by Gayle Callen
Chapter 4
When Louisa awoke in the morning, the same frustrating thoughts were running through her mind, and they all concerned Lord Wade. She’d had a hard time falling asleep, berating herself over their encounter. He made her nervous and awkward, all the things she usually never was.
She couldn’t be surprised at his bitterness, nor that he hid it from his family. He didn’t bother to conceal it in front of her, and she didn’t know if that was an encouraging sign or not. It could mean he was beginning to deal with his emotions—or simply that he didn’t care what she thought of him.
For a woman who’d decided she could help people, she’d done little of that last night.
And he’d forbidden her from doing more! Miss Wade’s crisis of confidence would not disappear on its own. But at least Lord Wade had helped her to understand his sister’s plight, and that was something she could focus on.
After Miss Wade’s initial clumsiness in front of the queen, everything had spiraled downward. Louisa had to find a way to help her see that the past was over, and she could begin anew.
Louisa knew she was disobeying the viscount; she would have to deal with his anger eventually. She almost…looked forward to it.
After breakfast with the ladies, Louisa had her first outing with Lady Wade, accompanying her to the home of her friend, Lady Perry.
When they arrived, Lady Perry was waiting for them on a chaise lounge in the drawing room, a blanket across her legs, but with a welcoming smile for her friend.
When she gave Louisa a curious look, Lady Wade explained with a laugh. “This is Miss Shelby, my new companion. You should hire one, Margot. She would be such a help.”
Louisa was flattered by the recommendation, but she knew she hadn’t yet helped Lady Wade at all. Lady Perry waved her to a chair a little away from them, and Louisa took her place, recognizing that she would not be much a part of this conversation.
But instead of being bored, she listened intently when the topic immediately turned to Lord Wade.
“How is your grandson?” Lady Perry asked in a hushed voice, as if it would cause a scandal to be overheard. “I am so sorry I wasn’t here to be of comfort to you when the tragedy happened.”
“He is very well, thank you,” said Lady Wade a shade too brightly. “The family was all together, and able to comfort each other. Simon is as busy as ever.”
“Indeed? ’Tis a shame a man with such handsome features and good bloodlines is removed from the marriage mart.”
“Margot, that is not true,” Lady Wade said.
Louisa had a difficult time not looking at her employer in shock. Lady Wade thought Simon should attempt to marry?
“He has only lost his sight,” Lady Wade continued. “He will make a lucky young lady a fine husband.”
“Is the poor man actually looking?”
Lady Wade hesitated. “The tragedy is so recent, and he is still recovering.”
“My daughter and granddaughter visited him and his siblings before he left London. She claims the afternoon a disaster.”
Louisa could see the rigidity in Lady Wade’s posture.
“She tried talking to him, of course,” Lady Perry went on quickly. “She told me that she even raised her voice, so that he could understand her better.”
Louisa wanted to groan aloud at such stupidity.
Lady Wade clenched her jaw. “He’s only blind, not hard of hearing,” she said mildly, showing great restraint.
But Lady Perry seemed not to have understood. She heaved a great sigh. “He was once so high in her considerations for a husband, but now…”
The visit didn’t last much longer. Louisa found herself seated in the carriage beside a very distracted, upset Lady Wade.
For several minutes, the older woman tapped her fingers, looked blankly out the window, and gave several sighs. Louisa held her silence, having learned that a companion did not regularly initiate discussions—especially with a new employer. Some women didn’t like the familiarity of that.
But Lady Wade finally gave her a determined look. “Tell me, Miss Shelby, were you as bothered by that conversation as I was?”
Caught by surprise, and uncertain about how frankly Lady Wade wanted her to speak, Louisa only said, “I don’t know Lady Perry.”
“I thought I did.”
Louisa could only imagine what it was like to see your grandson so injured, his life changed so drastically.
“Lady Wade, some people don’t know how to react to a tragedy, especially when the person is changed in some fundamental way.”
