Will could bask all evening in the glow of that smile. He sat.
Lists were of no interest to him. But he ate, let them chatter, and just drank in the enchantment of the lady’s excitement. In her home, she had always appeared aloof, as if she existed on a higher plane above mere mortals. He now knew that had something to do with her weird hearing. Apparently her lists and his presence distracted her enough from the inn’s noise that she could be herself. And that self was a lively mix of laughter, mysterious smiles, and a rather wicked hint of humor.
“Mr. Ives-Madden, are you listening at all?” she asked as the servants cleared away the main course and delivered apples and cheese. “Does my hearing come at the cost of yours?”
He peeled an apple, sliced it, and handed her a segment. “I’ll listen when you have something to say that I need to hear.”
She perched there, a glistening golden bird on a bough far from his reach, but bearing the audacity of a hawk. With nonchalance, she addressed the powerful marquess who made Parliament thunder and grown men quake. “I know your brother is the son of a marquess and was raised to be a gentleman, but he’s lived too long with his hounds. May I have your permission to swat him when he misbehaves?”
Lady Ashford choked on her apple, but Will’s lordly half-brother merely sat back and grinned. “I’ll give you the switch, shall I?”
“And I shall call him Will, because it is much too difficult to catch the attention of a hound if one uses his full designation.” She bit delicately into the apple and regarded him over the table through laughing blue eyes.
Will wasn’t much at flirting. He’d tried a time or two in his wayward youth, but he’d found it was just as easy to give women a smoldering look and let them do the talking. This lady didn’t seem interested in smoldering looks or poetry or flattery, which was fine with him. So what the hell did she want?
“Does that mean I should call you Lela?” he asked warily. “Because you don’t hear the full title?”
“He barks! I like it. Yes, please, call me Lela.” She pushed a neatly scripted list at him. “This is all the information we have on Bess and her attacker. Can you add anything we’ve forgotten? Did Farmer Brown or the kidnappers give you any further description of Crockett?”
Will’s gut clenched as he glanced down at the gibberish she shoved at him. If he concentrated hard enough, he could probably unweave the letters and make some sense of them, but handwriting was even worse than books. So he just followed her spoken lead. “They both said much the same. He’s a tall man, lean, rangy, raw-boned, dark hair, wore expensive boots but didn’t look or speak like a gentleman. I doubt he’s one of your suitors.”
Lady Aurelia—Lela, Will savored the name—took the list back and jotted more notes on it.
“We must look at grooms and valets,” she said excitedly. “I couldn’t imagine any of my suitors being so brutal, but his paid servant. . . That’s a very real possibility.”
“Gentlemen can be brutal,” Ash admonished, speaking from painful experience.
The lady winced and glanced at him apologetically. “True, but the guests at our house party tended to be men who need my dowry or my father’s support. They have titles, but they could not afford boxing salons or expensive stables. At most, they are politicians who spend their time in smoky clubs. At worst, they are dandies and not men who understand fists or weaponry, or so I thought, anyway.”
“That’s a very cynical vision for someone who doesn’t even listen to her callers,” Will chided, uncertain why he did so.
She shrugged her dainty shoulders, and he thanked the heavens that she wasn’t wearing a revealing evening gown. Her generous bosom distracted him with the slightest movement. He was a dog.
“The number of men considered eligible for my hand is limited. I’ve known their families since childhood. Their advantages have been discussed endlessly by my sisters and friends. Just because I can’t concentrate on their inanities when they speak doesn’t mean I don’t know who they are.”
Will suspected she made lists of their advantages and disadvantages, if only to force herself to focus on such a momentous decision as marriage. He almost sympathized with her plight. Almost.
He turned to his brother, who knew every aristocrat in the kingdom. “You have seen her list of guests? Do any of them resemble Crockett’s description?”
“You need to attend occasional social functions so you meet them on your own,” Ash said, reaching for the last slice of cheese. “There’s a whole younger lot of bachelors out there now. I don’t know them.”
And lately, Ash hadn’t been able to see them well. Will swallowed a sigh of aggravation.
“I need to feed Alan,” Lady Ashford declared, pushing back her chair. “I didn’t grow up in Lela’s circles and can’t be much help identifying anyone either.”
Ash leapt up to assist her from her chair.
“Would any of the grooms back at the castle be able to recognize him?” Lela asked.
Distracted by the question, Will cast his thoughts over the duke’s stable hands. “I doubt they can read. I’d have to ride back and ask. But if this Crockett was acting as your suitor’s valet, we’d also have to ask the house servants.”
“I’ll have my sisters talk to their maids and start making inquiries. It will give their idle minds some occupation.” She made another note.
The door closed after Ash escorted his wife out, and Will was suddenly, vividly aware that they were alone. Lela’s white-gold head bent over her endless list. Her seductive scent teased his nostrils. And he dared drop his gaze to the linen she wore tucked into her bodice to conceal the assets with which nature had blessed her. Envisioning the elegant white globes beneath, Will felt his cock stiffen, and he hastily shoved his chair back. “We’ll be leaving at dawn if we’re to make London by nightfall tomorrow. I’ll see you back to your chamber.”
