Summer's Distant Heart - Laura Landon Page 0,5
expression was filled with the same alarm Lia felt.
“Give us a moment, then show his lordship in, Hobson.”
“Very well, my lady.”
“Let me do the talking, Lia.”
Lia nodded, then sat rigidly in her chair. She rehearsed the plan she and her aunt had formed weeks earlier.
“The Earl of Atherton, my lady,” Hobson announced, then stepped aside to admit the man who, in their minds, posed a most dangerous threat.
“Bring in a fresh tea tray, Hobson.”
“Yes, my lady.”
Lia wasn’t sure what she’d expected. Perhaps a man who resembled the babe. Someone blond with blue eyes and a ready smile on his face. The man who stood before her, however, was the opposite of anything she’d conjured in her mind.
“Lord Atherton,” Aunt Mildred greeted.
Lia stared at the dark, imposing figure as he lowered to a respectful bow.
Lia took in his height and the breadth of his shoulders that nearly filled the doorway. Much taller and he would have had to lower his head to enter the room. He wore a formidable frown that made him appear angry and…dangerous.
His hair was as dark as little George’s was light and his eyes were equally dark and lacking any softness. He stood as an unreadable sphinx, hardened with lethal calmness.
His shirt and cravat were a pristine white and his jacket, trousers, and waistcoat were funereal black. But his perfectly tailored attire wasn’t what drew her eye and refused to allow her to look away from him. The deep bronze of his rugged features is what caused her to keep her gaze focused on his face. His profile was sharp and confident. His high cheekbones were strong and rigid. His jaw was sculptured in captivating lines that evidenced a formidable strength.
He seemed all ruthlessness, danger, and unapproachability.
Lia shivered.
There was nothing soft or yielding in the man who stood before them. In his black gloves and his coat with its black armband he should have presented the sympathetic picture of a gentleman in deep mourning. But to Lia it made him simply intimidating. Lia knew it would take all her courage to stand up to him. All her fortitude and determination to protect herself and the babe if she intended to succeed in keeping Janice’s babe safe.
“Lady Collinson,” the man greeted with a sharp bow.
“Lord Atherton. Allow me to present my niece, Miss Halloway.”
“Miss Halloway?” he questioned. “Don’t you mean Lady Atherton?”
A terrifying silence stretched throughout the room. He knew. He knew Janice and his brother had married.
Hobson and a maid arrived with the tea tray and placed it before her aunt. Thankfully, the interruption gave Lia a moment to gather her courage.
Her auntie had not corrected his assumption that he was meeting his late brother’s wife. Lia swallowed hard. Could they? Did they dare? Was it possible they might deceive the man into thinking she was Janice? In truth, it could turn the table in her behalf. It was one thing to try and take a child from his aunt. But his mother? Surely they would be much less willing to take such a drastic measure. Lia’s mind raced forward, seeking to identify every aspect of their secret if she was to carry it off.
Aunt Mildred poured tea and handed Lord Atherton a cup. Then she handed Lia a cup before pouring one for herself. The china teacup that had always felt substantial in Lia’s hand looked miniature in the large, steady hand of Lord Atherton.
Lia placed her cup on the table in front of her without taking even one swallow. She knew if she tried to take a sip her hands would shake so badly Lord Atherton would know how severely his presence affected her.
Their guest finished his tea and placed his cup and saucer on a side table, then let his gaze focus on Lia’s attire. She wore black today as was only appropriate in mourning Janice’s death. But he wouldn’t know of that. He would think that somehow she had heard of her estranged husband’s death.
Fortunately she had dissuaded her aunt from decking the house in high mourning for Janice. That would have been quite a bit more difficult to explain, in light of the deception they were prepared to carry out.
“May I presume you know of your husband’s death, Lady Atherton?”
Lia lowered her gaze to her lap. He’d merely stated a cold, hard fact. No commiseration. No effort to express sympathy. “Yes, my lord. I have been so informed.”
She was so very grateful that she didn’t have to try to look the part