Читать книгу Regency Mistletoe & Marriages: A Countess by Christmas / The Earl's Mistletoe Bride - Энни Берроуз, Joanna Maitland - Страница 11

The meal turned out to be every bit as delicious, and the atmosphere quite as poisonous, as it had been the previous night. Only this time when Lady Thrapston got to her feet and the ladies withdrew, Aunt Bella whispered, ‘I’m blowed if I’m going to let my brother make me feel as though we have no right to be here. Especially since I have not seen Lady Norton for such a long time. I am looking forward to catching up with her news. Will you come with me?’

‘Of course,’ Helen replied. She had already decided that nobody was going to make her creep away and hang her head as though she had no right to be here herself. Lifting her chin, she took her aunt’s arm and joined the procession of ladies making their way to the winter drawing room. It was the room, her aunt explained, that guests always used in the evenings when they came for Christmas, since it boasted two fireplaces—one at either end of the room.

Lady Thrapston’s daughters made straight for the pianoforte as soon as they entered the drawing room. They played and sang competently, but the way they commandeered the instrument put Helen’s back up. Acting as if they owned the place! It reminded her very forcibly of the way their mother had swanned in on the day of their arrival, and been so full of her own importance that poor Aunt Bella had been completely overlooked.

‘Be very careful where you choose to sit,’ whispered Lady Norton, who had come in just behind them. ‘If you are too close to Lady Craddock’s camp then Lady Thrapston will take you for her mortal enemy.’

Helen realised that the layout of the room was most unfortunate. People naturally wished to sit as close to one of the fires as they could, but since Lady Craddock had appropriated the sofa nearest the hearth at one end, and Lady Thrapston a matching one at the other, several ladies, apart from her and her aunt, were hanging about in the doorway as though plotting a course between Scylla and Charybdis.

‘Is there no neutral ground?’ Aunt Bella whispered to her more knowledgeable friend.

‘The gaming room. It is just through that door,’ she replied with a laugh. ‘Only I am not permitted in there until Norton comes.’

Aunt Bella’s eyebrow shot up.

‘I will explain later,’ she said, with a meaningful nod in Helen’s direction.

Helen smiled politely, though she took exception to the way the woman was trying to monopolise her aunt and exclude her.

‘Look,’ she said, indicating a quartet of chairs grouped around a table towards the centre of the room. ‘That looks a safe enough place to sit.’

‘We shall have our backs to the piano, though,’ said Lady Norton. ‘Lady Thrapston might take it as an insult to her daughters…’

‘Especially since I intend to sit and gossip with you, rather than listen to their uninspired performance,’ agreed Aunt Bella cheerfully. ‘But, since I do not care what that woman may think of me, I think we may as well risk it.’

The three of them made their way to the table and sat down, laying their reticules on its highly polished surface before anyone else could steal a march on them.

‘You know why they are all here this year, don’t you?’ Lady Norton said, when the music came to a particularly noisy section that ensured nobody could overhear what she was about to say.

‘Augustine is of an age to make her come-out, and I have heard that Lady Thrapston is angling to get her brother to open up Bridgemere House for at least part of the season in her honour.’

‘Do you think he might?’

Lady Norton snorted. ‘He did not do so for Octavia. Why should he make an exception for Augustine? Besides, their father is still alive. And I am sure Bridgemere will point out that he can well afford to launch his girls creditably.’

‘Then why on earth is Lady Thrapston making the attempt?’ Aunt Bella was leaning forward, her eyes shining with curiosity. Helen had not seen her this animated since well before the collapse of the Middleton and Shropshire Bank.

‘Bridgemere House is so much larger than their own London house. And Lady Thrapston, apparently, thinks it is about time Bridgemere spent some time in town again. What better time than to launch his supposedly favourite niece into society?’

‘You mean he has not always been such a reclusive person?’ Helen asked.

But before Lady Norton could elaborate, they all became aware that the General’s wife was approaching their table. With a conciliatory smile, she indicated the one remaining chair and said, ‘I do apologise for my husband’s outburst earlier. I hope you will not hold it against me.’

Before anyone could say anything she sat down and added, ‘It is such a pity we have got off on the wrong foot. Especially since the few days we are all going to spend here gives me such a wonderful opportunity to get to know you better, Helen.’ She turned an anxious smile upon her. ‘The breach between my husband and his sister has kept us apart for too long, don’t you think?’

