kind as to call our carriage, Bagot.” She turned and began to stride upstairs with her head held high.
“Shall I call the doctor for you as well, milord?” Bagot asked uncertainly.
Merton limped to the bottom of the staircase and shouted at Charity, “Get back down here at once.”
Lewis twitched at his brother’s elbow. “I say, John, that is a bit rough on Miss Wainwright.”
Miss Wainwright stopped, while her anger congealed to icy fury. She turned and slowly descended the staircase. “I have not the slightest idea what you are talking about. I have not been out of the house, so I could hardly have sneaked back in. I heard your uncouth bellows and came to see if you required assistance. And I am not accustomed to being ordered about like a servant.”
“Are you saying you were not in my bedroom a moment ago?”
Her jaw fell. “Milord! You go too far! Upon my word!”
Lewis scowled. “I say, John! That is doing it a bit brown.”
Merton began to realize that Miss Wainwright had not had time to find some means back into the house, get upstairs to her room, change her gown, and reappear so swiftly. In other words, he had made a flaming jackass of himself.
“Some woman was in my room,” he said, still angry.
“You may be very sure it was not I!” she said.
Bagot cleared his throat discreetly. “Perhaps if your lordship would tell us exactly what happened? You will be more comfortable in the saloon,” he continued, taking Merton’s elbow to guide him thither. “A glass of wine would not go amiss. I shall give you a coat to put on, until I have time to run upstairs and get your dressing gown.”
In this calming manner he ushered Merton into the saloon, with a clearly discomfitted Lewis and an angry Miss Wainwright following behind. Bagot saw Merton to a sofa, lit a few lamps, and poured wine for the party. He then disappeared, to reappear a moment later carrying a long drab driving coat, which he arranged around Merton’s shoulders, tucking the tail of it around his naked legs.
“Will you be requiring a doctor, your lordship?”
Merton did not wish to belittle the nature of his wounds. Being an invalid seemed his best hope of diminishing Miss Wainwright’s wrath. On the other hand, he had no wish to have a sawbones poking about him.
“I daresay it can wait until morning, Bagot.”
Bagot was just leaving when Mr. Wainwright arrived. He had taken the time to don trousers and shirt and was just pulling his jacket into place when he entered.
“Was it Knagg?” he demanded, looking all around, perhaps hoping for a view of a ghost.
“Someone came into my room,” Merton said. “A female—a light gown with a stain on the bodice.”
“The singing nun! I told you she was there,” Wainwright exclaimed joyously.
“It was no nun. It was a live female. I chased her downstairs. She left by the front door,” Merton informed him.
Wainwright glanced at the door, then back at the staircase. “Would you have any objection to my having a word with her?”
“You are entirely welcome, but I fancy she is halfway to Eastleigh by now.”
“No, no. They never stray so far. I meant, may I go into your room, milord?”
Merton tossed up his hands in resignation. “Why not? It is clear I am to get no sleep this night.”
Wainwright darted off, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.
Lewis said, “You owe Miss Wainwright an apology, John.”
Merton turned as pink as a rose and turned to Charity. “My head received a vicious bump. It was such an extraordinary thing, to awaken and see a strange woman approaching my bed.”
Charity was not appeased by this weak excuse. “I shall be happy to leave if I am not wanted here.”
“I want you,” Merton said angrily. The words hung pregnantly on the air as they exchanged a startled, almost embarrassed, look, then Charity looked swiftly away, her heart racing.
Lewis said, “That ain’t an apology, John.”
“I am aware of that,” Merton snapped.
“Shall I call the doctor for you as well, milord?” Bagot asked uncertainly.
Merton limped to the bottom of the staircase and shouted at Charity, “Get back down here at once.”
Lewis twitched at his brother’s elbow. “I say, John, that is a bit rough on Miss Wainwright.”
Miss Wainwright stopped, while her anger congealed to icy fury. She turned and slowly descended the staircase. “I have not the slightest idea what you are talking about. I have not been out of the house, so I could hardly have sneaked back in. I heard your uncouth bellows and came to see if you required assistance. And I am not accustomed to being ordered about like a servant.”
“Are you saying you were not in my bedroom a moment ago?”
Her jaw fell. “Milord! You go too far! Upon my word!”
Lewis scowled. “I say, John! That is doing it a bit brown.”
Merton began to realize that Miss Wainwright had not had time to find some means back into the house, get upstairs to her room, change her gown, and reappear so swiftly. In other words, he had made a flaming jackass of himself.
“Some woman was in my room,” he said, still angry.
“You may be very sure it was not I!” she said.
Bagot cleared his throat discreetly. “Perhaps if your lordship would tell us exactly what happened? You will be more comfortable in the saloon,” he continued, taking Merton’s elbow to guide him thither. “A glass of wine would not go amiss. I shall give you a coat to put on, until I have time to run upstairs and get your dressing gown.”
In this calming manner he ushered Merton into the saloon, with a clearly discomfitted Lewis and an angry Miss Wainwright following behind. Bagot saw Merton to a sofa, lit a few lamps, and poured wine for the party. He then disappeared, to reappear a moment later carrying a long drab driving coat, which he arranged around Merton’s shoulders, tucking the tail of it around his naked legs.
“Will you be requiring a doctor, your lordship?”
Merton did not wish to belittle the nature of his wounds. Being an invalid seemed his best hope of diminishing Miss Wainwright’s wrath. On the other hand, he had no wish to have a sawbones poking about him.
“I daresay it can wait until morning, Bagot.”
Bagot was just leaving when Mr. Wainwright arrived. He had taken the time to don trousers and shirt and was just pulling his jacket into place when he entered.
“Was it Knagg?” he demanded, looking all around, perhaps hoping for a view of a ghost.
“Someone came into my room,” Merton said. “A female—a light gown with a stain on the bodice.”
“The singing nun! I told you she was there,” Wainwright exclaimed joyously.
“It was no nun. It was a live female. I chased her downstairs. She left by the front door,” Merton informed him.
Wainwright glanced at the door, then back at the staircase. “Would you have any objection to my having a word with her?”
“You are entirely welcome, but I fancy she is halfway to Eastleigh by now.”
“No, no. They never stray so far. I meant, may I go into your room, milord?”
Merton tossed up his hands in resignation. “Why not? It is clear I am to get no sleep this night.”
Wainwright darted off, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.
Lewis said, “You owe Miss Wainwright an apology, John.”
Merton turned as pink as a rose and turned to Charity. “My head received a vicious bump. It was such an extraordinary thing, to awaken and see a strange woman approaching my bed.”
Charity was not appeased by this weak excuse. “I shall be happy to leave if I am not wanted here.”
“I want you,” Merton said angrily. The words hung pregnantly on the air as they exchanged a startled, almost embarrassed, look, then Charity looked swiftly away, her heart racing.
Lewis said, “That ain’t an apology, John.”
“I am aware of that,” Merton snapped.
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