“I should not like to leave you with the impression that I was foxed,” he said, getting directly to the point as he finally handed Honora her cup of tea with only a mere flick of his eyes in her direction. “That was not the case.”
Lady Langdon threw a quick, unimpressed glance towards Honora but Honora nodded, choosing to believe his words to be true, despite her aunt’s obvious disbelief.
“I see,” Lady Langdon replied, a wryness in her tone which could not be hidden from Lord Crampton himself. “Then I do hope that you are recovered from whatever malady it was that overtook you.”
Lord Crampton’s brows drew together, and Honora caught the flash of anger in his eyes. It was clear to him that her aunt did not believe him and that was causing him great upset. Honora tilted her head, looking back at Lord Crampton steadily, and waited until he finally caught her gaze before she spoke, pushing her own embarrassment away and praying that he would be willing to speak to her despite her previous sharpness.
“Might I ask what took place, Lord Crampton?” she asked, seeing him nod as the shards in his eyes began to melt away. Was there a look of appreciation, of gratitude, in his face now? “Did you injure yourself?”
“I was pushed.”
Honora’s eyes flared wide in bewilderment as she looked back at him, seeing the steadiness in his gaze and the way his jaw worked for a few moments.
“You were pushed?” Lady Langdon repeated, sounding entirely unbelieving, but Lord Crampton did not so much as look at her but rather held Honora’s gaze instead. It was as if he were grateful to her for her questions, for her trust that he spoke the truth.
“My coachman was, it seemed, asleep. When he would not waken, I was forced to climb up to the box in an attempt to rouse him. When I managed to reach him, an unseen foe pushed me backward. That was the reason for my seeming lack of conversation – not through drunkenness but rather through naught more than a great deal of pain and a struggle against unconsciousness.” Honora blinked rapidly, trying to sort through the surprise and shock which rippled through her. She knew that her aunt would not give even the smallest credence to Lord Crampton’s explanation, but that could not be said of her. There was something about such an explanation – as ridiculous as it sounded – that, to her mind, held the truth. Lord Crampton’s gaze returned to her aunt. “I do not know who the perpetrator was but wanted to express my gratitude to you for your help, as well as to make certain that you did not think too ill of me.”
“I have no intention of telling any other about what we witnessed last evening, Lord Crampton,” Lady Langdon said clearly, setting down her teacup and raising her chin just a fraction so that she looked a little more down her nose towards him. “That is not the sort of lady I am, nor the sort of young lady my niece has been raised to be. Whatever took place last evening, we are both very glad that you are not terribly injured, and we do hope that your recovery comes to its end very quickly indeed.” Honora noted that her aunt had begun that particular statement by referring only to herself but had then gone on to include Honora. A small sense of relief and gladness lifted her heart and, again, Lady Albina’s suggestion came to her mind. “And now we must take our leave.”
This was the end of their conversation and their time with Lord Crampton but, as her aunt rose, Honora was surprised at the surge of eagerness to either remain in his company or continue speaking with him. After her own foolishness in refusing to pour the tea, she now considered that there was more to Lord Crampton’s character than she had first believed. Her first impression of him had been of an arrogant, selfish gentleman who cared naught for anyone but himself – and whilst there was some truth in that, for certainly hewasarrogant and eager to impress, Honora was beginning to discover an eagerness to know him a little better.
“We should not want to weary you, since you are still to recover fully,” her aunt finished, as Honora reluctantly rose to her feet, disappointed that they were to take their leave. “Good afternoon.”
Honora bobbed a curtsey, lowering her gaze and choosing not to give him so much as another glance, for fear that he might see the disappointment in her eyes, before turning on her heel and following after her aunt. The door was opened for them by a footman who was, it seemed, clearly able to hear all that was going on within the drawing-room and had been able to open the door promptly, and Honora was just about to make her way through it, when she heard Lord Crampton speak.
“You are upset with me, I think.”
Honora stopped short, seeing her aunt sailing out of the room but finding that she could not take another step without speaking openly to Lord Crampton.
That trait of speaking bluntly and honestly in her interactions came again to the fore and she turned back towards him, a dull heat burning in her cheeks.
“Indeed, Lord Crampton, you are quite perceptive” she replied, seeing the way his eyes flickered. “I was a little upset over your request to pour the tea, but I realize now that I was mistaken to feel so affronted.”
“I did not mean to upset you.” His voice was low, and he dropped his head, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. “It was not because I thought to dismiss you.” Her stomach tightened and she pressed her lips tightly together, the silence becoming heavy between them. “I must hope that you also will not speak to any other about what you witnessed.”
Her eyes shot to his, a tension beginning to radiate through her frame.
“I beg your pardon?”
Has he stopped me only to make certain that his standing in society will not be tainted?
“It is discretion I seek.”
Her eyes closed and a jolt of anger pinned her in place, her jaw tightening.
“Miss Gregory?”
Honora shook her head, frustrated that he had seemingly no awareness of his behavior and how his words had affected her.
“I pray that reason was not your main purpose in calling us here, Lord Crampton?”
“I do not know what you mean.”
“Yes, you do,” Honora shot back, her hands tightening into fists as she fought to control her sudden burst of anger. “You have asked us here to thank us, of course, but you also fear that your standing in society could be damaged, should either my aunt or I speak of what we saw, is that not so?”
He shrugged one shoulder.
“I wanted to make certain that the truth was known to you both, although of course, that was not my main reason for requesting your company.”