“I’m still sorry for all of the difficulty I’ve caused you,” Thea said.
“I haven’t had such a good time in years, my Lady Lyon.”
Thea hadn’t even thought that she would gain a title. Matters had advanced so rapidly that the consequences of her marriage, such as a title and a station ofher ownin society, hadn’t even entered her mind yet. She’d grown up a duke’s daughter but had learned how little that meant in the world when one was cut off from one’s family. However, Lady Lyon would be her title alone, and a fine one it was.
All this good fortune was overwhelming.
What she was thinking must have shown on her face, because Mirabel sympathized. “Let’s go downstairs and find you a strong cup of tea.”
“That sounds like exactly what I need.”
In the dining room they came upon Sir James finishing his breakfast. He was dressed for travel.
“Sir James, I’m glad you are still here,” Mirabel said in greeting.
“I regret to say I shall be leaving.” He cast asheepish glance in Thea’s direction. “I pray you don’t think ill of me, Lady Palmer.”
“Miss Pomfrey is a fortunate woman,” Mirabel said.
“Yes, I hope she believes that, although her parents will need a touch more convincing to appreciate my suit for their daughter’s hand. I came here expecting to help Lyon find a wife and instead found love for myself. Funny how it all works, eh? An old bachelor like me finally being brought to heel?” He cast another sheepish glance toward Thea before saying to Mirabel, “I regret I can’t tarry here. Your hospitality and your late husband’s wine cellar have been delightful. However, if I am to please the people whose daughter I hope to marry, I must leave. You know Mrs. Pomfrey is a bit of a Tartar.”
“I understand, Sir James,” Mirabel said.
He started toward the door but stopped in front of Thea. “Please take care of my friend Lyon. His is a troubled soul.”
“I shall endeavor to do so,” she responded, placing her hand in his.
“It won’t be smooth going,” he predicted and then, with a bow, left the room.
Thea frowned, not pleased to have her joy in the day spoiled by Sir James’s dire prediction.
Mirabel took her by the elbow and steered her toward the buffet. “He must be referring to the carryings-on of the Mmes. Pomfreys and Lady Montvales of the world. Pay him no mind. Lyon can handle the gossips, and so can you. Come, let us eat.”
But Thea held back. “Where is Lyon?” she asked.
“He could still be abed,” Mirabel answered, moving toward the sideboard. “Do you care for bacon?”
Thea didn’t answer but walked out into the hall. Osgood was in the front hall, having seen Sir James on his way. She approached him. “Have you seen Lord Lyon?”
“Yes, ma’am. He went riding early this morning.”
“Thank you,” she murmured, turning back to the dining room. It was a beautiful day, and it would not have been out of character for Neal to want to take advantage of the weather and ride.
Still, she had hoped he would be as anxious to see her as she was him.
Thea tried to put any disquieting thoughts from her mind. Mirabel waited by the dining room door, her half-filled plate in her hand. Thea forced a smile and came to join her, but she didn’t have much of an appetite for food. Her stomach was unsettled by doubt.
After breakfast, Thea attempted to focus on a book and some correspondence. Time passed slowly.
In the afternoon, a rider came. It was the servant Neal had sent to arrange for the special license. He had been successful in his mission and had the license signed by the bishop ... but there was no sign of Neal.
Mirabel kept up a running dialogue, mostly with herself, since Thea grew more introspective as the afternoon wore on, but even she was starting to worry.
“He wouldn’t leave you,” Mirabel burst out at one point after a half hour of silence between them. “Lyon is more of a man than that. He’s not a jilt.”
Thea looked up from the book she’d been staring at without comprehending any of the words. “He has before.”
“When?” Mirabel demanded.