Wed in Disgrace (Convenient Arrangements #3) - Rose Pearson Page 0,21

do anything else.”

Timothy frowned, seeing the frustration in Lord Denholm’s expression and feeling the same irritation clasp to his own heart. “I must court the lady?”

“Before you become engaged,” Lord Denholm said with a nod. “I am sure you understand.” Not allowing Timothy to say more, Lord Denholm waved his hand again and turned around, wandering away and leaving Timothy to stand alone. His heart was beating more quickly than he had expected, finding himself both astonished and irritated that he now, apparently, was no longer simply able to declare himself betrothed to Miss Mullins but had to evidently court her for a short time! That had not been in the original agreement and, as he considered what Lord Denholm had stated, he wondered what it was that Lady Newfield had said to convince the fellow to do as she required. Lord Denholm was a hard man and yet, evidently, Lady Newfield had been able to make her demands and have them entirely fulfilled.

“Lord Coventry?”

He turned his head to see a footman waiting to speak to him. A little taken aback, he cleared his throat.

“Yes?”

“You are requested to join Lord Holland in the blue room, Lord Coventry.”

Timothy frowned, looking hard at the footman. “What are you speaking of?”

The footman did not appear to be either insulted or flustered, holding Timothy’s gaze. “I have had a message from Lord Holland, requesting you to come to the blue room.”

“Why?”

One eyebrow lifted. “I did not ask, my lord.”

Still feeling uncertain, Timothy cleared his throat again and put his hands behind his back. He was meant to speak to Miss Mullins now, to tell her that he had obtained permission from her uncle to dance with him, but this message from Lord Holland seemed important. Given their upset only a few minutes earlier, mayhap Lord Holland had asked him to come so that he might apologize.

“Very well,” he said as the footman nodded. “Where is the blue room, pray tell?”

“I shall be glad to take you there myself,” the footman said, turning around and beginning to walk back the way Timothy had come at the first. Timothy followed without question, leaving the great hall and making his way through a small corridor, which then led to some other rooms.

“This room here, my lord,” the footman said, bowing and then turning to depart immediately. Timothy hesitated for a moment and then stepped forward, pushing open the door handle and looking at what was, in fact, not a blue room in any way. Of Lord Holland, there was no sign.

“Holland?” he said, coming in a little closer and looking all about him, seeing the empty chairs and noting the empty fireplace. Aside from a few lit candles, there did not appear to be anyone present. Sighing, he turned on his heel—only to see what appeared to be a large, dark shadow lying on the ground in the corner. Frowning, he moved closer, only to hesitate. Something was wrong. He could feel it in his heart, and yet whatever that shape was, there was a very strong desire to discover the truth.

Leave, everything in him said. Leave at once.

Frowning hard, Timothy hesitated. Picking up a candlestick, he took a few steps closer, looking at the dark shape with narrowed eyes. Holding the candle out at arm’s length, he caught his breath as he realized a gentleman lay on the floor, appearing to be asleep.

Lord Holland?

Swallowing hard, Timothy froze, his stomach twisting back and forth as he tried his best to come to a decision. Everything in him told him to leave this room at once, but could he merely turn his back on this man, whoever he was?

And then, he heard it. Loud, jeering voices coming closer to the room. Panicking, he placed down the candle and looked all about him, wondering if there was somewhere to hide, somewhere he could press himself without being seen by anyone.

The voices were drawing ever closer, making his heart quicken with panic. If he were discovered with a gentleman lying, seemingly unconscious, on the floor, then would those who discovered him not almost instantly assume that he had been the one to injure that fellow, given his reputation?

A large couch was at the opposite side of the room and Timothy flew to it at once, practically flinging himself over the top of it. His cravat became loose, his jacket undone, but he did not care. He knew he had to hide.

“I think he is just in here,” he heard someone