Adele Paulson could not possibly endure the stuffy air in the Sweeney house for another moment. The old countess did not like open windows and was convinced the London air was responsible for her current poor health. Adele thought that was likely true, although she thought the next reasonable question was why the countess persisted in staying in London when her country house had much better air.
Adele walked out the front door with Wilton, the butler, on her heels.
"I just need a moment, Wilton," Adele insisted.
"Yes, Lady Adele, but the neighborhood is not safe for a young lady at this time of night."
"I do not intend to go far. I want some fresh air is all."
Wilton retreated but took up a post at the front door with his arms crossed, clearly determined not to let Adele out of his sight.
The countess's house was modest, a bit of a distance from fashionable Mayfair. The house did have a little backyard garden, but the last time Adele had walked there after dark, the gardener accused her of stomping on the flowerbeds. This was an unfair charge, and Adele was pretty sure Cook's dog had been responsible for ruining the flowerbeds, but she'd had no proof. Thus she avoided the garden at night.
Ever since reading a translation of the stories of the Brothers Grimm, she'd been fancying herself as a bit of a Cinderella, responsible for much of the household work and often the scapegoat for anything wrong in the house. Although in Adele's case, there was no handsome prince, she wasn't related to the family that persecuted her, and she was being paid for these indignities. Still, if Adele sought fresh air out front instead of in the tiny backyard garden, no one could accuse her of having nefarious plans for the backyard flora.
The countess had been trying Adele's patience lately. She'd grown forgetful, which seemed to anger her, and she took out the bulk of that anger on Adele. Adele tried not to take that personally and understood the countess's anger was borne of her frustration over her failing health, but Adele was tired of insisting that she was only trying to help.
She sighed and leaned against a lamppost. Not for the first time, she thought about how this was not the life she imagined for herself. Five years ago, she'd been engaged to Geoffrey MacDowell, Lord Paisley, heir to titles and property in England and Scotland. She'd loved him deeply and had her whole future planned. They would split their time between London, his country manor in Kent, and the grand estate in Scotland; they'd have three or four children; and Adele would have time to pursue things like gardening or painting, perhaps, and they'd be happy.
Geoffrey had never told her he'd been sick. And the Lord took him two weeks before their wedding.
Adele's devastation at the loss had kept her away from London for a season, and by the time she returned at the ripe old age of twenty-two, it seemed she was already on the shelf. No eligible man would send a second glance her way, not when there were so many new, young debutantes on the scene.
So what good was an earl's daughter so long on the shelf? Her father had been a close friend to the late Earl of Sweeney—the present earl was only a few years older than Adele and preferred the country to London—so here Adele was, the Dowager Countess of Sweeney's paid companion.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then pushed off the lamppost, reluctantly taking a step back toward the house. She heard a noise and turned around, watching as a large carriage rumbled up the street. A door opened and someone inside tossed something at the sidewalk a few feet from where Adele stood. Then the carriage sped away before Adele could finish yelling about the man discarding his rubbish in the street. She glanced at the bundle and was content to leave it… until it moved.
Adele exchanged a glance with Wilton, who walked with her to the bundle. A long sheet of muslin or some other fabric was wrapped around what Adele assumed at first must have been a dog. But if that were the case, it was a huge dog. And then the bundle moaned.
Wilton stepped forward and lifted the edge of the fabric. There was a man. Adele did not recognize him and assumed he was not one of her neighbors. He was too well-dressed for the neighborhood, at any rate. He looked like he'd just come from a ball. He was tall and young, Adele thought, though his clothes were rumpled and there was a trickle of blood on his forehead.
"Do you know him?" Wilton asked.
"No, but I assume he is nobility of some sort, given his dress."
When the man moaned again, Adele said, "Sir? Who are you? What is your name?"
Then his whole body went slack.
Wilton touched his neck. "He's alive, but I believe he's passed out."
"We must get him inside."
"Are you sure?"
"We can't leave him on the street. We'll put him in the green bedroom, and I will tend to him."
"That is quite improper, my lady. Cook and I can see to his wounds. Young master John was quite the young hellion and was forever getting into scraps, so we have some experience with patching up cuts and bruises. Perhaps he will recover his senses by the morning and you and the countess can escort him home."
"Do you think he may need further medical attention?"
"Doctor Willis is scheduled to come to the house to attend to the countess on the morrow. We'll have him look after our young man. In the meantime, I will need your assistance, at least to get him to the threshold of the house. Can you carry his feet?"
Together, Wilton and Adele managed to get the man to the door. Wilton asked Adele to go in and fetch one of the footmen. Ten minutes later, the man was fast asleep in the green bedroom, the only bedroom in the small house not presently spoken for. Adele stood at the door and watched him for a long moment, and now that he was in a room with better lighting, she thought him vaguely familiar, but perhaps that was just the trappings of wealth. She'd traveled in the same circles as this man once, she knew that much, but she could not identify him.
Wilton returned with Cook, who nudged her out of the way. "Get some sleep, Lady Adele. He will still be here in the morning for you to fret over."
Adele nodded. She gave the mysterious man one last, long look and then went to her room.