‘Well, I…’ It was such an about-face that Helen did not know what to think.

Mrs Forrest smiled sadly. ‘It must have been a terrible blow for you to lose both your parents at such an impressionable age. I would have loved to have raised you myself, but as you know the General is not a man one can cross…’

Helen frowned, trying to recall if her impressions of that time might be faulty. She had not thought her aunt had seemed terribly keen on taking her in, and could certainly not remember her attempting even the smallest argument with the General on her behalf. But then, she had already been through several households where neither adult had wanted the expense of her upkeep, and had begun to feel like a leper.

‘Your mother and I were…well, sisters, you know,’ she said airily. Then she glanced over her shoulder, as though checking to make sure the gentlemen were not yet joining them, and said, ‘I may not stay and chat with you now, but perhaps we could take a walk about the grounds tomorrow? While the men are out shooting?’

Helen hardly had to think about her response. Here was a woman who had known her mother. Though she had no complaints about the way Aunt Bella had raised her, she had never met either of Helen’s parents. It would be wonderful to have somebody to talk to who had known them both.

‘I should like that very much,’ she said.

As soon as they had made arrangements about where to meet, and at what time, Mrs Forrest got to her feet and went to join a group of ladies who were seeking a fourth for a hand of whist.

‘She did not invite me, I hope you notice, Helen,’ said her aunt darkly.

Immediately Helen felt contrite for arranging to meet Mrs Forrest without considering how this might affect Aunt Bella.

‘Did you want to go out walking tomorrow?’ said Lady Norton. ‘If you do, then you and I could take a stroll together. Though myself I dislike going out when it is so cold. I would much rather stay within doors and amuse myself with a hand or two of piquet.’

Aunt Bella turned to her with a smile. ‘Then that is what we shall do while Helen renews ties with her mother’s family. If that is really why Mrs Forrest has attempted to detach her from my side.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Helen with a frown.

‘Well, has it never occurred to you that if she really thought so much of her sister’s child she would at the least have written, or sent small gifts for birthdays and Christmas?’

Helen’s heart sank. ‘Perhaps the General would not permit it.’

‘Yes, that might be it. But I would not be a bit surprised to learn that she has some other motive than reconciliation on her mind. Take care, Helen. She may smile and say all the right things here, where there are plenty of eyes on her. But I have a strong suspicion she is up to something.’

And so Helen was on her guard when she went to meet her aunt the next morning. And it was just as well, because they had scarcely left the shelter of the house before Mrs Forrest unsheathed her claws.

‘We wish to know exactly what you are doing here, young woman,’ she began coldly. ‘And to warn you that whatever your intentions may be we intend to see to it that your days of being a drain upon Isabella’s resources come to an end. If my husband had been the head of the family, instead of that ineffectual brother of his, he would never have permitted things to go this far. Indeed, Isabella should never have been permitted to make a home for herself, unprotected, to fall prey to unscrupulous people who only have an eye to her fortune!’

It was so obvious that Mrs Forrest considered Helen to be one of those unscrupulous persons with an eye on Aunt Bella’s fortune that for a brief second she almost blurted out the truth. That there was no longer any fortune for the General to be getting into such a pother about. She found it incredibly sad that this woman had brought her out here simply to squabble over money—non-existent money at that—when they could truly have been spending the season putting aside past misunderstandings and learning to deal better with each other.

Not that she could say as much. For it would feel like a betrayal to talk about Aunt Bella’s financial losses behind her back—especially to this woman.

And Aunt Bella had been upset enough about the way the loss of her fortune had affected Helen as it was.

She had gripped Helen’s arm so hard it had almost been painful. ‘Helen,’ she had said, with tears in her eyes, ‘I cannot believe I have let you down so badly. I thought I had provided for you. Everything I had would have been yours when I died and now it is all gone. You have nothing. Now or in the future.’

‘Aunt, please, do not talk this way,’ she had remonstrated. ‘You have provided for me. You gave me a home. You took me in and raised me as though I was your own child when nobody else wanted me. And do not forget how very poor my parents were. Had they lived, I would never have had any expectations for my future.’

Her aunt had seemed much struck by that point. Then Helen had said, ‘Besides, you gave me such a broad education that I will surely be able to find work eventually.’

