Chapter 28

28

WILLIAM

T he majority of the guests were in the drawing room, occupied in various pursuits: taking tea, perusing magazines, conversing. For William's part, he held the most recent copy of The Times in hand, but his eyes were on Lady Redgrave, sitting with Lady Cassandra across the room.

He had been paying close attention to Lady Redgrave whenever the opportunity presented itself. Though she and her husband were at times to be found in the same room, he had yet to see them interact. Lord Redgrave was often in conversation with one of the female guests, and it was then that he was at his most charming.

Such was the current situation, and William noted the way Lady Redgrave's gaze flitted to her husband when the woman he was chatting with erupted in laughter. She gave no indication that this bothered her except for the subtlest of eye rolls.

William found her composure and restraint admirable. From what he had seen and gathered, she was both confident and kind. He could easily see why Clara would have enjoyed being her lady's maid—and why it would have injured Clara for Lady Redgrave to believe the falsities her husband had invented. Whatever infatuation with her new husband had led her to give credit to such stories, it seemed to be a thing long past.

He returned his eyes to The Times , but when Lady Redgrave rose a few minutes later to leave, he stared after her for a few seconds, then folded the newspaper and put it aside.

Lady Redgrave was approaching the staircase when he emerged into the corridor, and he strode quickly in the same direction until he could speak without yelling. "Lady Redgrave."

She stopped and turned toward him. "Yes, Your Grace?"

"Might I have a brief word with you?"

Her scrutinizing gaze took him in, as though she was trying to judge what possible reason he could have for wishing to be private with her. "Of course."

"Perhaps I can interest you in a tour of the portrait gallery…"

She smiled slightly. "Most certainly you can."

He made polite conversation with her as they took the stairs to the gallery, asking after her enjoyment of her time at Rushlake. She responded politely, thanking him for the invitation and complimenting the estate.

When they arrived at the gallery, however, William came straight to the purpose. "I have something particular I wish to speak to you about, Lady Redgrave."

She smiled as she admired a portrait of his great-grandfather. "I gathered as much. How can I be of assistance?"

William felt his first bit of hesitation. If he was wrong about Lady Redgrave, the consequences could be very unpleasant. But he was quite certain he was not. "I believe you once employed a lady's maid named Clara. "

Her eyes whipped to him, wide with surprise. "How did you know that?"

"Because she is now a maid at Rushlake."

Her gaze grew more intense. "How is she?"

"She is well. She has spoken very highly of you."

Lady Redgrave blinked quickly and averted her gaze. "She has little enough reason to."

"She is certainly the type of woman to think the best of people." William felt a rush of longing for Clara. "I am aware to some extent of the circumstances surrounding her departure from your service."

Lady Redgrave said nothing, but her cheeks pinked.

"I have not come to speak with you out of a desire to condemn or condone anyone involved. I am merely here to see if I can set something right for which Clara has expressed deep regret."

"It is I who regret all that happened, Your Grace."

"I believe you. Which is why I feel I can safely return this to you." He reached into the inner pocket of his tailcoat and produced the watch and chain Clara had given him.

Lady Redgrave's eyes fixed on the watch, then flitted back to him, wide and questioning.

"She had done no wrong when Lord Redgrave accused her of stealing," William said, "but when she realized she was to be blamed for thieving and dismissed without a character, she took this. Her guilt has prevented her from selling it. I urged her to return it to Lord Redgrave, but she seemed to fear that would not end well for her."

Lady Redgrave took the watch and held it in her palm. "She is right. My husband holds tightly to his perceived wrongs." She said the last two words with a hint of bitterness. She brought her head up and met his gaze, her own clear and determined. "You can trust me to set things right, Your Grace. "

"I am certain that is true, and I thank you for it."

She closed her palm around the pocket watch. "Since I realized the truth about my husband, not a day has passed that I have not thought of Clara and felt sick over it all. Thank you for letting me know she is well."

William nodded. "I can see why she holds you in such high regard, and I am certain she would not wish for you to spend another moment dwelling on the past."

She nodded, her eyes glistening again.

"I will leave you to enjoy the portrait gallery," he said. "I would advise you to avoid the last portrait on the right. Hideous would be a generous way to describe the so-called artist's portrayal of my great-uncle."

With a little smile and a great burden lifted from his shoulders, he made his way out of the gallery and back to his guests.