“Was I not the one who was asked for help?”
“Not really. You just happened to be the one who opened the door.” Enid ignored Olympia’s scowl as she nudged her way past and headed toward the door. “I think you should at least let Lord Radmoor know that trouble is brewing.”
“If I can think of a way to do so without having him come racing to aid his friend, I will.”
“Fair enough. I have heard that the Earl of Fieldgate has become quite the libertine. While it may be true that he does not carry the taint such men as Minden do, the earl has reached that point where doors are being closed to him. There are some dark rumors about him beginning to make the rounds. That despite the fact that he is a young, somewhat wealthy bachelor, a few families already begin to protect their daughters from him. S’truth, the more I think on this, the more I think you should hand this trouble over to one of the men.”
“Nonsense,” snapped Olympia as she followed Enid out of the room. “I plan only to make the earl fully aware of the danger his sister is in.”
“And what if the earl does not care?”
Olympia did not wish to think on that. She had heard all about how Brant had been bowed from the weight of his grief when the body of his Faith had been found. Heartbreaking though that scene must have been she had seen good things in Mallam since then, things like tenderness and love, although both had begun to fade as time passed. She could not believe that a man who had suffered such a loss would now turn his back on his sister, would just walk away and allow his mother to destroy yet another member of his family as she had destroyed him.
Destroyed his life, she hastily corrected. Olympia refused to believe the man himself had been destroyed despite all the tales of drink and women. It was not unusual for a man who suffered heartbreak to try to bury the hurt beneath the numbing effects of wine and women. For some strange reason men appeared to think that would help. A battle with his mother over his sister’s happiness could even be the medicine the earl needed to pull himself free of the ills of a life of dissipation.
“He will help,” Olympia said and hurried to the library where she had left her writing materials. “This could be just what he needs to get himself back to what he was before he discovered just how evil his mother is.”
Enid put the tray of tea things down on a table in the hall and hurried after Olympia. “I do not like that look in your eye, missy.”
“Missy?” Olympia sat down at the desk and set her writing materials in order even as she thought about what to say in the letter she was about to write. “Where, oh where, is the respect I should command as a baroness?”
“It will return when you rid yourself of the thought of riding to this man’s rescue. He is a rogue, a libertine, a man who spends more time in the shadows of brothels and gambling dens than he does in the clean air of the country.”
“I believe he is, at this very moment, in the country,” Olympia said as she dipped her quill in the inkpot and began to write. “Breathing all that clear, country air.”
Olympia peeked at her companion and nearly grinned. Enid had her arms crossed over her chest and a scowl on her pretty round face. That disapproval could have something to do with the condition the earl had been in the last time they had glimpsed him. The man had tried to be all that was gentlemanly, bowing, and then helping her into her carriage outside the Benson home where she had attended a musicale. Unfortunately Fieldgate had been so drunk he had nearly fallen on his face while bowing to her and helping her into her carriage had been more akin to throwing her into her carriage where she had landed with her face in Enid’s lap.
Enid’s distaste for men who drank too much was fully understandable. The woman had grown up beneath the brutal hand of a father who had too often been drunk. But, at times, Enid could be a little too firm in her stance, a little too unforgiving. Olympia was not sure Fieldgate could be saved from his own follies with drink and women, but there was no harm in at least trying to drag him out of that pit.
“And I suspect he has just taken all the women and drink to a different place to enjoy them,” snapped Enid. “He is no longer the sort of man you should be acknowledging.”
“He is my nephew’s friend. Ashton’s oldest, closest friend. Fieldgate is almost family.” She held up her hand when Enid opened her mouth to say something. “No. I will contact him. I will be ready to help his sister. Alone if he chooses to turn his back on the girl, or at his side if he decides to do something himself. The important person in all of this is young Agatha, is it not?”