The Dark Earl (47 page)
“Very good, Lady Harry. Have a nice meeting.”
At Pall Mall she hailed a hackney. “Shepherd Market, please.” She saw that the traffic was busy. She sat back against the squabs and folded her hands. Harry dreaded what lay ahead. She was in no great hurry to arrive at her destination. From Piccadilly, the driver turned into White Horse Street and stopped at the corner of Shepherd Market.
She stepped out of the carriage and paid the driver. Then with measured but determined steps, she walked past the apothecary shop and stopped before the house farther down the street. She approached the door and hesitated. She still had the hard knot in her belly, but now, in addition, her heart was fluttering like a wild bird trying to escape from its cage.
She straightened her shoulders, took a deep breath, and raised her hand to the knocker.
There’s no one home. I should leave.
But she forced herself to stand there stoically until the door swung open.
There’s no one home. I should leave.
But she forced herself to stand there stoically until the door swung open.
The woman’s eyes widened. “Lady Lichfield!”
You know who I am.
She stared at the beautiful female in the elegant gown, whose blond hair was fashioned into a smooth chignon. “Your name is Solange, I believe.”
She stared at the beautiful female in the elegant gown, whose blond hair was fashioned into a smooth chignon. “Your name is Solange, I believe.”
“Yes, I am Solange.” After a moment she said, “Won’t you come in?”
Harry stepped over the threshold, and followed the woman. The house was narrow, the stairs steep, but the drawing room was furnished in good taste. She ignored the chair she was offered and remained standing. “What is your relationship with my husband?”
“We are associates.”
“What sort of associates?”
“Lord Lichfield and I are partners—business partners.”
“What sort of business?”
Solange stiffened. “I suggest you ask your husband, my lady.”
And I suggest you are my husband’s mistress.
Harry pressed her lips together, before she blurted the accusation. “My husband’s attorney, Simon Kendall, renewed the lease on this house. Why would Thomas pay your lease?”
Harry pressed her lips together, before she blurted the accusation. “My husband’s attorney, Simon Kendall, renewed the lease on this house. Why would Thomas pay your lease?”
“I assure you that I pay my own lease, Lady Lichfield. Your husband had his attorney handle it as a courtesy.”
Harry saw that the woman was offended at the suggestion that Thomas paid her lease.
Either you are telling me the truth or you are a good actress.
She remembered that the Duke of Marlborough said he had given Solange a price for the centaurs.
Either you are telling me the truth or you are a good actress.
She remembered that the Duke of Marlborough said he had given Solange a price for the centaurs.
“It is no secret that my husband has been trying to restore Shugborough’s furniture and artifacts for some time. Am I to understand you help him in this by acting as go-between to negotiate a price?”
Please, please, let this be the nature of your relationship.
Please, please, let this be the nature of your relationship.
“I do act in that capacity sometimes.” Solange raised her chin. “If you have any more questions regarding your husband’s affairs, I respectfully suggest that you ask
him
, Lady Lichfield.”
him
, Lady Lichfield.”
Harry knew she would get no more out of her. Solange was both discreet and loyal.
Harry inclined her head gracefully. “I bid you good afternoon.”
When she got outside, the light was already leaving the sky, and she knew it must be past five o’clock. As she walked toward the apothecary shop, her thoughts were in turmoil.
It was Friday night that he picked her up in his carriage. Thomas always goes out on Friday, and gets home very late.
The thought that he spent every Friday night with Solange was hard to bear.
Will he call for her tonight?
It was Friday night that he picked her up in his carriage. Thomas always goes out on Friday, and gets home very late.
The thought that he spent every Friday night with Solange was hard to bear.
Will he call for her tonight?
Harry went into the apothecary shop and pretended a great interest in the bottles and jars displayed on the shelves that held herbs, roots, seeds, powders, and electuaries. She kept glancing through the shop window, dreading yet expecting to see a coach.
After dawdling for a half hour, she realized she must buy something and approached the man behind the counter. “Last time I was here, you were kind enough to recommend a cure for morning sickness. I’ve quite forgotten what it was.”
“I remember you, my lady. There’s nothing better for nausea than powdered bistort and mint. It must have done the trick, if you are back for more.”
Harry glanced through the window and drew in a swift breath as she saw Solange walk past the shop. She turned back to the apothecary. “Yes, yes, that’s the stuff.”
