Widow in White

Chapter Nineteen: This Bad Business

After their encounter at the opera, Richard expected a visit from his sister immediately. The thought of it made him nervous. Like his father, she had the gift of making him feel small and stupid with no more than a single arch look. During the off-season, she was too busy in Brighton or at her husband's home in Kent to bother him much, but always during the London season, when other entertainment grew tired, she would come by for a few hours to bully him about his singleness and demand presents for her ever multiplying children. He dreaded to think what she would have to say about Laura.

However, for over a week, she did not come. Instead, Richard was constantly plagued by cards and calls from acquaintances who just the week earlier would not have seen him had they passed him in the street. Even a few of his female acquaintances deigned to visit, under the secure chaperonage of husbands or brothers. At first, Richard had hoped that Laura might manage to make or renew a friendship with one or more of his female callers, but she remained discreetly out of sight whenever he had a guest. He could not tell if she was trying to be mindful of his reputation or if she was only trying to avoid people.

One afternoon, when he'd just managed to release himself from a tedious visitor, he went up to the drawing room to talk to her about it. She was copying piano sheets as he entered but put them down to look up with an inviting smile.

"Looking for more pleasant company than... was it Lady Hunstall?"

"Yes."

"I thought I recognized her voice."

"You would have seen her face if you'd come down."

"I didn't wish to." She turned back to her music sheets. "I can play if you want."

"No. I've got work to do. In between callers." He leaned on the table and watched the back of her head, caught up in a plain knob that threatened to come loose with just one touch. His fingers twitched. "It would help me if you'd receive people."

She looked up, doubtful. "But surely no woman would dare call. And I would not trust a man to respect me as I am now."

"I know. But..." For a moment, Richard wished Verity was there to chaperone Laura. But that was impossible, and Verity hated London anyway. "At the very least, Major Calloway is a cousin of yours."

Laura raised her lip in an unattractive sneer. "I wish he weren't."

"The Duchess of Roynor is beyond the age where her reputation might be harmed by calling upon you."

"I can't imagine she would be anything close to a friend to me. Vulturous."

"But I don't want you to be isolated because of me. If you lived elsewhere then at least your friends could pretend to believe we were decent — but it's too late for that."

"Much too late."

He saw the troubled look flit across Laura's face and dissolve when he said too late. Yet, for himself, he could not see the appeal of the arrangement to her. He was growing fond of her and suspected she was growing fond of him, but beneath his feelings, his principles and experiences were in quiet revolt against their situation. He could not understand a woman who seemed to delight in the violation of order and decency.

There was a knock at the door and the butler entered, carrying a silver tray.

"A visitor for my lord."

"Thank you."

Richard took up the card and glanced at it. The name sent a quiver of surprise and anxiety down his spine. He dropped it back on the plate and looked at Laura, who was copying the piano sheets again.