Winning the Gentleman (Hearts on the Heath #2) - Kristi Ann Hunter Page 0,106

his head turning to follow his friend. “I’ve never known him to go without at least one of us being in Town.”

Aaron had rooms in London? As in a residence he paid for all the time but only used occasionally? Wasn’t that expensive? While his cottage was cozy and comfortable, it was hardly the abode of a man who could afford to keep rooms in another city, much less London.

Did she know him at all?

Lady Adelaide stepped forward. “Breakfast has been laid out in the dining room. Perhaps we could move this conversation there?”

Lady Wharton pushed off the settee and wrapped an arm around her rounded middle. “We would certainly not mind eating.”

Her husband coughed out a laugh. “You never mind eating.”

“It’s your child’s fault, you know.”

“I do.” Lord Wharton hugged his wife to his side and kissed her on the head. “I also know everything is going to be that poor child’s fault for at least the next ten years.”

Lady Wharton sniffed but didn’t deny the claim.

Tension flowed beneath the civility of food and conversation. Once in a while the talk would turn to speculation of Aaron’s whereabouts. Inevitably, someone would comment that the man had been taking care of himself for years and everyone’s concern was needless. That it was someone different pointing it out each time amused Sophia even as it worried her.

Breakfast was interrupted by the butler stepping in to address Lord Trent. “My lord, there is a lad here who says he has an urgent message that must be delivered straight into the recipient’s hand.”

Lord Trent frowned and started to rise.

The butler cleared his throat. “The letter is not for you, sir. It’s for Miss Fitzroy.”

Every eye in the room swung toward Sophia.

“Is it the boy from the inn?” Miss Snowley asked.

“Yes, miss.”

“Finally,” she said on a sigh, exchanging glances with Miss Hancock. “You might as well send him in. I’m guessing he has more than one letter to deliver.”

“Why would you think that?” Lord Wharton asked.

“Because Aaron sent me a letter before he left town and said it would make more sense in a day or two. I would surmise it’s time for the rest of the puzzle pieces to be placed.”

A beat of silence preceded the ruckus of voices.

Miss Snowley crossed her arms and lifted her chin in the air, looking entirely unrepentant about remaining silent. Miss Hancock beamed, glancing about as if they were putting on the best show ever.

Lord Trent wore an expression of similar amusement. After a few moments of chaos, he lifted his hand, and the room stumbled into a tense restraint. He nodded to the butler. “Send the boy in but give us a minute first.”

The servant departed with a nod.

Lord Wharton was the first to speak. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“Because Aaron asked me not to,” Miss Snowley said. “Pleasant as you all seem to be, I’ve known him a sight longer than I’ve known any of you.”

Sophia had to applaud that reason, but why would Aaron contact no one other than Miss Snowley?

Sophia glanced at Lord Stildon to see if he was battling the same frisson of jealousy she was.

“Besides,” Miss Snowley continued, “I did tell someone. I told Harriet.”

Miss Hancock smiled. “Of course you contacted me. This lot wouldn’t have been the least bit of help.”

“What did he ask you to do?” Lord Stildon asked.

“Pack a trunk.”

He laid his fork down slowly. “Are you traveling?”

“I didn’t pack it for me.”

The butler showed the boy in. His wide eyes looked around the table before he pulled out a handful of folded letters. “Blimey, are you all here?”

“Perhaps you should start with Miss Fitzroy’s letter and then go through the stack?” Miss Snowley suggested.

The boy nodded. “I’m supposed to put it directly in her hand.” He swallowed and eased farther into the room. “This one’s for you, Miss Fitzroy.”

“Thank you.” Sophia bit her lip as she reached out to accept it. “I’m afraid I haven’t any coin—”

“I’m not supposed to take one even if you do,” the boy said in a rush. “Mr. Whitworth took care of everything.”

“So it would seem.” Sophia opened the note with more than a little trepidation. She mumbled to herself, “Aaron, what did you do?”

The letter was short, but the ache it brought was enormous.

Dear Miss Fitzroy,

The formality of the greeting alone brought tears to her eyes.

Despite your performance, I’m afraid tying your introduction to me has made it impossible for you to gain the respect your abilities deserve. I cannot let