Page 48 of Eight for Losing, One for Loving

Chapter 13

Dear Mr Knight,

Forgive me, but I prefer to discuss the matter in person.

In answer to your question, our mutual friend is Lady Catherine Kilbane.

I thank you for the appointment and shall look forward to our meeting on Wednesday next.

―Excerpt of a letter from The Lady Belinda Madox-Brown Mr Felix Knight (son of Mr Gabriel and Lady Helena Knight).

25th June 1850, The Queen’s Head, Wrestlingworth, the Bedfordshire-Cambridgeshire border.

Leo stared into the pint of ale he’d ordered but had so far remained untouched as he sat in the taproom. He looked up as Reverend Harbottle appeared beside him, hardly daring to hope his talk with Vi had gone well. Yet the reverend was smiling at him, and not with a pitying expression, either.

“You spoke to her?” Leo asked, his heart beating too hard in his chest.

“I did,” the reverend said, eyeing Leo’s glass.

“Oh, would you like one?”

The reverend beamed and nodded. Leo caught the bartender’s attention and ordered another.

“How did it go?” he demanded, striving for patience as Harbottle waited until his pint had been put before him, and then took a large swallow before he replied.

“Ah, just the thing to perk one up after a tiring night,” he said, smacking his lips with approval.

“Sir,” Leo said reproachfully.

Harbottle laughed softly and patted Leo’s arm. “There, there, young man. I believe all will be well. Have faith.”

Leo stared at him, stunned. “What do you mean? You… You think she’ll have me?”

Harbottle’s eyes were twinkling, but he merely shrugged. “That, I cannot say for certain, but I believe your chances have greatly improved.”

“Leo!”

Leo started, almost spilling his pint as the familiar voice rang out across the taproom.

“Good heavens, I’ve been sitting in the parlour next door for close to an hour now. Have you been propping up the bar this entire time?” Lady Trevick demanded, sweeping into the room with a great rustling of emerald green silk and ribbons. The other men in the room gaped, mouths falling open at the impressive sight of the Countess of Trevick entering the male environs of the taproom.

“My lady,” Leo said, surging to his feet. “I beg your pardon, I had no idea you were here.”

“It’s of no matter, though that man of yours, Norton, came back with me. He is outside too, champing at the bit. I wish to see my daughter,” she said pointedly, giving the reverend a look of sudden interest. “Leo, have you something to tell me?” she asked, her eyes lighting up hopefully but unable to say more when they had an audience.

“Not yet,” Leo said with regret, “but it seems the Reverend Harbottle here might have helped things along a little.”

“Reverend Harbottle,” Lady Trevick said, giving him a look of frank appraisal before holding out her hand to him. “If you have done so, I shall be in your debt.”

Harbottle bowing over her hand. “My lady, how wonderful to make your acquaintance, and might I add that your lovely daughter is a credit to you. A delightful girl, and if I have done some good, that is all the reward I require.”

“She is delightful, I agree. Stubborn as a mule, though,” Lady Trevick said with a sigh. “But Leo, where is she? That young woman told me she would be down directly and I’m still waiting.”

Leo frowned, shaking his head. “I’ll go up and see. I can’t think what’s keeping her.”

He hurried up the stairs to their room, knocking briefly before entering.

“Vi, love, your mama is—” he stopped as he realised he was talking to an empty room. Vi and Mau were gone. A cold sensation, akin to being doused with icy water, rushed over him. Had she run away from him? But why take Mau?