‘There is that,’ Aunt Bella had said. ‘It will be some comfort to know that I have at least ensured you may keep your independence. I have not raised you to think you have to rely on some man, have I?’

No, she had not. To begin with she had loved Aunt Bella so much it had never entered her head to form any opinion that ran counter to her own strongly held beliefs. But as she had grown, and observed the fate of other women of her class, she had begun to regard women who relied entirely on their menfolk with a tinge of contempt. They were like the ivy that had to cling parasitically to some sturdy tree for its support, having no strength in themselves.

Helen eyed her real aunt with a heavy heart. If this woman had kept her, what would she be like now? Cowed and insecure? Afraid to lift her head, never mind her voice, should the General or any other man express his disapproval of something she had done?

Thank heaven she had met Bella Forrest, who had always encouraged her to think for herself. To trust in her own instincts and follow her own heart.

She forced her lips into the semblance of a polite smile.

‘I am quite sure you do not include me amongst the ranks of people attempting to part Aunt Bella from her fortune? Because you know that I was merely a child when she first showed an interest in me…’

‘But you are not a child now, are you?’ Mrs Forrest put in swiftly. They came to the end of the gravelled path along which they were walking, and passed through an arch in a closely clipped yew hedge into an enclosed garden. ‘Though you have got your claws into her now, I am warning you that we intend to take steps to protect her. Steps that should have been taken years ago!’

‘This is ridiculous! I—’

But before she could finish her observation she noticed that another party was already strolling across the lawn within the sheltered enclosure. The Countess of Thrapston and her two daughters came to an abrupt halt, and turned round to stare at the sound of raised voices. Helen suspected—although they were all wearing different bonnets and coats—that these were the same females she had observed from the drum room, walking through the formal gardens on her first day here. Oh, how she wished she had observed them more closely. If she had realised this was a favourite walk of theirs she would not have allowed her aunt to strike out in this direction! It was upsetting enough to be having this altercation. It was made ten times worse to have this haughty woman and her proud daughters witness it!

Mrs Forrest recovered first. ‘Oh, Lady Thrapston,’ she gushed, dropping into a deferential curtsey. ‘I am so sorry if we have intruded upon your walk. But really, this girl is such an aggravating creature that she quite made me lose my temper.’ She shot Helen a malicious glance. ‘I dare say you overheard how she has latched onto my husband’s poor sister, and for years has taken shameless advantage of her generous nature?’

‘Poppycock!’ snapped Helen, finally losing her battle to keep a civil tongue in her head.

‘You deny that you have wheedled your way into a defenceless woman’s affections? To the extent that she has made a will in your favour? And that you now stand to inherit a fortune that should by rights return to her real family upon her death?’

So that was what this was all about. General Forrest cared nothing for his sister’s welfare. He was just desperate to claw back some of the money he believed she had.

At least there was one slur upon her character she could refute without betraying her aunt’s confidence, though.

‘I do not expect,’ said Helen through gritted teeth, ‘to receive anything more from Aunt Isabella in future.’

‘No?’ said Mrs Forrest, with a sarcastic little laugh. ‘You do not, surely, expect me to believe that?’

‘I do not care what you believe—though what I have just told you is the truth. I intend to work for my living.’

‘Oh, really!’ scoffed Mrs Forrest. ‘As if any woman would choose to work for her living if she had an alternative!’

Helen was not about to tell this woman she had no alternative. Particularly since the Thrapston ladies were all listening avidly.

Instead, drawing herself up to her full height, she said, ‘On the contrary. I am pleased to tell anyone who may be interested that a few days hence I shall be a completely independent woman. I have already secured a post as governess to the children of a family in Derbyshire.’

The girls looked horrified.

‘I do not scruple to tell you, young lady,’ said Lady Thrapston, shaking her head, ‘that it is not at all the thing to boast about taking employment. No true lady would stoop to such measures. I have heard that Isabella Forrest is something of an eccentric, and if this is an example of the kind of thing she has taught you—’

‘Though, if it is true,’ Mrs Forrest interrupted, ‘my husband will be most relieved. Perhaps he need no longer be at outs with Bella, and then she might—’

Helen was by now beside herself with anger. She clenched her fists. What right had Lady Thrapston to make any sort of observation about her conduct? None whatever! And how dared Mrs Forrest assume Aunt Bella would meekly make a will in her brother’s favour after the way he had treated her?

