TuesdayNights (7 page)

Chapter 8

Happy News on a Tuesday

May 3, 1814

A year later, during the Seward’s formal Sunday dinner, Arthur Seward announced he would be marrying Miss Penelope Winstead. The wedding ceremony, to be officiated by a bishop at St. George’s, was scheduled for mid-June in the hopes that most of the
ton
would still be in London to attend the event of the Season.

Edward heard the words and smiled. With any luck, Penelope would give birth to a boy within a year. Once he was free of his obligation to the Eversham earldom, Edward would propose to Anna, they would marry, and the two of them could finally live together in the townhouse in Bruton Street as man and wife. As he’d always imagined life with Anna.

“You look rather happy,” Michael remarked as he joined his friend in the library at Michael’s townhouse. He poured a bit of brandy into a balloon glass and leaned against the sideboard. “But not as happy as I am, I’ll wager,” he said as he held up his glass.

“I’ll take that bet,” Edward countered as he joined Michael at the sideboard, pouring himself a generous serving of brandy. “And raise you a hundred,” he added as he took a sip.

Stunned at his friend’s wager, Michael shook his head. “You know I’m not a betting man,” he replied then, wondering what had his friend so damned happy.

Michael had just returned from Sussex with news that the coal gas extraction device was working. Although it had taken nearly a year to acquire the necessary plans and parts to build it, and another month to get the thing working, it seemed worth the effort. The type of coal mined in Sussex was optimal for the extraction process, and the plant was set up near enough to a mine that transporting the coal to the device hadn’t been an issue. His banker, Arthur Huntington III, had been in attendance at the demonstration, as were Sir Richard and Harold Waterford.

And Olivia.

She had ridden in a barouche with her father, her excitement palpable when she greeted Michael and hurried to inspect the device. Her enthusiasm had been infectious, especially when she hurried back to her father’s barouche and returned with a bottle of champagne and glasses, insisting a toast was in order.

Michael complied, of course, acknowledging all those who had contributed to the device’s financing, building and operation. And when the spray of champagne doused his favorite topcoat, he didn’t mind a bit. Especially when Olivia’s upturned face displayed a pink blush at having been somewhat responsible for the cork popping a moment too soon.

He smiled as he remembered how that blush had deepened after he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

Or perhaps it had because Michael winked at her.

Olivia had winked right back, giving him a brilliant smile.

Edward snorted as he took his seat in his favorite chair. “And this from a man who has one of the oldest wagers on the books at White’s,” he challenged, giving Michael a shake of his head.

His face coloring up a bit, Michael regarded his friend with a sideways glance. “I was rather hoping that damned marriage bet had been forgotten,” he allowed; until Edward mentioned it that moment, he had forgotten it, after all.

After taking a sip of brandy, Edward shook his head. “Time only helps it take on a life of its own,” he countered with a hint of satisfaction.

Alarmed, Michael straightened. “What are you saying?”

Edward shrugged with one shoulder. “Let’s just say the bet is no longer just between you and Sir Richard. And the stakes are far greater. In
your
favor, should you marry before your twenty-eighth birthday.”

Sighing, Michael closed his eyes.
Damnation!
What if word of the bet got out beyond the members of White’s? He might be the laughingstock of the
ton
if the bet made the rounds of the gaming hells. Or not, as long as he kept his promise and married by next April.
I can do this,
he thought as he took another sip of his brandy.
Hell, I have to do this.

And then he remembered why his bet had become a topic of conversation. “What, pray tell, has
you
so happy?” he asked, glad to put the attention back on this friend. Never mind that he hadn’t been able to share the news of the success of the coal gas extraction device.

Smiling broadly, Edward stood up to make his announcement. “Arthur, my less than esteemed brother and future Earl of Eversham, has proposed. Lady Penelope said ‘yes’. And they’re to marry next month.”

Holding his breath for a moment, Michael found himself wondering why this particular bit of news would make his friend so happy.

