amusement as the dowager preened at how quickly he’d agreed with her. “I will see to it that she’s kept safe.”
“But how?” the dowager demanded, her pleasure turning to annoyance.
“Yes, Archer,” Con said with a suspiciously innocent expression. “How?”
“I cannot tell you,” Archer said with asperity. “Otherwise whoever wishes her harm might learn the details. It is too delicate a situation for me to give all the details away.”
He was precluded from saying anything more by a knock on the drawing room door and the appearance of the dowager’s maid, Simmons.
“I beg your pardon, Your Graces, my lords, my lady,” she said to the assembled company, “but, Duchess, we must return to the dower house before Dr. Johnson arrives.”
The mulish set of the dowager’s jaw told Archer that she was not pleased at the interruption, but after some silent communication passed between the two women, the older woman sagged a little. “I suppose I must be off,” she said to the others. “But I expect you,” she said, nodding toward Archer, “to keep me apprised of developments on the matter we discussed.”
Archer bowed to acknowledge the order and the dowager seemed to relax a bit. Allowing Simmons to assist her to stand, she left the room, leaving nothing but silence in her wake.
“Well,” Isabella said finally, “that was pleasant.”
The laughter that followed burst the bubble of tension Archer hadn’t even realized had enveloped them all.
But the light mood couldn’t last. Almost apologetically, Isabella turned to Archer, her brows knitted with worry. “Now that Godmama is gone, you must tell us the truth about how my sister fares.”
Five
“I would have gone up first thing but I was told she was sleeping,” Isabella continued. “And then Godmama arrived and there was no question of leaving you to her tender mercies.”
Archer took the glass of brandy Ormond offered him and lowered his tall frame into the nearest chair. “She is sleeping. Not by choice, though. It just sort of overtook her while we were talking.”
“Poor thing,” Georgina said, taking her husband’s hand. “Rest is probably the best for her, however much she might wish to resist it.”
“Any news on the attacker?” Ormond had remained standing behind Isabella’s chair. His normally pleasant expression had been replaced by one of determination. He’d gone through something similar with Isabella at his country house and knew how dangerous this person could be. “I stopped by the magistrate’s office on our way here. The authorities need to be brought in on this as quickly as possible.”
“Thank you.” Archer rubbed his hands over his face. It was not quite six in the evening but he felt as if it should be midnight given all that had happened. “I doubt Perdita will appreciate it, but I think it’s a good idea to have a proper investigation into this matter. I plan on doing my best to hunt down the bastard, too, but there is no harm in asking for help. Especially when the attack took place in the park. Though his focus seemed to be on Perdita, he might have harmed others in his determination to harm her.”
“Well, she will simply have to accept it.” Isabella’s mouth pursed. “My sister is the most stubborn person I’ve ever known, but in this case, she is overruled. Anything that will keep her safe is perfectly acceptable to me.”
“She won’t like it one bit.” Georgina, who had faced her own terror in Bath earlier in the year, looked worried on her friend’s behalf. “Perdita might be stubborn but I think she’ll see reason once we explain the situation to her. I certainly don’t believe she will wish to put others in harm’s way by continuing to move about freely in town without proper protection.”
Archer sighed. “I thought that’s what I was supposed to be this morning. But you see how well that worked out.”
“You weren’t expecting something like that,” Ormond
Learning to Kill: Stories