Once there, however, Lisa paused briefly to lean against the door, her eyes closing. She should want to cry. She should want to scream and throw something. She knew with some part of her brain that she really did want to, but the brief, sharp pang of fury and disappointment that had managed to pierce the numbness claiming her had already receded and become a faint memory. She couldn’t seem to feel anything again. All she seemed to want to do was lie down.

Pushing herself away from the door, she crossed the room in what she suspected was an unsteady gait and then simply collapsed on the bed.

Robert started to follow Lisa, but stopped after just a couple of steps and waited uncertainly. If her arrival was witnessed, his presence might just cause more trouble. Hell, if Richard had returned by now and witnessed her arrival and her state of dress—or undress as the case may be—he’d come out and demand an explanation. However, if she got in without being seen, his approaching the door might draw attention to her arrival and her state.

He hesitated, unsure what to do, but after several moments passed without anyone coming out after him, Robert turned and got back in the carriage, then tapped on the wall to let his driver know to continue. He would return home and send Bet back to help her mistress. Lisa hadn’t been in the best shape and could no doubt use assistance getting out of that gauzy creation laughingly called a gown.

Then he’d take himself down to Mrs. Morgan’s and release some of the frustration now filling him by raising a little hell. By the time he finished with her, the woman wouldn’t ever again think of mixing herself up in anything like this and he’d know exactly who this “suitor” was . . . And then he’d pay that bastard a visit too.

“Miss.”

Lisa stirred sleepily and opened one eye to peer at the woman leaning over her. Bet. Pushing the other eye open, she smiled at her a bit woozily. “Oh, good. You’re okay.”

“Aye. Thank goodness you are too,” Bet said, settling on the side of the bed with a crooked smile. “I was ever so worried until Lord Langley returned and said he’d got you safely away.”

Lisa grimaced at the name and then closed her eyes on a muttered, “Horrid man.”

“Horrid man?” Bet asked with confusion. “Did you meet the suitor then? Lord Langley said he got you out in time.”

“Not the suitor,” she growled. “Robert.”

“Oh.” There was a pause and then Bet asked uncertainly, “Did he behave inappropriately?”

“No . . . the deuced fellow was as proper as could be,” she growled with exasperation and then rolled onto her back with an unhappy sigh. “I told him I love him, Bet, but he said flat out that he thinks of me as a little sister.”