Her eyes narrowing, she took a pace towards the three Thrapstons.

She had just taken a breath to make a pithy rejoinder when the hedge to the south of where they were standing suddenly erupted. A dog that was very nearly the size of a pony got its shoulders through and then, barking joyously, bounded straight towards them. From the long, matted hair Helen recognised the hound which had been sprawled on the hearthrug in His Lordship’s study the morning before.

Helen had never been so glad to see such a disreputable-looking animal, or so impressed by the effect it had on her erstwhile tormentors. Emitting shrill shrieks, Lady Thrapston and her daughters darted round behind Helen before the dog managed to reach them. Mrs Forrest, even less stalwart in the face of danger, simply took to her heels and fled. Helen could hardly wait to inform Aunt Bella just how athletic her sister-in-law was. How it would make her laugh to hear of that sudden turn of speed!

The hearthrug dog, meanwhile, had reached its target and leapt up, setting its paws on Helen’s chest and licking her face. Only the press of females cowering behind her stopped her from falling flat on her back.

‘Eeurgh!’ Helen could not help exclaiming, screwing her eyes tight shut, wishing that she could somehow stop her nostrils, too. She was not used to dogs, and found the exuberance of his slobbery greeting somewhat too pungent for her liking. Though she did not feel the least bit frightened. She had no doubt it was a doggy sort of friendship the great beast was demonstrating, and felt rather scornful of the two girls who were now squealing with fright, cowering behind her and Lady Thrapston.

‘Esau!’ the Earl’s voice boomed across the lawn. ‘Devil take it, what do you think you are doing?’

The dog looked in the direction of his master’s voice, drool dripping slowly from his lolling tongue.

The Earl forced his way through the hedge just where the dog had broken through. He took the situation in and snapped his fingers. ‘Heel, I say! Heel!’

To Helen, it looked as though the dog sighed and shrugged its shoulders before obediently dropping to the ground and loping across to his master’s side, where he flopped to the ground and rolled on his back, paws waving in the air.

‘I am not going to rub your stomach, you hell hound!’ the Earl snapped.

The dog merely looked up at him adoringly and wriggled encouragingly.

Helen, already struck by the humour of the situation, could barely stifle her giggles. She reached into her pocket for a handkerchief, covering her grin under the pretext of vigorously wiping away the slobber that coated her cheeks.

‘Really, Bridgemere,’ said Lady Thrapston, emerging from behind Helen. ‘Have you no control over that animal?’

‘Better than you have over your own manners,’ he replied coldly. ‘You have a very carrying sort of voice, My Lady, and I beg leave to inform you that you have no business berating Miss Forrest upon her future plans. Plans which, in any case, I regard as admirable!’

‘Excuse me…’ Helen put in, suddenly cross all over again. Though it was quite pleasant to hear the Earl say that he found her admirable, she was not in the least bit pleased that he was saying what she would have said herself, had the dog not put a halt to proceedings.

The Earl made an impatient gesture with his hand.

‘Not now, Miss Forrest!’ he snapped, his eyes fixed upon his sister. ‘I find it remarkably refreshing to hear that there is at least one woman in England who does not have marriage to a wealthy man as her goal after having been launched expensively into society!’

At that point Helen’s temper came to the boil. It was beyond rude for these two aristocrats to stand there arguing about her as though she was not present. Besides, it was perfectly clear they were not arguing about her at all, but about what Lady Thrapston expected Bridgemere to do for her daughters.

Who were both close to tears.

‘Don’t you assume you know anything about me or my goals, My Lord!’ she said. ‘It is only women with a dowry and a family behind them who have the luxury of taking the route of which you speak! And, since I have not a penny to my name, I should have thought it would be obvious even to you that route is not open to me!’

‘You see?’ said the Countess. ‘Even this creature would rather marry than work for a living! You have heard it from her own lips!’

The Earl swung to her, his eyes blazing, as though he felt she had betrayed him.

Not a penny to her name? What nonsense was this? From the preliminary enquiries he had made, it was generally known that she stood to inherit a substantial fortune from Isabella Forrest. Who was already keeping her in some style.

‘N…no, I did not mean that, exactly…’ Helen stammered, her eyes flicking from brother to sister and back again.

‘Come, girls,’ said Lady Thrapston imperiously. ‘We shall return to the house, since His Lordship chooses to exercise that beast where his guests should feel safe to walk!’

