was to be interrupted. He wanted to at least appear that he was busy writing his latest manuscript, even if no words had found their way to the page tonight.
"Beg your pardon, sir," a soft voice came through the door with a knock.
"Enter," Lord John called in a voice that seemed as if he was deep in work.
Lord John set down his pen just as Mrs. Smith, the housekeeper, entered the room. He covered up his blank papers quickly so it appeared as though he were working hard.
"I am sorry to interrupt, but a curious visitor has come to the door," Mrs. Smith informed him, with her hands presently placed in front of her.
"A visitor at this hour?" Lord John questioned, looking at his pocket watch.
He saw Mrs. Smith's grey eyebrow raise in questioning, and he guessed his acting skills were very wanting. Lord John let out a breath as he pocketed his timekeeper.
"I must confess I was at the window and saw them enter the garden. I'm sure you know I had no plans to receive company tonight. Did the visitors give names?"
"Yes," Mrs. Smith said with a soft smirk on her lips. "They were a sodden mess, so I hope you don't mind that I took the liberty of showing them into the house. I couldn't bear to have the little one in the rain any longer. The lady is a Miss Bridget Thatcher, and she brings with her a Miss Betsy Smelting."
"Betsy? That is my cousin Frank's daughter. Why on earth would she be here, and all on her own?" Lord John spoke though he more mused to himself.
As a lover of books and writing, he found nothing could stir the imagination quite like an unexpected mystery.
"Miss Thatcher gave me no reason for their arrival only that she has requested to speak with you, sir," Mrs. Smith answered. "Should I show them into the drawing-room or keep them dripping in the hall?" she added to bring him back to the present from his sudden musing.
"Yes, of course. Show them in. Make sure Perkins has a roaring fire and does his best to dry their outer things. I will join them in a moment."
Mrs. Smith nodded and turned to do his bidding. She was an able woman and had already ordered Perkins to prepare the parlour for the guests. She also knew well enough that Lord John Hughan had done little work on his manuscript since his arrival a week ago, this night being no exception.
She had known Lord John since his early teenage years as he and his family returned to their London home quite often for the season. She rather hoped that this small distraction was just what he needed to alleviate the pressure that was so clearly keeping him from his work.
Lord John entered the parlour to find his two mysterious guests huddled in front of the fire. The lady was bent over little Betsy rubbing the child’s hands to bring warmth back into them. There was still a good deal of the lady's hem darkened by water, and a small pool formed at her feet, supplied by sodden ringlets of hair dripping towards the ground.
"Do you suppose John will remember me?" the child asked.
"Of course he will," the lady responded as she continued to warm the child by the fire. "Your parents spoke very highly of him. You may not remember as you were so little when he last saw you, but he loved you dearly. Your father said he often gave you horse rides on his back every night before bed when he came to visit you."
"But I was not more than four when he saw me last," Betsy answered, looking to the lady for confirmation in her surmise. "I have changed so much now that I am in my eighth year."
Lord John cleared his throat, seeing that they had no awareness of his entrance, "You may be several years older now, but there is little chance I could ever forget such a sweet little girl."
Betsy turned at the announcement, both of them slightly startled by the sudden male intrusion into their conversation. Betsy’s small face was still somewhat round in a babyish fashion. Though her golden blonde hair was wet and sticking to her, she had a rose to her cheeks that told him she was still very well despite the rain.
Betsy came rushing forward in her excitement and wrapped her little wet body around Lord John before he even had a