The Formidable Earl (Diamonds in the Rough #6) - Sophie Barnes Page 0,47

hadn’t quite gone away while they’d spoken to Murdoch. Now that she was alone with Simon once more, it flared back to life. She glanced at him discreetly, at his strained features and rigid posture. “Regarding our previous conversation…”

A nerve ticked at the edge of his jaw. His eyes, seeking hers, looked almost angry. Ida shuddered. “There’s nothing more to discuss. You know where I stand.”

They didn’t say anything else for the remainder of the ride. When they reached the newspaper office, Simon asked her to wait in the carriage while he went to post the advertisement. Half an hour later, he delivered her to Number Five Bedford Street as promised and accompanied her inside. She took off her bonnet but he refrained from removing his hat or his gloves. He wouldn’t be staying this time. He’d said he wouldn’t, so why the disappointment on her part?

“I’m supporting a couple of bills in Parliament,” he said while lingering near the door. Voting will take place tomorrow and Thursday, so I have to attend.”

“In other words, you’ll be busy for the next two days.” She wished she didn’t feel so much regret over having to lose his company, if only for a brief time.

“I’m sorry, but it can’t be helped. And while you might be itching to follow the new leads we’ve acquired, it will have to wait until Friday.” A brief hesitation followed, and then he said, “On a different note, I’d like you to reconsider my offer regarding a servant.”

“We’ve been over this repeatedly,” Ida protested. He’d brought the subject up at least five times since their run-in with the Duchess of Huntley at La Belle Anglaise.

“We need not fill the house with people if you do not wish it,” he said, “but I think it would be good for you to have someone else here with you. It would, in my opinion, be the responsible thing.”

“I don’t want to put anyone else in danger.”

“Which I respect, but we have to consider the fact that you are supposed to be my ward. As such, you cannot remain here alone. It isn’t proper.”

“Simon, I—”

“Have you given any thought to how you will prepare for the ball without someone to help you dress?”

Ida huffed out a breath. He’d neatly managed to corner her. “All right. Fine. I’ll agree to a maid of all works if that will satisfy you.”

“Thank you.” He stiffly bent to place a quick kiss on her cheek. “I’ll stop by early on Friday so we can discuss whatever I may have learned by then before heading off to the Huntley ball. I’ll bring the maid with me.”

Ida could only nod. His kiss, so lacking the ardor he’d put on display earlier, was devastating. He was devastating. And as she bid him good bye and watched him walk back to his carriage, she knew she’d miss him terribly until she saw him again.

Chapter Nine

“Do I not have any letters, notes, or invitations from the Marquess of Kirksdale lying around?” Simon asked Winthorp the next morning. After returning home the previous afternoon, he’d riffled through every piece of correspondence he had on file. Finding examples of his uncle’s handwriting had been easy enough. He had several letters and missives from him, and Simon was relieved to see that it didn’t match the lopsided scrawl on the note he’d received from Captain Murdoch.

Neither did Elmwood’s. An inquiry he’d sent Simon three years prior with regard to the purchase of a foal sired by one of Simon’s stallions had proved it.

“If I recall,” his secretary said as he went to one of the cabinets Simon had already searched, “you received a petition from him a few years ago requesting support in his effort to have the Blasphemous and Seditious Libels Act included in what became known as the Six Acts.”

Yes. That was it.

Simon watched as Winthorp retrieved a box labeled 1819. The act Kirksdale had spearheaded allowed magistrates to seize libelous materials and to have those who’d written them transported for up to fourteen years. The purpose had, of course, been to prevent another Peterloo Massacre, but Simon had feared it would stop those who had legitimate concerns from voicing their opinions and that the act would simply serve as a means to silence the masses.

Winthorp riffled through the stack of papers inside the box until he located the sheet he sought. He handed it to Simon, who noted the blank spot at the bottom where he’d been asked to sign.