Regency Society. Ann LethbridgeЧитать онлайн книгу.
late you have given me little reason for mirth, Lord Folbroke.’
‘Change is in the air, Hendricks. I am my old self, again, after a very long time.’
‘So it would seem, my lord.’
‘Can you not manage, after all the time in my service, to call me Adrian? Or Folbroke, at least.’
‘No, my lord.’ But the title was given with affection, and so he allowed it to pass. Hendricks cleared his throat. ‘But if I might take the liberty of informing Lady Folbroke of your improved mood, she might be most gratified.’
Adrian felt the return of the old panic at the realisation that Emily would get wind of his plans, should they be carried too far before he had explained himself. ‘That must wait until I have had a chance to speak to her myself. But you think she would approve?’
‘Yes, my lord. She still enquires after you regularly. And she has been concerned by your silence.’
‘But she did not respond to my summons.’
‘If I might be so bold, my lord, as to offer advice?’
‘Of course.’
‘I believe it was the manner, and not the man, she objected to.’
Adrian sighed. ‘I have made so many mistakes with the poor girl I hardly know where to begin to rectify them.’
‘She has not been a poor girl for some time, my lord.’ And there again was that strange sense of admiration that he heard sometimes when Hendricks spoke to him of his wife. And he remembered that the reconciliation he imagined might not be welcomed by his friend.
‘It is my own punishment that I was not there to see Emily blossom into the woman she has become. Too proud to watch her with half my sight. And now I cannot see her at all.’ He sighed. ‘Thank you for taking care of her, Hendricks.’
‘I? I have done nothing, my lord.’
‘I suspect that is not true.’ And what did he expect the man to say? Nothing he wanted to hear. But Adrian could not seem to leave the subject alone.
Hendricks said, after some thought, ‘For the most, she takes care of herself. I do very little but to follow her wishes. But I am sure, if you speak to her for yourself, you will find her eager to listen.’
‘Perhaps I shall.’ And his nerve failed him again. ‘But not today. Today, I think I shall go out for lunch.’
‘Out, my lord?’ He could almost hear Hendricks’s brain, ticking through the possibilities, trying to decide where he would be drawn so early in the day. And whether there would be a way from dissuading him from whatever fresh folly he had discovered. For though the morning had been full of promise, Adrian had given his poor friend no reason to believe that his good intentions would last to the afternoon.
When Hendricks could not come up with the answer on his own, he responded, ‘When I have completed the tasks you set for me, I will accompany you.’
‘Will you, now? And did I ask for a companion, Mr Hendricks?’
‘No, my lord.’
‘Then you needn’t stir yourself. What I do, I must do for myself. You are not a member, after all.’
‘Not a member? What the devil …?’ For a moment, Hendricks was completely lost. And his subservience slipped, revealing the man underneath.
Adrian reached out into the open air, until he could find the secretary’s arm and give it a reassuring pat. ‘Do not concern yourself, man. I am not an infant. I will manage well enough on my own for a few hours in broad daylight. Now, call for the carriage. And tell the cook I will not be home for supper.’
White’s.
It was the very bastion of the sort of gentlemanly society that he had denied himself in the months since his sight had utterly failed. He had forgotten how peaceful it was, compared to the taverns he had been frequenting, and the sense of belonging and entitlement that a membership carried with it. It was a place where eccentricity was ignored. If a man had the blunt and the connections to be invited through the front door, then even aberrant behaviour might be deemed, if not creditable, at least not worthy of comment.
And when comment could no longer be restrained, then someone would most likely get out the betting book. Adrian grinned in anticipation.
‘Lord Folbroke. May I help you with your hat and coat?’
‘You can help me with several things,’ he said, turning to the servant and placing his hand on the man’s arm. ‘It has been some time since I have been here. Have the arrangements changed at all?’
‘My lord?’ The footman seemed surprised, and a little confused at the question.
‘It is my eyes, you see.’ He passed his own hand in front of his face, to indicate the imperviousness of them. ‘Not as blind as a bat, perhaps. But near enough.’ Blind. Saying the word aloud felt good, as though it had been trapped on his tongue for an age, waiting to be shaken off. ‘Take my hat and gloves. But my stick must remain with me.’ Then he added, ‘And I would appreciate a brief description of the room and its occupants.’
Once he was aware of what was required, the servant was totally amenable to the task, and not the least bit shocked or embarrassed by the request. He explained, sotto voce, who and what were to be found on the other side of the threshold. Then he said, ‘Will there be anything else, my lord?’
‘A drink, perhaps. Whatever the others are enjoying. You may bring it to me, once I have found a seat. And please announce yourself when you do so, for I might not hear you approach.’ Then he turned back to the difficult task of re-entering society.
He stood for just a moment, taking a deep breath of the familiarly stuffy air. It was a trifle too hot in the room for him. But hadn’t it always been so? He could smell alcohol and tobacco. But not the foul stuff he’d grown accustomed to. The smell of quality was as sharp as the ink on a fresh pound note.
‘Folbroke!’ There was a cry of welcome at the sight of him, followed by the sudden silence as his old friends realised that something had changed.
‘Anneslea?’ He started forwards, towards the voice of his old friend Harry and forgot himself, stumbling into a table and almost upsetting a game of cards. He apologised to the gentlemen in front of him, and turned to go around, only to feel Harry seize him by the arm and draw him forwards.
‘Folbroke. Adrian. It has been almost a year since I have seen you. Where have you been?’ And then a quieter, and more worried, ‘And what has happened? Come. Sit. Talk.’
He smiled and shrugged, allowing the help of friendship. ‘I have not been very good company, I am afraid.’ Anneslea pressed him to a chair, and almost instantly the servant returned with a glass of wine. Adrian took a sip to steady his nerves. Suddenly, speaking a few simple words seemed more fearsome than a cavalry charge. ‘My eyes failed me.’
‘You are …?’
‘Blind.’ He said it again, and again there came a small lightening of spirit. ‘It has been all downhill since that flash burn in Salamanca.’
Harry gripped his arm. ‘There is no hope for recovery?’
Adrian patted his hand. ‘The eyes in my family are no damned good at all, I’m afraid. The same thing happened to my father. I had hoped to dodge the condition. But it appears I am not to be spared.’
There was the pause he’d expected. Then Anneslea burst forth with a relieved laugh. ‘Better to find you blind than foxed before noon. When I saw you running into the furniture, I feared I’d have to take you home and put you to bed.’
The men around him laughed as well, and for a change he laughed with them, at his own folly.
‘Folbroke?’
Adrian