of parchment closed with Sandhurst's seal. "His lordship asked me to give you this."
She took it, trembling slightly, and whispered, "Where is he?"
"Gone to London, my lady. He left with Sir Jeremy Culpepper late last night."
"Oh." No matter how many times she told herself that she hated Andrew and didn't care what he did, her heart would not be convinced. "Please, stay for a few minutes, Betsy."
Haltingly she broke the seal and opened the paper, reading:
Michelle,
I have business in London, as you know, and this seemed a proper time to take care of it.
My hope is that you will resolve whatever it is that's troubling you while I'm away. Since you don't seem to want my help (just the opposite), I've taken you at your word and am leaving you alone.
Do, please, remember that I love you.
By your husband,
Sandhurst.
It was very terse and to the point, right down to his signature. Micheline tried to dismiss the austere declaration of love, but a rush of emotion in her breast would not be denied. "Did he say anything to you, Betsy?"
"Very little, my lady. He asked me if I knew what might be upsetting you, and I said no. I can't recall the last time I saw Lord Andrew in so black a mood. At first I thought the ale he and Sir Jeremy drank at the stables might be the cause, but I soon realized that whatever passed between the two of you had rendered him utterly sober." She gave Micheline a searching look. "Do you want to hear the rest?"
"Yes. Please."
"He asked me if anyone had been here talking to you during the day. He seemed to think that someone had been putting ideas into your head, and quite frankly I had the feeling he was rather upset that you might accept someone else's lies over the truth from his own lips."
"I see you've taken his side, and I'm not surprised. You'd be wise, though, to think twice before accepting the word of so charming a man. I trusted him, too, until I learned of his infidelity from two different sources."
Betsy studied the younger woman's stubborn profile. "I don't know what you heard, my lady, but I've known Lord Andrew nearly all my life. Charming he may be, but he's never used it as a weapon—and he's never lied to me or anyone else here at Sandhurst Manor!" She stood up, then paused to look back at the bed, trying to keep the anger from her voice. "There's one thing I do know, and you should too! Lord Andrew loves you better than his life! When he left, he asked me to look after you and I'll do so, but I must say I'm not very happy right now to claim you as my mistress!"
* * *
That evening Micheline dined with Patience and Cicely in the summer parlor. There was venison left over from the day before, plus mushroom and orange salad, an herb pudding, and almond soup that Patience had made that afternoon and now served with her own hands.
Micheline had come downstairs only because Patience had urged her to do so. She needed to get out of that bedchamber and eat a wholesome meal, Patience insisted, if only for the sake of her baby.
During supper Cicely stared at her new sister-in-law as if seeing her for the first time. Although she'd made up her mind before they ever met that she detested the Frenchwoman, she now found her heart softening as she regarded her poignantly sad expression. There were lilac-hued smudges under her luminous eyes, and her mouth turned down at the corners in a way that constantly threatened tears.
"I hope you're not worried about Andrew," Cicely ventured at one point. "He'll be fine on his own... and I know he'll be back here soon."
Micheline nibbled at a wedge of orange, then pushed the food around her dish with a new pearl-handled fork. "I suppose..."
"It's probably a good thing that he's away for a bit," Patience said, leaning over to put a bowl of soup in front of her. "You've had a shock, my dear, and can use this time to adjust."
Cicely's expression was troubled as she looked from one woman to the other. "Andrew's not a monster! I mean, there's no reason for you to stop—uh—caring about him."
Arching a warning brow at the younger girl, Patience agreed, "That will come in time, of course."
At that moment Betsy Trymme appeared in the doorway. "Pardon the interruption, my lady,