She watched as he carefully measured out the bistort; then he crushed some dried mint leaves, mixed them together, and handed her the package.
“The dose is a half teaspoon.”
“Thank you so much.” She paid him and left the shop, determined to follow Solange. The woman was nowhere in sight, and Harry knew she must have turned the corner onto Curzon Street. She reached the corner in time to see her turn onto the next street. Harry walked slowly; she didn’t want Solange to know she was following her.
It was getting dark, and when she reached the next street, she peered quickly along the pavement to make sure she could still see her. Harry glanced up to read the name of the street.
Half Moon Street.
Half Moon Street.
She stopped as memories came flooding back to her.
The last time I was on this street, I was with Rachel and the Montagu brothers.
Suddenly Harry began to suspect where Solange was going. She peered down the street but could no longer see her. As if being drawn against her will, Harry put one foot in front of the other, until she was standing before Hazard House.
The last time I was on this street, I was with Rachel and the Montagu brothers.
Suddenly Harry began to suspect where Solange was going. She peered down the street but could no longer see her. As if being drawn against her will, Harry put one foot in front of the other, until she was standing before Hazard House.
She gazed up at the dark facade, indistinguishable from its neighbors. The exact same thought she’d had last time she was here ran through her head:
It looks like a respectable home, not a gaming hell.
It looks like a respectable home, not a gaming hell.
She stood for a long time as if she was dazed.
This cannot be where they meet.
Her mind flatly denied that such a thing was possible.
This cannot be where they meet.
Her mind flatly denied that such a thing was possible.
A carriage stopped and two men got out. Harry was completely oblivious until one of them spoke to her.
“It looks closed, but it’s past opening time. Are you coming in, my dear?”
She did not reply, but when they opened the door and walked inside, she slowly followed. The men put something in the porter’s hand, and he welcomed all three of them with a bow.
She hung back until the men went upstairs before she slowly followed. The gaming rooms were brilliantly lit, but due to the early hour, there were few customers about. As if she were in a trance, Harry walked through the rooms. She moved past the one with the roulette wheel and dice table, and entered the cardroom where Montagu had played faro.
She stared at the staircase at the end of the room, and she heard the echo of Will Montagu’s words:
I’ve seen his ravishing female partner who runs the place. Her fatal beauty lures men to wager deep.
Harry knew it was a perfect description of Solange.
I’ve seen his ravishing female partner who runs the place. Her fatal beauty lures men to wager deep.
Harry knew it was a perfect description of Solange.
As she moved inexorably toward the staircase, her mind screamed its denial.
The owner has a rather black reputation.
She recoiled from her dark thoughts.
It cannot be. It must not be. It is unthinkable.
The owner has a rather black reputation.
She recoiled from her dark thoughts.
It cannot be. It must not be. It is unthinkable.
She stood there, as fear warred with courage.
I refuse to be a coward.
She raised her hand, rapped sharply on the door, and waited.
I refuse to be a coward.
She raised her hand, rapped sharply on the door, and waited.
Solange opened the door, and the two females stared at each other. After a long hesitation, Solange moved aside.
Harry stepped over the threshold, and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end as she stared with incredulity at the scene before her. The Duke of Marlborough sat at a gaming table. She saw Thomas jump to his feet when she entered the room, and she watched the card he had taken from the dealing box flutter to the floor.
“Harriet! What the hellfire are you doing here?” He came toward her.
She put up both hands to stay him. “Don’t come any closer!”
He stopped and stared at her with dark, burning eyes.
She shook her head in disbelief. “I don’t even know you.”
Harry jumped out of the hackney cab in St. James’s Square. “Wait for me,” she instructed the driver. The front door banged closed behind her as Norton hurried to see who had arrived. “I need your help.” She rushed up the stairs and called, “Rose, Rose, where are you?”
By the time Norton and Rose followed her into the bedchamber, Harry was in her dressing room, filling her half-packed trunk with clothes.
“Rose, are you packed and ready to go?”
“Yes, Lady Harry.”
“Good. We are leaving.” She spoke to Norton. “Take this trunk to the carriage outside, and then come back for Rose’s luggage.”
“Are we going to Shugborough tonight?” Rose asked in amazement.
“No, we are going to Hampden House. Get your coat.”
Harry hurried down the stairs to the front door, with Rose following breathlessly.
When Harry got outside, she was livid to see her husband’s coach pull up. Norton moved toward Thomas’s carriage with her trunk.