“I know I can’t let myself be so easily offended. But I want to defend my grandson all the time,” she added softly.
“That is only natural. But it seems to me, only knowing Lord Wade casually, he would not want that.”
Lady Wade studied her thoughtfully, but made no answer.
Louisa shifted uncomfortably, reminded of the dark conservatory, Lord Wade so near her, the attraction to him that had never gone away. As if any of that made her an expert on the man!
After luncheon, Lady Wade went to her morning room to work on her household accounts, leaving Louisa with the afternoon free. And she knew just whom she wanted to spend it with. She found Miss Wade in the drawing room, frowning at a blank canvas, a dry paintbrush in her hand.
“Am I disturbing you, Miss Wade?”
Miss Wade looked up with a smile, full of as much charm as her brother’s. “Of course not, Miss Shelby.”
“I have not had a chance to tour the park yet. I was wondering if you would walk with me? I’ll be honest, I have an ulterior motive.”
Miss Wade seemed relieved to put her paintbrush aside. “I confess that I’m curious. What deeper motive could there be in a casual walk?”
“I’m trying to find out if you have an archery field. I’ve lived in London my whole life, but whenever I was in the country, I practiced with a bow and arrow.” She leaned toward Miss Wade and lowered her voice. “I’m quite good, and I’d hate to lose my skills.”
“Then you’ll be happy to know we do have targets and equipment, although we’ll have to have someone set them up for us.” Miss Wade looked toward the door, as if to be sure no one was listening. “To be honest, after a near-mishap a few years ago, I thought I should give up learning the sport.”
“Nonsense.” Louisa grinned and slipped her arm through Miss Wade’s. “I’ll teach you.”
And Louisa would be teaching her the first steps to a new confidence, too.
After the targets had been set up in a field between the garden and the stables, Louisa retaught Miss Wade the correct technique for holding the bow. Miss Wade had just taken a few practice shots—all of which had fallen short of the target—when Louisa happened to see Lord Wade and his valet walking through the garden toward the manor. She almost told Miss Wade to freeze, so that Manvil wouldn’t see them.
But Manvil did, and to Louisa’s dismay, he led his master toward them.
“Good afternoon, Lord Wade!” Louisa called brightly.
Miss Wade gasped, and her arrow went high into the trees. She faced her brother, guiltily hiding the bow behind her back.
“Ladies, I understand that you’re attempting the dangerous sport of archery,” Lord Wade said.
Louisa thought he looked suspicious.
“Georgie, did you not explain to Miss Shelby what happened the last time you tried this?”
Miss Wade blushed. “I almost put an arrow through Leo’s arm.”
“I’m sure that was many years ago,” Louisa said smoothly. “And why ever was your brother between you and the target?”
Lord Wade cocked his head toward his sister, letting her explain.
Miss Wade sighed. “He wasn’t. Leo distracted me with a frog, and I was startled. The arrow just…slipped. But then he chased me into the woods, and Simon had to rescue me.” She smiled at the memory.
Louisa thought that Lord Wade was still trying to rescue his sister, even though s
he was an adult. Someone else with his disability might have let others take over his responsibilities. She was glad he still had the role of protective older brother in his family.
But there was no proof that he had to rescue his sister from Louisa, so she remained quietly confident, even as Lord Wade stared in her direction, wearing a challenging smile.
Miss Wade looked between them in puzzlement. “I think I’ll search for my stray arrow.”
Soon they were alone but for Manvil, who stared off into the distance as if pretending he wasn’t there.
“Miss Shelby, I thought I specifically asked you not to work with my sister,” Lord Wade said firmly. “She is not to be your latest project.”
Calmly, Louisa answered, “My lord, ladies practice archery together to pass the time when the weather is lovely. Would you prefer that I spend each day in my room when your grandmother doesn’t need me?”
