Plainly, they could not return to what they had once been. She wasn’t going to let it happen.
“Dorothy, would you like to come for a walk with us today?” Lady Charlotte asked at her side.
Imbued with sudden energy, Dorothy turned to her friend and nodded. They planned their walk together, but still, Dorothy never once acknowledged Stephen’s presence.
This is unbearable.
“Have you two called a truce?” Allan muttered.
“What?” Stephen turned his head toward his friend.
“You and Dorothy. You have not yet argued this morning.”
Stephen chose not to reply. Arguing was normal for them. Silence was a mark of true discord.
“Your Grace?” The butler appeared beside Stephen. “This has arrived for you.” He moved a silver card tray forward, on which a slim letter sat.
“Thank you.” Stephen took it and turned the envelope over, reading the address with interest. It was unmistakably his steward’s handwriting. He tore the letter open and hurried to read it, knowing he had been waiting for a reply to his letter to his steward for over a week now.
Your Grace,
Well, I wish I had fairer news for you. I have done as you asked and madediscreet inquiries into Viscount Chilmond, but I am afraid those inquiries did not end happily.
There are rumors in Soho of a viscount who has merely a shilling in his pocket, for he has lost the rest of his inheritance at the gambling tables. Whispers in Covent Garden’s teahouses also talk of the Dowager Viscountess Chilmond, who is most eager for her son to rectify his mistakes by marrying well and securing a dowry.
When I went to the gentlemen’s club that Viscount Chilmond is known to frequent, I heardhe hadnot paid his bill in months. What is more, when I went to his lawyer and tried to ask more questions, I was frightened off by thugs who hovered by the door. I suspect some dodgy dealings are afoot in Viscount Chilmond’s efforts to recoup his losses.
I fear that any intention Viscount Chilmond has toward your friend’s sister is no honorable one.
I shall write again if I hear more.
Yours,
Mr. Harry Watts.
Stephen felt his stomach churn as he looked across the table. Sitting on Dorothy’s other side and now trying to engage her in conversation, though he was not having much success, was Lord Chilmond. The rather eager way he scrambled for her attention was puppy-dog-like.
“I need to talk to you,” Stephen whispered to Allan as he folded up the letter.
“Now?” Allan said around a mouthful of toast. “Can’t it wait? I’m halfway through—”
“Now.” Stephen took his friend’s arm and pulled him to his feet.
Allan laughed around his mouthful, swallowing hard as he made their apologies to their hosts and followed Stephen into the hallway.
“What’s this all about?” Allan asked.
Stephen didn’t answer. He headed to a small drawing room, far across the hall, so they were a good distance from the breakfast room, and beckoned Allan inside with a mad wave of his hand.
“Well, you look calm, so this must be good news,” Allan muttered with amused wryness.
When they stepped inside, Stephen practically slammed the door in his eagerness to show Allan what he had discovered.
“What is wrong?”
“Read this.” Stephen thrust the letter into Allan’s hands. “Read it.”
Allan read just the first few lines before he looked up at Stephen, his brows furrowing. “You making inquiries about my sister’s suitor? Shouldn’t that be my task?”