“Not in there, you idiot! Put it in the hackney.”
Thomas jumped from his carriage. “Harry, stop this!”
She looked through him as if he were invisible. “Rose, get in the cab. Norton, go up and fetch Rose’s luggage.” She spoke to the driver, who was looking most skeptical. “We are going to 61 Green Street.”
Thomas took firm hold of the horse’s bridle. “You are going nowhere. Get back in the house.”
Harry reached up and grabbed the driver’s whip from its holder. She brought her arm down with a wild flourish, and the whipcrack made the horse rear its head in fear.
Thomas had his hands full, calming the horse, as Norton emerged with the luggage.
Harry grabbed the bag from him, thrust the whip into his hand, climbed into the cab, and banged the door shut.
Norton handed the whip back to the driver, who spoke to Thomas. “Kindly stand aside, yer lordship.”
As Thomas loosened his grip on the horse’s bridle, he was filled with impotent fury.
“Go and be damned to you!”
Chapter Twenty-five
“W
e need some help with our luggage, Hobson,” Harry told the Hampden House footman when he opened the door.
e need some help with our luggage, Hobson,” Harry told the Hampden House footman when he opened the door.
Hobson hauled in the heavy trunk. “How long will you be staying, Lady Harry?”
“Indefinitely. You can get Rose’s bag. She’ll be staying indefinitely too.”
Harry removed her cloak and made her way to the kitchen, where she found Mrs. Foster, the housekeeper, and Mrs. Gilbert, the cook, entertaining Riley. “Since I’m back to stay, I’d like a front-door key, Mrs. Foster.”
The two female servants exchanged a speaking glance before the housekeeper took a key off her ring and presented it to Harry.
“I brought Rose with me, so she’ll need her old room back.” Harry glanced at Riley. “I’m surprised they didn’t take you to Ireland with them.”
“Lord and Lady Abercorn trusted their persons to the Great Western Railway line that runs from London to Bristol. They had no need of me this time.”
“Well, I have need of you, Riley. It will be most convenient to have my own carriage and driver, after being transported in shabby hackney cabs by cockeyed drivers.”
The footman came to the kitchen door. “Pardon, Lady Harry, but will the Earl of Lichfield be joining you?”
“No, Hobson, he will not. And if he has the bloody effrontery to show his face, you will inform him that I am not receiving.” She glanced at the footman and, in spite of the width of his shoulders, gravely doubted he could keep Thomas Anson at bay.
Harry filled the kettle and swung it over the kitchen fire to boil. “Since our beds haven’t been slept in for some time, Rose and I will need hot-water bottles.” She sniffed the air with appreciation. “Something smells good. I’ve had no lunch or supper, so you can rustle me up some grub, Mrs. Gilbert.”
A half hour later, Harry sat at the kitchen table finishing off a hearty portion of steak and kidney pie. She hoped the hot food would help to fill the gaping, empty void inside her. When Mrs. Gilbert poured her a cup of tea, Harry turned to Riley. “I warrant it would go down better with a dollop of fine Irish whiskey in it.”
Riley grinned and reached for his flask. “A nod’s as good as a wink to a blind horse.”
When Harry retired to the bedroom she had shared with her sisters, her cheeky bravado fell away. She shoved the stone hot-water bottles between the sheets of two beds. “You might as well stay in here with me tonight.” Then she helped Rose finish unpacking her trunk and hung her clothes in the wardrobe.
When she got into bed, Harry resolved that she would not weep and wail and gnash her teeth. Nor would she cry softly into her pillow. Though the revelation about Thomas had stunned her, she adamantly refused to feel sorry for herself. She knew that the anger that had begun to simmer inside her would banish all self-pity. She was furious that this wasn’t the first breach of trust in their relationship. After the misunderstanding about his father’s will, they had agreed there would be no more secrets between them.
How could Thomas do this?
How could Thomas do this?
Other books
With Love by Shawnté Borris
You Lucky Dog by Matt Christopher, Stephanie Peters, Daniel Vasconcellos
Ridin' Red by Nikki Prince
Don't Mess With Earth by Cliff Ball
Cold City (Repairman Jack - the Early Years Trilogy) by Wilson, F. Paul
The Lost Treasure of the Knights Templar by Steven Sora
Diary by Chuck Palahniuk
Body Dump by Fred Rosen
Lover Mine by Ward, J.R.
Othersphere by Nina Berry
