“You had to leave,” Astrid said, “though I do not entirely fathom why. And you are good for me. Do not argue with a lady, Andrew, particularly not at table.”
He fell silent, knowing his next gauntlet of woes had just begun. Astrid was unwilling to face it, but a man who had treated her as Andrew had was not an honorable man. He’d known it at the time, had known it for years before, but she ignored this aspect of him.
She was pregnant, grieving, and exhausted, though she’d probably not even realized that last burden. Even as she leaned against him on the hard bench, she was dozing off. And it was sweet to hold her, sweet to be able to offer her the simple kindnesses of friendship.
Haring off to the four corners of the globe hadn’t solved what was wrong with Andrew. Being a friend to Astrid for the next few months might be closer to the penance he needed to serve, but he wasn’t looking forward to it.
No, he most assuredly was not looking forward to it one bit.
He let her sleep for an hour, until his behind was numb on the bench. She roused then, smiled at him brilliantly, thanked him, and stepped into the coach that would take her back to her solitary residence.
Three
Douglas Allen apparently enjoyed the entire Allen family complement of tenacity, for Astrid had not been home fifteen minutes when he reappeared at her parlor door.
“Sister.” The new Viscount Amery bowed deeply. “How fare you?”
Herbert’s younger brother—younger by eleven months—was a better-looking copy of the original. Whereas Herbert had been of medium height and his physiognomy merely pleasant, Douglas Allen was above average in height, and his more sharply cast features shaded closer to handsome, though it was a cold variety of handsome. His blue eyes held a depth Herbert’s had lacked, and his wheat-blond hair—unlike Herbert’s—showed no signs of thinning. Astrid had wanted to like Douglas—Herbert had liked him, for the most part—but Douglas took a while to warm up to.
“Douglas.” Astrid offered him a curtsy. “Good of you to come. May I offer you some tea?” Interesting, how normal she could sound, how normally she could act, when her insides were still in riot as a result of time spent with Andrew.
“Tea would be appreciated, my lady, though I can’t stay long. I merely thought to stop by and see how you are getting on.”
Astrid poked her head into the hallway and summoned a footman to fetch them a fresh pot. Returning to the sitting room, she gestured to the couch. “Shall we sit?”
Douglas obliged her by taking the chair flanking the couch, though he courteously waited for her to be seated first.
He was like that. Courteous, deliberate, reserved, and excruciatingly polite. He would make an altogether more convincing viscount than her husband had. As that thought wandered through her head, she became aware, again, of the clock ticking and the violent impulses the sound engendered.
Though in Andrew’s company she’d not felt the least bit violent.
“I am glad you have stopped by.” She was not glad; she was not unhappy. She was, however, in jeopardy of losing her wits. “I’ve considered your comments regarding my continued tenure in this house, and you should know—”
Douglas held up a staying hand before Astrid could tell him her recently decided plans. “You became part of the Allen family the day you accepted my brother’s suit, and I won’t hear talk of your having to move when Herbert’s death is not but a month past. You must stay here as long as you please, comforted by familiar surroundings.”
More than a month. Thirty-four days ago, Douglas had stood in this very room and informed her her spouse of not quite two years had been killed in a shooting accident. She had thanked her brother-in-law politely for bringing her the news, unable to absorb it, but had been determined not to fall weeping into Douglas’s arms.
As she had into Andrew’s.
“Astrid?” Douglas was looking at her with concern, and Astrid had to focus to pick up the thread of their conversation. Andrew had looked entirely too thin, was the problem.
And entirely too dear.
“I’ve decided to accept my sister’s invitation to join her when she removes to Surrey later this week,” Astrid said, though she’d yet to inform Felicity of this decision. “While the surroundings here are familiar, they are also rendered… uncomfortable by Herbert’s absence. I don’t think I would miss him quite as painfully were I not so constantly faced with…”
With what? With the fact that she was too young to have the dream of a family of her own taken from her?
With wondering if Douglas had told Herbert’s mistress of her protector’s death? Had anybody told the woman?