Lord Valorous(10)

"Have you always shown a reckless disregard for orders, Prudence?"

"That is not my name, and in all honesty, yes, I have. My father often lamented that very fact."

She thought the corners of his mouth lifted slightly, but then perhaps not, as it drew into a line.

"Lord Revel is home, Miss March, but I would guess still in his bed. I have arrived in the hopes of surprising him. I have no wish to now have to explain why you are here also."

"Yes, I can see that would be a problem." Poppy shuffled sideways. "I shall leave at once."

"What are you doing?"

"Leaving."

"On your hands and knees? It's freezing, there is snow and ice on the ground, and you shall be wet and cold in seconds."

"I shall run home. There is no need to worry, my lord. I shall wait for word from you."

Poppy wasn't sure, but thought he sighed.

"Hamley, take Miss March for a drive around the park, and then to the tea shop on Candy Street. Once that is done, return for me, please. I shall meet you there when my interview is concluded, Miss March."

"Oh no-"

"For once in your life, Miss March, shut up and do as you are told." His voice was soft, but there was no doubting the threat behind the words.

"I don't take orders from you."

"Yes, you bloody well do. Now get in my carriage before I put you in there."

Deciding now was not the time to pursue this conversation, as Lord Revel was inside and could look out a window at any time, she scurried to his carriage.

"Thank you, Hamley."

"You're welcome, Miss March."

When the door was closed, Poppy peeked out the window and saw that Lord Dangerous was now at the front door. He turned briefly and looked at her, and then the carriage pulled away.





Jacob managed to school his features into a smile as the door opened. Bloody woman, what the hell was she playing at? He swallowed the snort as he thought about how she had looked, cowering there behind the lavender. Perhaps cowering was not the right word, as he doubted Miss March was the type to cower.

"Good day to you," Jacob said to the butler who opened the door. "My name is Lord Hatherton. I have no appointment, but am charged by my grandmother to visit with Lady Revel and give her this small token." Jacob held out the small parcel he had in his hand.



       
         
       
        

"I am afraid that Lady Revel is not taking visitors at this time, my lord."

The man was nervous, Jacob could see it in his body language. His eyes were shooting from side to side, and his hands opening and closing.

"Then I would like to see Lord Revel, please."

Jacob made a gesture that indicated he was entering the house, and short of stopping him by force, there was little the butler could do but admit him.

"Please direct me to a seat, and then make Lord Revel aware of my presence," he said in his most pompous voice.

"At once, my lord."

Jacob was shown to a room. The fire was not lit, so he walked in circles while he thought and tried to keep warm.

He would send out word for his friends to meet him in their offices after meeting with Lord Revel, and then furnish them about Miss March's concerns.

He could still not believe he had found her behind the lavender bushes.

"If I had not seen your intelligence, I would question your sanity, woman," he muttered.

"I have brought tea, Lord Hatherton, as Lord Revel is at the moment occupied, but will be down as soon as he is able."

Translated, Jacob knew that meant the man was still in his bed. Pouring the tea, he took a biscuit, and then continued to walk. His breath was forming small puffs of white as he moved.

He had given a great deal of thought to Miss March's claims, and come to the conclusion that she was correct. The woman may be a chatterbox, and slightly erratic, but there was no doubt she had been sincerely worried about Lady Revel. For some reason he also believed in her sincerity. Something about her told him she was a person who could be trusted.

When Hamley had told him she had refused to take a ride in his carriage after she left work at 2:00 a.m., he had not been all that surprised. He had known the woman only briefly but knew she was fiercely independent, to the point of foolishness.

What the hell was her story? Why did she not go home if she was without work, and he hazarded to guess, funds also. Jacob did not believe her tale that there were too many Marches in the family home; there had to be another reason.

The sound of the door opening put those thoughts on hold. He would ask more questions of her later, and then he would also find out her name.