When he didn’t respond right away, Edward held out a hand as if he couldn’t believe his friend’s bland expression. “My brother is getting married. If he gets a child on Penelope right away, and she has a son, then I’ll be free to marry Anna next year,” Edward explained quickly.

Edward had been so happy after Sunday’s dinner, he had gone directly to Anna’s townhouse and shared the news with her. Although her reaction hadn’t been quite as euphoric as Edward’s, she gave him a brilliant smile and kissed him quite thoroughly.

He was looking forward to another one of those when he paid her a call the next day.

“Congratulations,” Michael managed after a moment, allowing his friend a gracious smile. “I’m happy for you,” he added with a nod and a raised glass. “To you and Anna,” he said by way of a toast.

“To Anna,” Edward countered as he raised his own glass and finished off his brandy.

Chapter 9

A Relationship Ends on a Wednesday

May 4, 1814

Edward Seward tapped the roof of his coach with the top of his cane and within moments he was aware of the driver slowing and then parking the conveyance in Bruton Street. He took a deep breath and departed the vehicle, glancing about as if he was concerned about being seen. Hurrying to the townhouse he had let on Anna’s behalf two years ago, he paused when he noticed a child’s toy near one of the round bushes that flanked the front door. When he used the door knocker, there was a long wait before a young man opened the door just a crack. Startled, Edward glanced up at the transom to be sure he had the right house number.

“Sir?” the boy at the door said in a voice that confirmed he was much younger than Edward first thought. He was dressed in short pants, but seemed well groomed.

“Good day, my boy. I am looking for Miss Holdwalter,” Edward said, a feeling of panic gripping him. Why didn’t Anna open the door? And who was this boy?

The lad shook his head. “There’s no Anna here, sir,” the boy replied. “Used to be, I think, but she moved out so we could move here.”

Edward glanced up and down the street, giving half a thought to asking neighbors if they knew what had happened to her. “Do you know where she moved to?” he asked hopefully. But the boy’s shaking head confirmed what he feared.

“How long ago?” Edward wondered, his heart racing.
My God! How had she managed to move out so quickly?
He had just been here Sunday night to give her the news about this brother.

Then he remembered the house had been let with all its furnishings. Anna had little besides her clothes and a few sundries. If she had to leave in a hurry, she could do so.

She had
done
so.

But, why?

A myriad of thoughts flew through Edward’s mind. Had something happened with her position at the modiste’s? Had she been let go? Had something happened to her father?

Shrugging, the boy turned his head, as if his name had been called by someone in the house. “I have to eat now,” the boy said and moved to shut the door.

“Thank you, my boy. Sorry for having bothered you,” Edward said before he placed his beaver atop his head and hurried back to the coach.

Edward was forced to take a deep breath and then another before he opened the coach door. Taking a seat inside, he sat still for several minutes, wondering what might have happened. Why had Anna taken her leave of the house? The lease was about to expire, but he had every intention of renewing it.

Or had the landlord asked her to move out?

The landlord!
Certainly the man would know where she had gone. Probably her father’s apartment above his shop, Edward realized then. The realtor was on the way to the tailor’s shop, though. He tapped his cane on the ceiling, prompting the driver to open the trap door. “Yes, my lord?” the man wondered as he stared down.

“Oxford Street. Mr. Townsend’s office at number thirty,” Edward spoke, hoping the man had a forwarding address for Anna. If he didn’t, they would drive on to Mr. Holdwalter’s shop. And if Justin didn’t know where his daughter was ...

But Edward couldn’t think about that. The love of his life had to be somewhere. She couldn’t have gone far. Now that his brother was about to marry, it wouldn’t be long before he could marry her without reprisals from his father. His mother would no doubt disown him, but he couldn’t think about her reprisals right now. He had to find Anna.

Townsend had no word on Anna’s whereabouts, claiming she had left the townhouse in impeccable condition and returned the key to his office the day before. “A rather desirable tenant,” the portly man commented, giving Edward a look through a pair of opera glasses that hung from a chain around his neck. “No complaints from her or her neighbors,” he commented lightly. “But she left no information as to where she was headed.”

