now. Will you wake me for dinner?”
“Of course. Let me help you get settled.”
Then followed what felt to Henry like twenty minutes of fussing, where Lady Katherine’s gown and shoes had to be removed, her pillow fluffed, and her brow cooled with a compress. Finally, the lady was able to convince her companion she could want for nothing more, and the woman departed. Henry didn’t move for a count of one hundred and twenty, waiting two minutes to make sure the attentive Mrs. Murray would not return.
Then he slid out from under the bed and rolled to his feet. Lady Katherine was still in bed, the sheets tucked tightly around her. She did make a pretty picture with her drying hair spread out on the pillow and her lovely eyes flashing fire at him. “I hope you are happy.”
Henry tugged at his coat cuffs and brushed lint off his sleeve. “Not particularly. You look comfortable.”
“I’m not. You realize now she will try to force me to nap every single day.”
“There are worse things.”
“Than being treated like a two-year-old? I think not. But then how would you know? Men are never treated like children.”
“I beg you to remind my mother of that fact. Now, shall I sit here on the bed while you tell me about your father? A bedtime story in reverse, shall we say?”
“You will not sit on my bed, and I can’t get up, as I’m wearing my underclothes.”
“I daresay it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”
Her eyes narrowed.