Her nose in the air, she swished across the lawns, her two subdued daughters scurrying along behind her.

The dog rolled itself upright and woofed once after them, as though in triumph.

Helen stood frozen to the spot by Lord Bridgemere’s glacial stare. He waited until the other ladies were out of earshot before speaking again, while Helen braced herself for yet another battle royal.

‘I trust you are unharmed?’ he said, completely taking the wind out of her sails. ‘For some reason,’ he drawled, as though there was no accounting for the working of a dog’s mind, ‘Esau regards you as a friend. The moment he heard your voice he made straight for you to make his presence known.’

‘Straight, yes,’ she agreed. ‘Straight through the hedge,’ she amended, a bubble of mirth welling up inside her as she recalled the consternation he had caused. Then with a perfectly straight face she reached up and plucked a yew twig from the front of Lord Bridgemere’s waistcoat. ‘And you came straight after him,’ she observed, tossing the twig to the ground.

‘He frightens some females,’ he countered. ‘He is so large and…’

‘So sadly out of control.’ She shook her head in mock reproof.

His brows drew down into a scowl. ‘No, that is not the case at all. He is very well trained…’

Abruptly she averted her face, as though glancing towards the dog, who was now sniffing away at the foot of the hedge. But not quite quickly enough to hide the laughter brimming.

He caught at her chin and turned her face towards him, studying it in perplexity. Then suddenly comprehension dawned.

‘You…you are teasing me!’

For a moment she felt as though her fate hung in the balance. It was the height of impertinence for one of her station to treat a man of his rank with such lack of respect.

But then he smiled.

Really smiled—as though she had just handed him some immensely rare and unexpected gift.

Her stomach swooped and soared—just as it had done when, as a little girl, she had taken a turn on her garden swing.

She had thought him attractive, in a dangerous sort of way, when she had believed he was merely a footman. Had imagined maidservants queuing up to kiss that mouth when it had been hard and cynical. But the intensity of that smile was downright lethal. As she gazed, transfixed, at those happily curved lips, with his hand still cupping her chin gently, she wished that he would pull her closer, slant that mouth across her own…

With a gasp, she pulled away from him.

His smile faded. He looked down at the hand that had been cupping her chin as though its behaviour confused him.

‘E…Esau?’ she stammered, determined to break the intensity of the mood. ‘You called him that because he is so hairy, I take it?’

‘And he has a somewhat reddish tinge to his coat,’ he agreed mechanically. Then, as though searching for something to say to prolong their odd little conversation, ‘Under the mud which unfortunately he chose to roll in this morning.’ He looked down at her attire ruefully. ‘And which is now liberally smeared all over your coat.’

For the first time Helen took stock of the damage the encounter with his dog had wrought upon her clothing. Helen had wrapped a shawl over her bonnet before setting out. It had slithered to the ground when Esau had jumped up, and the other ladies had trodden it into the ground. Her gloves and cuffs were shiny with the aftermath of Esau’s affectionate greeting, and her shoulders bore the imprints of his enormous muddy paws. And, worst of all, when he had dropped to the ground his claws had torn a rent in her skirt.

‘You must allow me to replace it.’

‘Must?’ Taking exception to his high-handed attitude towards her, she took a step back. ‘I must do no such thing!’

‘Do not be ridiculous,’ he snapped, his own brief foray into good humour coming to an abrupt end. ‘I saw the way my sister used you as a human shield to protect her own clothing from Esau’s unfortunate tendency to jump up on people he likes. And she can easily afford to replace any gowns his paws might ruin. I suspect that you cannot. I have just heard you declare you have not a penny to your name! And I doubt if you have more than two changes of clothing in that meagre amount of luggage my staff carried up to your room.’

Helen stiffened further. ‘Mud brushes off when it dries. And I am quite capable of darning this little tear,’ she said, indicating her skirts. ‘Any competent needlewoman could do it! And, contrary to your opinion, I do have a clean gown into which I may change. I am not a complete pauper.’

‘Nevertheless, you are not the heiress that General Forrest has assumed, are you? What has happened between you and your aunt? Why do you have to go out and work for your living? Will you not tell me?’

‘It is not your affair—at least not my part of it.’

She was not going to confide in him. It shook him. Most people were only too ready to pour out a litany of woes in the hope that they might persuade him to bail them out.

