Julia Justiss - Rogue's Lady

“We’ll talk more about it later,” Allegra replied as they arrived at the parlor. Knocking once, she pushed the door open and escorted him in.

“Aunt Sapphira, ladies,” she said as he bowed. “May I present Captain Lord Lynton.”

The babble of conversation faded into shocked silence. Lady Ingram and Mrs. Barton-Smythe hurriedly stood and dropped curtseys, while Sapphira froze, staring at Rob’s unsmiling face. Then she rose as well, one hand at her throat—and fainted.

As an opening tactic, Allegra thought as she watched Rob rush to catch his stepmother before she crumpled to the floor, Sapphira’s swoon was masterful. In one action, she both emphasized her role as his father’s fragile, grief-ravaged widow and bought herself time to assess her stepson’s reaction.

Her sardonic amusement deepening, Allegra observed how, while fluttering and moaning as he lifted her onto the couch, Sapphira managed to rub her impressive bosom against Rob’s coat, insuring he could not fail to notice her feminine charms, either.

Though Rob caught Sapphira and set her gently back onto the couch, his expression remained guarded—as if he mistrusted her performance as much as Allegra did. Nor did he display any of the panic or agitation with which men often reacted to feminine tears and trauma. Some of the tension in Allegra’s gut eased.

Coolly Rob turned to Sapphira’s callers. “Begging your pardon, ladies, I must ask you to excuse us. I’m sure my stepmother will send you a note when she is feeling more the thing.” He swept them a bow, leaving them with no choice but to murmur expressions of solicitude and take their leave.

After directing the footman who showed them out to summon Lady Lynton’s maid, he went to the sideboard and poured a glass of wine. When Sapphira opened her eyes and gazed dazedly around her, he presented it.

“Please sip this, ma’am, while we wait for your maid to assist you. I regret the distress my sudden entrance evidently caused and beg leave to wait upon you later when you’ve recovered.”

Taking the glass from Rob—and making sure her fingers brushed his, Allegra noted—Sapphira took a tiny sip and gazed up at him. “Lord Lynton—our own dear Rob! Pray excuse my weakness, but when I saw you standing there, looking so much like my poor Robert, I was…quite overcome.”

Rob removed his fingers. “Indeed. I expect you will grow accustomed to the likeness, since I intend to sell out and remain in England.”

“Oh, Rob, that’s great news!” Allegra said, speaking for the first time since the little drama unfolded.

Ignoring her, Sapphira gave him a weak smile. “Then I will have you to advise me? What a relief! Managing a household is such a burden for a woman alone, especially as I am still so much cast down…” She allowed one crystalline tear to bead on her long lashes.

At that moment, Hill, Sapphira’s dresser, appeared along with Lizzie. Allegra noted that after Hill assured Rob she and Lizzie could manage taking her ladyship up to her chamber, he made no further attempt to assist her. He simply watched as the women supported Sapphira out of the room, a thoughtful expression on his face.

When the trio had gone, he turned back to Allegra. “I notice you didn’t offer your help.”

“I expect Aunt Sapphira would sooner accept the hand of an urchin off the street than take mine,” she replied.

“You don’t get on?”

After briefly considering a more detailed response, Allegra said only “No.”

Rob studied her, his gaze progressing from her simply arranged hair to her gloveless hands to her worn gown. His eyes returning to her face, he said, “I have an appointment with the solicitors soon, but when I return, I should like to talk further.”

“I’d like that, too. You…” She paused, her eyes filling with tears. “You must wish to know about Uncle Robert’s last days. He often spoke of you, and I promised to convey his blessings.”

“I didn’t know how ill he was until…” His own eyes sheening with moisture, Rob broke off and swallowed hard. “In his last letter, he said only that he’d been ailing with some trifling thing that would soon pass. When I heard nothing further, I should have realized that something was amiss—but there was always one more duty to perform, and the weeks slipped by.”

Shocked, Allegra looked up at him. “You didn’t know how desperately ill he was?”

“If I had, I would have come home at once! But after that one letter, Papa didn’t write again. And his fine new wife sent me…nothing. I didn’t even know you were here. I’m glad he had some family with him at…at the end.”

“Oh, Rob,” she whispered, tears starting again as his face contorted. While he looked away, fighting for control, she took his hand. He gripped hers hard for a moment before turning back to her.

“Thank you for being here, Allegra. I want to know everything, but later, when I have more time. Now I must go up and change for the appointment. Walk up with me, won’t you?”

Letting go of her hand, he motioned her to precede him. In silence they entered the hall and walked up the stairs. Distracted by a renewal of her grief, it wasn’t until Rob stopped at the door to the blue bedchamber that she remembered.

Flushing, she motioned toward his room farther down the hall. “I’ll leave you to finish your preparations. Please do send for me when you get back, and good luck at the solicitors.” After squeezing his hand, she made to walk past him back toward the service stairs.

He caught her shoulder. “Come now, Bessie can manage without you for a few hours. Why don’t you rest while I’m gone?” With a smile, he opened the door to the blue bedchamber and gave her a teasing push.

Caught off-guard by that action, she stumbled. By the time she’d righted herself, her flush deepening as she tried to think of something to say, his sharp gaze had scanned the obviously unoccupied chamber.

“You’re not staying here?”

She summoned a smile. “I have…other accommodations now.”

His lips tightened into a thin line. “I see. Yes, we shall certainly talk later.”

“Of course. I hope your meeting goes well.” Turning again, she walked away, acutely aware that instead of continuing on to his room, he remained in the hallway. She felt the force of his gaze upon her until she disappeared behind the door to the service stairs.

THE IMPERATIVE of revisiting for Rob the last few weeks of his father’s life brought Allegra’s muted grief back to sharp, aching focus. Not feeling up to a battle of wills with Sapphira, she climbed the stairs and slipped inside her little attic room.

A few hours later, after reviewing her time with her late uncle and choosing the details she would recount to Rob, she reread the note she’d just received from Mr. Waters at the employment agency, summarizing their interview earlier in the week.

Her qualifications looked excellent, he wrote, and given the gentility of her carriage, voice and demeanor, he felt certain he would have no trouble obtaining a post for her as soon as he received her letters of reference.

Sighing, Allegra cudgeled her brain trying to determine whom she might approach to obtain such letters. Giving up the effort for the moment, as she had often these last few months when she struggled with some problem, from her reticule she drew out her most prized possession—her father’s last letter, written when he knew he was dying.

The vellum was smooth and worn from use. Just holding it gave her comfort, nor had she any need to unfold it to recall the words written within.

“My precious daughter,” Papa had begun in a struggling hand, “I now accept that this feeble frame has refused my will’s demand to recover. But before I go, I must tell you that while music was my life, you and your mother have been my heart, my soul, my spirit and my joy. Though I rejoice that soon, she and I will be together for all eternity, my heart breaks at leaving you alone. You must not be afraid, carita. Always remember you possess your mother’s grace and the Antinori fierceness.”