Chapter Four
Amanda’s heart shuddered to a stop. Lady Simpson, here? Why? It didn’t make sense, she barely knew the woman. They had talked a few times. But nothing that indicated Lady Simpson had any interest in a banker’s daughter.
She glanced at Lord Warwick. He looked back sternly.
“She can’t know I am here,” he said. “The woman is a born gossip.”
Amanda shook her head at him. He was worried about being discovered. It hadn’t even occurred to him to think what it would mean to her reputation if people found she had spent the last week nursing Lord Warwick in her home.
She would be disdained and cut from any social life. People would think they were lovers. No man would ever respect her enough to marry her.
The thought sent a cold chill down her spine as she told Molly to stay with Lord Warwick and quickly set her hair right.
As Amanda started down the stairs, she saw Lady Simpson fiddling with her reticule as she waited in the entrance hall. Tall, with raven black hair and porcelain white skin. Striking, she looked exactly the kind of woman who would peak Lord Warwick’s interest.
“Miss Waters,” Lady Simpson said as she turned to watch her descend the stairs.
“Lady Simpson,” Amanda said with a quick curtsey and a deep frown. “Welcome. This is a surprise.”
The tall woman gave her a fake smile. The kind of smile Ladies of the ton used with women they believed to be of lower status. The kind of smile that reminded everyone of who was who.
“Yes, well,” Lady Simpson said as she pulled at her glove. “I was hoping you might be able to assist me.”
Amanda nodded, completely confused, all the while her stomach churned. She needed to get this woman out of here. So many things would be ruined if she discovered Lord Warwick’s presence.
“Of course,”
Lady Simpson took a quick breath. “I was hoping you could tell me the whereabouts of Lord Warwick.”
Amanda’s heart jumped. What? Did this woman know that Lord Warwick was upstairs? How? Her mind floundered for a second, looking for the trap.
A thump upstairs made her jump. Had the woman heard, would she attribute it to her maid. Or did she know the truth already?
“I would normally have approached Lady Bradford,” the countess continued. “You know, one countess to another. But she has not yet returned to town.”
Amanda had to scramble to remember that Olivia was now Lady Bradford.
How could she answer the woman? And why did she want to know Lord Warwick’s location? Where they lovers? Was that it? Suddenly, a flash of anger flared inside of Amanda’s chest.
“I am sorry, Lady Simpson. I can’t help you,” Amanda said, holding the other woman’s stare.
The countess looked at her for a long moment, as if judging her integrity. At last, her shoulder’s slumped. “A shame, I really needed to talk to him.”
Amanda knew she needed to steer this woman away. An image of women turning their backs on her flashed into her mind. She needed to get her out of her house as soon as possible.
Shrugging, she said, “I am sorry, but Lord Warwick and myself don’t exactly travel in the same circles. Have you tried the gambling dens? Or perhaps one of the bordellos. From what I hear, he spends quite a bit of time there.”
Lady Simpson stepped back, obviously shocked.
“There is no need to be crude,” the woman said, shaking her head with disbelief that Amanda could even think of criticizing a British Lord.
Amanda gave Lady Simpson her best smile. The one she reserved for women she thought unintelligent and not worth her time.
The two women looked at each other for a second then Lady Simpson backed down and pulled at her gloves again.
“Yes, well. I thought perhaps... But it seems I was wrong. Please forgive me for intruding on your day.”
Amanda turned to open the front door, “It is of no matter, you are always welcome here, Lady Simpson.”
The woman looked at her again then at the front door. At last, she thanked Amanda one last time then departed, her head held high. As if she should be thanked for visiting.
Amanda closed the door behind her and then rested her back against it. What was that all about? Then, pushing herself off the door, she rushed upstairs.
“Why does that woman want to talk to you?” she asked as she stepped into the room. “Do you have any idea what would happen to me if people discovered you had been under this roof for a week. They would believe I was your mistress.”
Molly sent her a confused look for a second then scurried out the door.
Lord Warwick winced. “You are right of course. I will leave you at once.” Twisting, he tried to get his legs over the side of the bed.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said as she rushed to him and gently pushed his legs back onto the bed. “And don’t believe you have to fix everything. I asked if you were aware, not to fix things.”
“Besides,” she continued. “I won’t have you leaving until we know it is safe.”
Lord Warwick frowned then slumped back onto the bed.
“I will let you rest, we can talk about this some more later,” she told him.
He sighed slightly and closed his eyes, then opened them again to say, “I need to send a note to my mother.”
Amanda’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. The last thing she would have imagined was this man worrying about what his mother might think.
“I will get you some paper and ink.”
Lord Warwick scoffed, “I can’t write, my arm is not working as it should. Not yet. I will need you to write it for me.”
“Of course,” she said as she saw the look of doubt in his eyes. He was worried, she realized. Worried about what he would be able to do once his arm and hip healed. Would he be the same man? His concerns were written all over his face for just a flash, then quickly, he put them behind him and feigned that British aristocratic nonchalance he was famous for.
She retrieved her portable writing desk from her room and arranged it on her lap as she waited for him.
He thought for a moment then said. “Please, just write, ‘Caught two fish, but the waters are beautiful,’ then sign it Toad.”
“Toad?” she asked.
He laughed slightly. “It is a name my brother gave to me. A prank he pulled on our governess that I was blamed for.”
Amanda smiled to herself. What had it been like to be raised with brothers? As an only child, she had often wondered what it would be like to have a sibling.
Finishing the note, he gave her an address then instructed her to make sure she had a street urchin deliver the note. Under no circumstances could she be seen approaching his home.
Amanda nodded as she sealed the note.
“Anyone else, the government perhaps?”
He shook his head no. “One of the men I suspect works in the foreign office. I can’t risk it.”
Her stomach tightened up. A man in their own government might be supplying the enemy with information. The sense of betrayal was immense. This man travels in a different world, she realized. No wonder he presents so many different fronts.
Glancing up from the letter in her hands, she found Lord Warwick already asleep. The small effort of writing had wrung the last bit of energy out of him.
She would let him rest and check his bandages when she returned. In the meantime, she would make sure this note was delivered. No mother should have to worry about her son’s wellbeing.
But before she stood up, she sat for a moment and watched him. He was so different than the man she had thought he was. So not the callow rake, not the frivolous lord. All form, no function. No this was a man who placed his life on the line daily. A man who risked everything to fight for something greater than himself.
A man to be admired, she realized with a start. So not the Lord Warwick she had always pictured in her mind.