He hesitated, and she thought he betrayed a hint of frustration and even uncertainty. She relaxed, confident of victory—for today.
“You know you are not a prisoner.”
She waited.
“My lord,” Manvil interrupted, “might I remind you that you’re due at the miller’s to discuss the repairs on the mill?”
Lord Wade sighed. “Well I can’t go dressed like this. I’ll have to change.”
For the first time she noticed that he wore no cravat, and the top button of his shirt was undone. The bare skin at the hollow of his throat seemed almost indecent, but she couldn’t stop staring at it. And was that perspiration making his shirt stick to his chest beneath his coat? The day wasn’t even hot.
What had he been doing?
He gave Louisa a nod. “Good day, Miss Shelby.”
“Good day, my lord,” she answered, suddenly reluctant to see him leave.
After dinner, Louisa was invited to the drawing room for the evening. Lord Wade joined them after his private meal, and her senses sharpened into heightened awareness. He only had to walk into a room and she noticed him, from the sound of his walk to the faint odor of his cologne. He was cheerful once again.
Manvil escorted him to a chair, then stepped back into the corridor.
“Grandmama, how was your day?” Lord Wade asked easily, stretching out his legs and crossing them.
Louisa noticed how relaxed he always strove to be. His legs did not come near to hitting the coffee table, and she wondered if he knew precisely where everything was situated. Was this also something he had worked to perfect?
While Lady Wade chattered on about Lady Perry, without any of the hurtful details, Louisa tried to pay attention to her own book. She had to stop concentrating on her employer’s grandson. It was embarrassing how many times she found herself watching him when no one was looking, as if he were her personal classic sculpture come to life.
Miss Wade lifted her novel from its place at her side, and after explaining to Louisa the general plot, began to read aloud. Her voice was sweet, and she gave a dramatic turn to each character, occasionally leaving her brother chuckling. It was obvious she played to his reactions, and would do anything for him. It reminded Louisa of the closeness she shared with her sisters.
When the next chapter began, Lady Wade interrupted. “Miss Shelby, will you take a turn?”
“Of course, my lady,” she answered, remembering how often she’d read to Lady Ralston.
But having Lord Wade in the room made everything different, and she felt on display. No wonder he didn’t like being stared at. In the past, she would never have been nervous around men! His disability didn’t bother her—it was the man himself, the man whose request she was disobeying.
Though he could not see her, she had his attention. He solemnly faced her, not watching, but again focusing on her. But he did not laugh when she read an amusing line, and his sister overcompensated by laughing too loudly.
When Louisa had finished a chapter, Lady Wade smiled. “Miss Shelby, with such a lovely reading voice, your singing must surely be pleasant. Will you please do us the honor of performing for us?”
Miss Wade was obviously trying to hide her discomfort, as she kept glancing at her silent brother. Lord Wade said nothing, just continued to wear a pleasantly blank mask that made Louisa want to know what he was thinking. Was he offended that others would dare to sing when he would not?
Simon admitted to himself that he was curious. What was his grandmother up to? She had not asked him to sing, once he’d professed he would not; since then, no music had been played in the house. Though he hadn’t requested a ban, it had been easier that way.
Now he listened to the rustle of Miss Shelby’s skirts as she walked past him, heard her seat herself at the piano and begin to play. She was no great musical prodigy, but she had a light, pleasant touch at the keyboard.
And then she began to sing, and the blow to his gut was unexpected and disturbing. She had a deep, husky singing voice. Couldn’t everyone hear the sultriness, the way she was able to bring out the emotion of the piece? She’d flirted with dozens of men with that voice, and now it wove a spell around Simon himself. He almost wanted to send Georgie from the room so that she wouldn’t try to imitate it. This wasn’t how virginal women were supposed to sing.
He could imagine Miss Shelby touched by candlelight in the night, that red hair shining. Did she sing with her eyes open or closed? Did she wet her lips? Only a year ago, he would have been able to feast on the sight of her as well.