Of course not,
Edward thought sadly. And when he arrived at Justin Holdwalter’s shop, he found a team of tailors cutting and stitching fabric, but no sign of the man whose name was painted on the shingle above the door.

“He is paying a call on Lord Everly at the earl’s request,” one of the young men explained when Edward asked.

Edward considered this bit of news. He supposed a tailor would make a house call given how much he could earn. He knew Lord Everly, an explorer and scientist, had just returned from an extended trip to somewhere on the African continent.
He probably needs new clothes,
Edward figured. “Is his older daughter in residence?” he asked then, knowing his query would be met with curious glances. He wasn’t expecting heads to shake.

“She is not here,” the oldest man answered. “I do not believe Mr. Holdwalter could accommodate another of his children if she did return, though,” he said
sotto voce
, leaning toward Edward so that none of the other tailors heard his comment.

Edward frowned, his eyebrows coming together. “Why is that?” Anna didn’t have
that
many brothers and sisters.

“One of the daughters has had another set of twins,” the tailor whispered, “And the father has fled.”

Another set of twins?
Edward held his breath a moment, wondering which daughter had been breeding. Shaking his head, Edward thanked the man and took his leave of the shop.

He could visit every single modiste in London, he considered for a moment. He might have to if he really wanted to find her.

What has become of my Anna?

When Edward finally returned to Michael’s townhouse, Jeffers, the butler, greeted him at the front door. “Good evening, Mr. Seward,” he said as he took Edward’s coat and hat. “Your correspondence is in the library.”

Correspondence!

Edward rushed to the library, turning in a complete circle until he spotted the silver salver littered with a collection of notes. Rifling through each one, he paused when he spotted Anna’s elegant script. His heart in his throat, he broke the plain wax seal and unfolded the letter.

My dearest Edward, My heart is heavy as I write what I must. Despite your happiness at your brother’s impending nuptials and assurances that we will marry once an heir is born, I have known for some time that you will never be allowed to marry a woman such as me. You are an earl’s son. You will always be an earl’s son. As such, you are obliged to marry a peer.

I will always love you. You have been my very best friend, and I, yours. As such, I find it is I who must be the one to end our affaire.

Do not despair. I am employed. I have a room. Someday, perhaps we will see one another, when you are with a wife and your children in a park or in a street. I promise I will acknowledge you and hope you will do the same with me. Until then, be well. Very sincerely yours, Anna.

Edward reread the missive twice before finally taking a deep breath.
How could she think I would marry someone else?
He left the library as if in a trance.
How could she just ... leave?

Truth be told, he had known for years that this could happen. But
he
was the one who thought he would have to tell Anna he couldn’t marry her. Even if he was forced to marry someone else – a thought that nearly made him sick to his stomach – he never imagined they wouldn’t be
together
.

He thought of Michael just then, of how a lowly viscount’s son had decided long ago that there might not be money for an inheritance, might not be funds for the everyday cost of living, and so he had gone into business to make his own way in the world. And the man seemed to have the head for it, spending hours doing research and writing letters and traveling to learn more about whatever it was he did to earn his blunt.

Edward thought of what he might do if Anna wasn’t in his life. His studies at Oxford had been in antiquities, a field he thought he might one day pursue by traveling to countries like Greece and Italy and Egypt. But he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Anna again, and so he had remained in England. And it wasn’t as if he could earn a living studying pottery shards or unearthing ancient relics. In fact, the expeditions were usually quite costly given laborers had to be paid and provisions had to be secured for treks into territories where supplies weren’t readily available. Would his father agree to fund such expeditions?

Fighting back tears, Edward took his overcoat and hat from Jeffers. He walked the entire distance to Eversham House, hoping to clear his head and, in the process, come up with a plan of how he might find Anna. And then, once he found her, he’d have to convince her she had to stay in his life.