Rachael swallowed quickly and began her explanation.
“Two gentlemen are conspiring to bring yet more gossip to shame you,” she began, her heart thudding painfully. “One is to go to a footman who will then come to tell you that Lord Kelling is waiting for you in the parlor, and asks that you go to him at once.”
“Lord Kelling?” Lord Blackmore glanced behind him. “I have Lord Elmsford present here and Lord Richmond also, but Lord Kelling is somewhere in the ballroom. Why would he wish to see me in the parlor?”
“It will not be Lord Kelling waiting for you there,” Rachael explained, her face heating as she looked away from Lord Blackmore. “It will be… a lady.”
There was nothing but silence for a few moments and, as Rachael slowly returned her eyes to his face, she saw the scarlet dots begin to appear in his cheeks. Lord Elmsford and Lord Richmond both turned to look at Lord Blackmore also and seeing what it was that they thought, Rachael hurried to explain.
“It is not a lady that you yourself will have asked to meet,” she said, hastily, “but rather one that these two gentlemen will have sent there to meet you. A Lady Duthell?”
Lord Richmond’s exclamation came at once.
“Lady Duthell? She is a widow known for her… interest in as many connections with as many different gentlemen as she can!” Rachael closed her eyes as fire burned up through her chest and into her face. “Forgive me,” Lord Richmond said, immediately, clearly aware that he had embarrassed her by speaking so openly. “But yes, I can now understand what you mean, Miss Simmons. Someone intends to have Lord Blackmore seen in the company of Lady Duthell–”
“And in a private parlor, no less,” Lord Elmsford added, a frown darkening his forehead. “That is a little concerning, I must say.”
“No doubt someone will then come along and open that door – or be placed in a position where they can see only you and Lady Duthell emerging,” Rachael finished, biting her lip when Lord Blackmore scowled. “I do not know who would do such a thing, or why. I am only glad that I have been able to inform you of it all.”
Lord Blackmore let out a heavy sigh.
“As am I.” His sharp eyes caught hers. “And you say you do not know their names? You did not see their faces?”
Rachael shook her head.
“I did not. Would that I had.”
“Do not feel any guilt whatsoever, I beg of you.” Despite the tension which now ran through them all, Lord Blackmore smiled and, reaching out, caught her hand for a moment, his fingers warm on hers. “You have saved me from a great and terrible trial! I am grateful to you.”
She nodded, letting out a slow breath which stole some of her worry from her.
“I only wish that I could have done more. I–”
Behind her, the door opened, and Lord Blackmore dropped her hand at once, leaving her with a sudden sense of loss.
“Forgive me, my Lords.” The footman bowed, but kept his gaze low. “I believe that one of you is Lord Blackmore?”
Rachael turned, looking with wide eyes up to Lord Blackmore, all the more astonished when he nodded.
“My Lord, I have a message for you from Lord Kelling. He is in urgent need of your help and asks you to make your way to the parlor.”
“The parlor?” Lord Blackmore repeated, as the footman nodded. “Might I ask who gave you this message?”
The footman blinked.
“It was from Lord Kelling, my Lord.”
“Hewas the one who told you to find me here?”
With no pause nor hesitation whatsoever, the footman nodded.
“Yes, Lord Blackmore. He came to me only a few minutes ago, stated who he was and instructed me to pass on this message to you. He also said that it was of the greatest urgency.”
Lord Blackmore scowled.
“I see.” With a nod, he dismissed the footman and then looked back to his friends before turning to Rachael. “It seems as though whoever said such a thing to that footman claimed to be Lord Kelling. The footman would not know if he was speaking the truth or not.”
“That is true,” Rachael agreed, quietly. “The footman is only a servant, and there are a good many gentlemen and ladies here. They must take such things as they are.” Her eyes went to each gentleman in turn and then to Lord Blackmore himself. “What will you do?”
