table. Shame curled around her heart and gripped it so tightly that she struggled to breathe. He looked so perfect in his gold-and-black livery, his dark hair falling across his eyes as he settled the tray into place. When he finished, he moved discreetly out of the way and settled into his post in the corner. He didn’t look her way, yet she had the sense that he was aware of her, and that only made her guilt worse.
“Gran, I’m afraid I’m not feeling well. I think I shall lie down.”
“You would feel better if you ate,” Gwen said. “Ladies shouldn’t be afraid to eat. There would be a lot less of those silly fainting spells if they did.”
“I believe tight corsets play a part in that as well, Gran.”
“Don’t get me started on those. Ridiculous contraptions, wildly overused. You should have yours loosened immediately if you feel it might be to blame.”
Venetia kissed her grandmother’s cheek and made her excuses to Lady Devon before slipping out of the room. By the time she had reached the stairs, silly, childish tears coated her cheeks. She had been such a fool and an inconsiderate woman. She wouldn’t summon Adrian again, no matter how much the thought broke her heart.
Gwen lightly tapped her cane as she waited in the small line to collect her lunch, but her mind was far from food. Something was wrong with Venetia, and it was not her ankle. She’d been fine until . . . Well, until Mrs. Hamill had left the room with the dashing footman who’d been tending to Venetia. Was it simple jealousy? Her granddaughter was not usually prone to such things. But it was easy to see how one could be jealous over a fine young man like Adrian.
She prepared her plate and moved to the table. Adrian stepped up to pull her seat out for her, and she crooked a finger at him so that he leaned down to her level.
“Could you see to Lady Venetia? She is ill, and I am most worried.”
A spark of concern lit Adrian’s eyes. He nodded and left immediately. When Gwen turned back to the table, she saw Mrs. Hamill watching her with a calculating gleam in her stare. Gwen stared back sternly. Mrs. Hamill flinched, and Gwen raised her chin in victory. There was no man or woman who hadn’t backed down when Gwen set that stare on them.
“Now, Lady Devon, when can we expect the rest of our party back from all that hunting nonsense?”
Adrian knocked on Venetia’s door. There was a moment of silence before she answered.
“Who is it?”
“Adrian, your ladyship. Lady Latham sent me to see if you are all right.”
The long silence that followed filled him with dread. He hadn’t liked how pale Venetia had been in the dining room, and he’d never been more relieved to receive Lady Latham’s orders to go and check on her.
“Please go away. I am quite fine.” Her voice was stilted, unnatural, which made his concern only deepen. Taking the risk of upsetting her, he opened the door.
Venetia sat in a chair by the unlit fireplace, wiping tears from her eyes. When he closed the door, she glanced up at him and then burst into tears again. Adrian rushed to her side and knelt by the chair, taking her hands in his.
“What’s the matter?”
She shook her head and refused to meet his eyes.
“Please, my love, tell me,” he begged. “You are destroying me with your tears.” He wiped at her eyes with his fingertips.
“I can’t,” she whispered.
“Are you in pain? Should I send for the doctor?”
She shook her head frantically. “No, no, it isn’t that.”
Adrian was overstepping his bounds, but he couldn’t bear to see her suffer. He lifted her up from the chair and took her place, then pulled her onto his lap so he could hold her in his arms. She was trembling.
“Venetia, tell me what’s wrong.”
She placed a hand on his chest. Her fingers splayed over the gold-and-black striped waistcoat of his uniform. Her breath hitched. “You must despise me—that’s all I can think.”
“What? Why would I?”
Tears clung to her thick dark-gold lashes. “I am no better than Mrs. Hamill,” she sniffled. “I ordered you to my bed and put your employment at risk.”
Comprehension dawned on him. He couldn’t help but smile, and when she noticed, her brow wrinkled in confusion.
“My lady.” His voice softened as warm emotions burrowed deep inside him. “You and Mrs. Hamill are not the same, certainly not