Only a year ago, he wouldn’t have imagined needing to live with his grandmother, or memorizing a house by counting the paces of each room. But everything was different now, and it was a daily struggle to prove to himself that he hadn’t let blindness change him.
Surely it was only a mark of his seclusion that he would read so much into a simple song. When Miss Shelby finished, his grandmother applauded enthusiastically and requested another. She would have been the first to notice something inappropriate.
It was celibate Simon, overreacting to a woman’s presence. He couldn’t protest; he couldn’t leave. He was forced to endure the way the goose-flesh rose along his arms at the pure power of her voice. When the second song was finished, he had to stop the performance.
“Miss Shelby, you have true talent,” he said, forcing a smile. “And I thought your sister, Lady Thurlow, was the musical genius in your family. Is she still composing?”
As he’d hoped, discussion of her sister brought Miss Shelby’s attention to something other than singing. His grandmother seemed particularly quiet after that, and Simon felt her attention on him. He let her think what she wanted.
That night, Louisa couldn’t sleep. Even Mr. Dickens’s novel held no allure. In her mind she kept seeing Lord Wade’s face while she sang. She’d tried to concentrate on reading music, but she’d known the piece by heart, and her gaze had kept wandering to him. Thankfully Lady Wade’s eyes had been closed as she nodded in time to the music, and Miss Wade had been working on her embroidery.
Lord Wade had tried to appear pleasant, but a frown kept peeking through, furrowing his blond brows. She had not thought he considered her performance poor; in fact, he had praised her and begun a discussion about music.
Or had he been distracting her? He hadn’t even brought up the subject of the archery lesson.
He made her feel so flustered, and she wasn’t used to that.
Her thoughts were scattered and restless, and after midnight, she finally donned a dressing gown. She would go down to the kitchen for some warm milk. She could have rung for a maid, but even back home, she’d hated to awaken a hardworking servant in the middle of the night. She couldn’t do it here, when she was barely more than a servant herself.
She held a candle before her as she walked, and the manor stretched away into dark shadows like a cave. She could hear the faint creaks of an old house settling, and she was comforted by the sounds.
She entered the dining room, meaning to pass through on her way to the kitchen. Before she was even halfwa
y down the table, the kitchen door ahead of her opened. She gave a start and froze, but in the gloom, the candlelight reflected off the blond hair of Lord Wade.
He was alone. To her surprise he moved confidently, straight toward the table. She was about to call out a warning, but he turned before his cane even hit the end chair, and came around the table.
She backed against the wall and remained quiet, feeling like she was intruding on the man’s privacy. She knew he didn’t like to be stared at. And she was stunned at how easily he moved about alone.
She held her breath as he passed, then grimaced when he paused.
“Miss Shelby?” he said.
Letting her breath out, she softly answered, “Yes, my lord?”
He turned to face her, and as was her habit, she drank in the beauty of his face, the way his dimples etched deep shadows in his cheeks by candlelight.
He frowned. “You have a distinctive perfume. We seem to keep running into each other in the night. Were you following me?”
“No, my lord. I couldn’t sleep, and I came down for milk. I didn’t mean to disturb you—I would have just let you walk on by—”
“Leaving me ignorant and foolish,” he said, an edge to his voice.
“You’re twisting my words,” she said firmly. “You’re walking down here alone. It is obvious you want no one to know. It wasn’t my place to intrude.”
“I don’t care who knows.”
Though mindful of her place in this household, she couldn’t help her curiosity. “If you don’t care, then why don’t you walk alone by day?”
An ironic smile touched his face. “Because they’ll want to help me, to follow me to make sure I don’t hurt myself. But I don’t need help—and neither does Georgie.”
He protested far too much.
“It’s not just concern about people helping you,” she said, feeling bolder.
He cocked an eyebrow. “Reading my mind now?”
“You don’t want them to see you looking unsure, or looking lost.”