He had already told Lady Thrapston that he admired her, but if he were to say it again now it would be with far more conviction. For he realised that he really did.

‘That damned pride of yours,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Nevertheless, Miss Forrest, you have to admit that it is entirely my fault that your clothing has been ruined. As Lady Thrapston pointed out, I should not have returned to the house by this route when I knew that visiting ladies like to take their exercise in the shelter of the shrubbery. Please,’ he said, stepping forward and grasping her by the elbows, ‘allow me to make amends.’

For once he would like to be able to do a small thing for someone he suspected had suffered some kind of financial reversal. And what was the cost of a coat to him?

Esau, as though sensing the tension between them, bounded over and sat at Helen’s feet, gazing up at her with his head on one side.

‘It would be quite inappropriate for you to do so,’ she pointed out.

It felt as though the sun went behind a cloud when he let go of her arms and stepped back.

‘But thank you for your kind offer,’ she said, in a desperate attempt to undo the offence she could see he had taken at her refusal.

It was no use. His face had closed up.

Which was ironic, considering the last time they had spoken he had complained that people only came to him because they wanted something!

‘No very great harm has been done by your dog. In fact,’ she said, reaching out one hand and tentatively patting the great shaggy head, ‘I am rather grateful to him for putting such an abrupt end to my walk.’

‘You do not like the gardens?’

‘The gardens seem very pleasant, My Lord, from what little I have seen so far.’

‘Perhaps you would enjoy seeing more of them,’ he said, as though he had just been struck by a brilliant idea, ‘if you had a more congenial escort? I confess, though I generally only permit Esau to accompany me on my morning ride, I—’

He pulled himself up short, frowned, and made her a stiff bow. ‘Miss Forrest, since you will not permit me to replace the clothing Esau has ruined, perhaps you will allow me to make amends in another way. Let me show you these gardens tomorrow, early. Before anyone else has risen. Before the sun has burned the frost away.’

‘Oh.’ Helen blinked up at him. ‘I thought you said you preferred to be alone…’

‘To ride alone,’ he corrected her, with some signs of irritation. ‘But I have not asked you to ride with me. Just to walk. Will you?’ He clutched his riding crop between his hands, his whole body tensing as he added, ‘Please?’

For one wild, glorious moment Helen had the feeling that her assent would really mean something to him. She wondered, given all that she had learned about him, how long it had been since he had asked anyone for anything.

Her heart went out to him. How sad to think that he might be so lonely that he was more or less begging her for an hour or so of her time. She suddenly saw that it was a rare thing for him to come across a person with whom he might spend time safe in the knowledge she would not be pestering him for some kind of favour. Lord, he must be one of the loneliest men on earth.

Especially if he had to resort to asking her to go for a walk with him. She was a virtual stranger to him. And whenever they had met they had ended up arguing.

She chewed on her lower lip. Going for a walk with him, unchaperoned, would be a rather shocking thing for her to do. Especially considering the vast difference between their stations. And yet…and yet…

She was quite certain she would never meet a man like him again.

In the dreary years of servitude that lay ahead of her, would it not be a comfort to look back to this time and recall that once, at least, a handsome, eligible man—a man who made her heart flutter—had urged her to cast convention aside and spend time alone with him? Oh, not that anything would come of it. He could not possibly have any romantic feelings towards her. It was just a walk.

Sometimes, she decided, the conventions were ridiculous. As if he would stoop to attempting to seduce her, of all people. A guest under his roof!

She brightened up, knowing that she would be quite safe.

‘If the weather is fine, I think I should like that very much,’ she said.

While Bridgemere had been awaiting her answer he had felt as though he was teetering on the brink of a precipice. And now he wondered if he had tumbled headlong into it. For the sense of relief and gratitude he felt when she said yes was out of all proportion.

He was more than a little irritated with himself for letting her affect him so much.

‘I will wait for you in the mud room at first light, then,’ he said brusquely. ‘Cadwallader will give you the direction.’ He glanced down at her feet. ‘Wear sturdy footwear.’

And then he whistled for his dog and strode away, leaving Helen to trail back to the house in a state that was becoming all too familiar after an encounter with Lord Bridgemere. A turbulent mix of exhilaration, irritation, yearning and trepidation—and now, as if that were not quite enough to contend with, more than a dash of compassion for the man who was expected to bear everyone else’s burdens but had nobody to help him bear his.