Wed in Disgrace (Convenient Arrangements #3) - Rose Pearson Page 0,22

say just as he managed to crawl into the shadow of the couch, his breathing much heavier than he would have liked. “Shall we go in?”

A cheer met these words and the door was flung open wide. Timothy tried his best to listen to the voices, to see if he could recognize any, but none were known to him.

“I thought you said Robertson was in here?” queried the first. “Where is he?”

“I do not know,” answered the second, sounding quite confused. “I was sure that he...good gracious!”

At that moment, Timothy knew that Lord Robertson—whoever he was—had been found. Squeezing his eyes closed, he tried to keep his breathing at a steady pace, too afraid to move even an inch for fear of alerting the gentlemen to his presence. It seemed quite foolish, in some respects, to be hiding from them, but if he rose now to reveal himself to them, then surely, they would wonder just what he was doing there.

“Go and fetch a footman at once,” said a third voice. “He must be revived. I—”

“He has been struck!” exclaimed a fourth voice. “Look, on his head! There is matted blood.”

There was a moment of weighty silence.

“I did not see it at first,” said the first voice. “His hair is so very dark, and I did not imagine that he...” He cleared his throat and then his voice rang with an air of authority. “Fetch a footman at once so that we might gain all we require for Lord Robertson. And someone help me to lift him onto that couch.”

Timothy closed his eyes tightly, fearing that the gentlemen would soon discover him. He lay on his side, his back to the wall, his face towards the couch and his knees drawn up to his chest. He dared not even breathe as the gentlemen lay Lord Robertson on the sofa. He could feel the vibrations of their feet on the floor as they walked, heard the couch creak as Lord Robertson’s weight was set upon it.

And then, there was nothing more he could do but wait and pray that, with all the comings and goings, no one would look behind the couch, no one would see him hiding in the shadows on the floor.

Miss Mullins.

She was waiting for him to return, he remembered, wincing as he recalled just how he had promised to hurry back to her once he had gained the agreement of her uncle. No doubt she was now waiting for him, expecting him to give her news of what her uncle had said, hoping that she would be able to step out on the floor with him.

No doubt, in not returning to her, she would think all the worse of him. It would not be his impression of her that now mattered, but her impression of him—especially given that they were now meant to be courting rather than immediately becoming engaged!

“What has happened to this fellow?”

Timothy closed his eyes tightly, hearing the brusque voice of their host, Lord Fotheringham.

“I believe,” he heard another voice say, the voice filled with a gravity that seemed to spread to every corner of the room, “that someone has deliberately and viciously attacked Lord Robertson. But as yet, Lord Fotheringham, we do not know who has done this terrible thing.”

There came a pronounced silence and Timothy shivered involuntarily. Should he be discovered, then the blame for Lord Robertson’s attack would land squarely on his shoulders. Perhaps that was precisely what had been intended.

“Then let us hope that we soon discover the culprit,” Lord Fotheringham grated. “Once Lord Robertson has roused, have a footman alert me at once. I must ensure that my guest is returned home as well as he can be.” There came a moment of silence. “And I do not want any of this to be mentioned to another living soul!” he declared, his voice rising just a little. “Lord Hewlett? Should there be a mention of this to anyone, should I hear a single rumor of what occurred, then I will know precisely where it came from!”

His eyes still closed, Timothy felt a shudder run down his spine. This was a very grave matter indeed.

Chapter Five

Delilah flushed as a lady glanced first at her and then at Miss Jamieson before turning her head away, making to ignore her. Her companion, however, smiled slightly as they passed, removing the threat of the cut direct.

“You should not be out walking with me, Miss Jamieson,” Delilah said helplessly. “I can see that your