Caroline and Max regained the ballroom and both glanced around for their party. Almost immediately, Lizzie appeared by her sister’s side on the arm of one of her youthful swains. She prettily thanked him and dismissed him before turning to her sister and their guardian. “Sarah came back just after you left to look for her. She and Lady Benborough and Mrs. Alford have gone home.”
“Oh?” It was Max’s voice which answered her. “Why?”
Lizzie cast a questioning look at Caroline and received a nod in reply. “Sarah was upset about something.”
Max was already scanning the room when Lizzie’s voice reached him. “Lord Darcy came in a little while after Sarah. He’s left now, too.”
With a sigh, Max realized there was nothing more to be done that night. They collected Arabella and departed Overton House, Caroline silently considering Sarah’s problem and Max wondering if he was going to have to wait until his friend solved his dilemma before he would be free to settle his own affairs.
CHAPTER SIX
Max took a long sip of his brandy and savoured the smooth warmth as it slid down his throat. He stretched his legs to the fire. The book he had been trying to reach rested open, on his thighs, one strong hand holding it still. He moved his shoulders slightly, settling them into the comfort of well padded leather and let his head fall back against the chair.
It was the first night since the beginning of the Season that he had had a quiet evening at home. And he needed it. Who would have thought his four wards would make such a drastic change in a hitherto well-ordered existence? Then he remembered. He had. But he had not really believed his own dire predictions. And the only reason he was at home tonight was because Sarah, still affected by her brush with Darcy the night before, had elected to remain at home and Caroline had stayed with her. He deemed his aunt Augusta and Miriam Alford capable of chaperoning the two younger girls between them. After the previous night, it was unlikely they would allow any liberties.
Even now, no one had had an accounting of what had actually taken place between Darcy and Sarah. But, knowing Darcy, his imagination had supplied a quantity of detail. He had left Delmere House at noon that day with the full intention of running his lordship to earth and demanding an explanation. He had finally found him at Manton’s Shooting Gallery, culping wafer after wafer with grim precision. One look at his friend’s face had been enough to cool his temper. He had patiently waited until Darcy, having dispatched all the wafers currently in place, had thrown the pistol down with an oath and turned to him.
“Don’t ask!”
So he had preserved a discreet silence on the subject and together they had rolled about town, eventually ending in Cribb’s back parlour, drinking Blue Ruin. Only then
had Darcy reverted to the topic occupying both their minds. “I’m leaving town.”
“Oh?”
His lordship had run a hand through his perfectly cut golden locks, disarranging them completely, in a gesture Max had never, in all their years together, seen him use. “Going to Leicestershire. I need a holiday.”
Max had nodded enigmatically. Lord Darcy’s principal estates lay in Leicestershire and always, due to the large number of horses he raised, demanded attention. But in general, his lordship managed to run his business affairs quite comfortably from town.
“No, by God! I’ve got a better idea. I’ll go to Ireland. It’s further away.”
As Max knew, Lord Darcy’s brother resided on the family estates in Ireland. Still, he had said nothing, patiently waiting for what he had known would come.
Darcy had rolled his glass between his hands, studying the swirling liquid with apparent interest. “About Sarah.”
“Mmm?” Max had kept his own eyes firmly fixed on his glass.
“I didn’t.”
“Oh?”
“No. But I’m not entirely sure she knows what happened.” Darcy had drained his glass, using the opportunity to watch Max work this out.
Finally, comprehension had dawned. A glimmer of a smile had tugged at the corners of His Grace of Twyford’s mouth. “Oh.”
“Precisely. I thought I’d leave it in your capable hands.”
“Thank you!” Max had replied. Then he had groaned and dropped his head into his hands. “How the hell do you imagine I’m going to find out what she believes and then explain it to her if she’s wrong?” His mind had boggled at the awful idea.
“I thought you might work through Miss Twinning,” Darcy had returned, grinning for the first time that day.
Relieved to see his friend smile, even at his expense, Max had grinned back. “I’ve not been pushing the pace quite as hard as you. Miss Twinning and I have some way to go before we reach the point where such intimate discussion would be permissible.”
“Oh, well,” Darcy had sighed. “I only hope you have better luck than I.”
“Throwing in the towel?”
Darcy had shrugged. “I wish I knew.” A silence had ensued which Darcy eventually broke. “I’ve got to get away.”