Until You by Judith McNaught Page B

note from your lovely mother. She said she's planning to come up for the Season with your brother and sister-in-law in a sennight. I'm looking forward to seeing all of them."
    "So am I," Stephen said absently. Whitticomb was on his way out when it occurred to Stephen that in addition to everything else, he was going to have to involve his family in the deception he was about to put into full force. And even that wouldn't suffice, he realized as he shoved papers into his desk drawer. In a week, when his family arrived in London for the Season, so would the rest of the ton, and invitations to balls and all the other entertainments would begin arriving at his house by the hundreds, along with a daily stream of callers.
    He put the key into the drawer's lock and turned it, then he leaned back in his chair, frowning as he considered his alternatives: If he turned down all the invitations, which he was certainly willing to do, that wouldn't solve the problem. His friends and acquaintances would begin calling until they saw him and had an opportunity to try to discover why he had come to London for the Season only to behave like a recluse.
    Frowning, Stephen realized his only choice was to spirit Miss Lancaster out of the city and take her to one of his estates—the remotest of his estates. That meant he'd have to make his excuses to his sister-in-law and his mother, at whose pleading insistence he'd come to London for the Season in the first place. They'd both argued very prettily and very persuasively that they hadn't seen enough of him in the last two years and that they enjoyed his company immensely, both of which Stephen knew they truly meant. They had not mentioned their third reason, which Stephen knew was to get him married off, preferably to Monica Fitzwaring, which was a campaign they'd undertaken with amusing—and increasing—perseverance of late. Once his mother and Whitney understood his reason for leaving London, they would immediately forgive him for foiling their plans, but they were going to be disappointed.
14
    « ^ »
    N ow that he fully understood the importance of Whitticomb's reasons for wanting Stephen to play the part of her devoted fiancé, Stephen was determined to set matters to rights at once. He paused outside her door, braced himself for the inevitable bout of tears and recriminations that were bound to pour forth from her the moment she saw him, then he knocked and asked to see her.
    Sheridan started at the sound of his voice, but when the maid hurried forward to admit him, she returned her gaze to information she was copying out of the London newspaper, and said very firmly, "Please tell his lordship that I am indisposed."
    When the maid relayed the information that Miss Lancaster was indisposed, Stephen frowned worriedly, wondering just
how
sick she had made herself because of his neglect. "Tell her that I came to see her and that I'll return in an hour."
    Sheridan refused to feel even a trace of pleasure or relief that he intended to return. She knew better now than to depend on him for anything. Dr. Whitticomb had been so distressed over the state he'd found her in that morning, that his alarm had communicated itself to her, shaking her out of her dazed misery. If she was going to fully recover, he'd warned her, it was absolutely imperative that she take care of herself physically and that she keep her mind active.
    He'd rushed through a disjointed—and, Sherry suspected, dishonest—explanation about her fiancé's neglect that included statements such as "absorbed by pressing business matters," and "obligations of his rank," and "problems with the stewardship on one of his estates." He'd even implied that the earl hadn't been feeling quite himself lately. Unfortunately for the kindly physician, the more he tried to explain away Lord Westmoreland's inexcusable disinterest in his fiancée, the more obvious it became to Sheridan that her presence, and her illness, were apparently less important to