She glanced up in surprise. “Oh, I didn’t think we were attempting to make the city so soon.”
They probably weren’t, but Will couldn’t manage another night like this one. “We still haven’t ascertained how far away I must be so you can sleep easily.” Knowing the etiquette but out of practice, Will strode to her side of the table and held the back of her chair, waiting for her to rise so he could move it out of the way.
Instead of rising, she sat back and smiled teasingly up at him. “It’s impossible to wave a signal at you if you’re out of sight.”
He had all he could do to drag his gaze from the inviting temptation of moist pink lips. Was the woman insane? Didn’t she know better than to taunt a dog in a manger?
He dragged the chair from the table without her aid. “I’ll stand in the stable door and you can wave from your window.” He grabbed her elbow and almost heaved her from the chair.
“My, we are in a hurry.” She picked up her list, carefully folded it, and tucked it into a hidden pocket. Standing toe-to-toe with him, she tilted her head back to meet his eyes directly. “I’ve been told I can have any man I like, but that’s not entirely true.”
Will blinked and took another step backward. But she was still too close. He need only put his great clumsy hands around her waist and. . .
She continued as if his head hadn’t spun off his neck. “Until now, I’ve only been able to choose among the gentlemen my family finds suitable. Their taste is evidently not mine. I intend to explore further afield, if I am able. Will you help me?”
Damn, but there was an opening big enough to run a bull through. And he couldn’t take it. Wanting nothing more than to savor those taunting pink lips again, he offered his coat sleeve. When she didn’t immediately accept it, he yanked her hand through the crook of his elbow, then opened the door so he could breathe again.
“No,” he said coldly, unequivocally. “I am not your play toy, your servant, or your footstool. I am here to help you find a would-be killer, nothing more. Beyond that, you’re on your own.”
She ran to keep up with him as he strode
toward the staircase. “You are an extremely thick-headed man, William Ives-Madden.”
“I am a man gifted with strong survival instincts. Do you want your father and brother to kill me?” he asked in anger.
“I am of age,” she said indignantly, stomping up the stairs ahead of him, if ladies as delicate as she could be said to stomp. “I have my own income. I could set up a house by myself, if I so wished.”
“But it would have to be on an island so you wouldn’t hear voices,” he finished for her. “I cannot help you there.”
“You could, but you have just refused. So perhaps I should start shopping for islands.”
“I have a cousin who will gladly help you shop. He’s a bit of a pirate and in the Caribbean now, but maybe he could recommend someone.”
They reached her bedchamber door. She glared at him. Her heart-shaped face and long-lashed eyes weren’t designed for glaring. She looked like a petulant toddler. Will fought a grin.
“I had wanted to find a husband who would let me be useful,” she said in fury. “But now I see it would be far better if I learned to be useful on my own. Good-night, Mr. Madden.”
She swung around and entered her chamber, slamming the door in his face.
Will thought he’d just been reduced from Will Ives, brother of a marquess, to Mr. Madden, the dog trainer again—where he wanted to be, right?
The next evening, the berlin took on fresh horses and traveled at a brisk clip to reach the gas-lit city streets before dark, leaving the slower baggage wagons behind. Will was torn between staying with the carriage or the wagons, ultimately deciding that he needed to take Ajax around the duke’s property before he could be positive the lady and little Rose were safe.
Outside London, he took Ajax from the cart so they could travel ahead. At the duke’s townhouse, he let the dog scent the kidnapper’s note before walking around the circumference of the city-block-sized home. He let the servants know the berlin wasn’t far behind so they could prepare the fires. He had the dog check all the shrubbery. While servants ran to help Lela and Rose from the carriage in front, Will headed for the mews and the duke’s private stable in back.
The gaslights were lit and the duke was just emerging from the stable when Will and Ajax trotted down the alley. Tall, slender, with graying blond hair, the duke of Sommersville looked weary as he noted their approach. He removed his tall top hat and ran his hand through his still-thick mane, then petted the dog when they reached him.
“Is there trouble at home?” His Grace asked, frowning.
“Lady Aurelia decided to come to town,” Will said evasively, not wanting to reveal anything the lady didn’t wish to tell him herself. “Ajax is such a smart animal, I thought it might be useful to take her training up another level.”
“That’s a diplomatic response,” the duke said with a snort, heading for the back gate. “Come on in. We’ll let Lela explain.”
Going inside the duke’s palace and listening to his daughter was the last thing Will wanted to do. “I’m staying at Pascoe’s. If you’ll tell me if you prefer the dog stay here or with me, I need to let his servants know I’ve arrived.” Not that he expected Pascoe to have left anyone but his elderly housekeeper in charge, but Will wanted to establish that he had other places to go.
“Nonsense,” the duke said dismissively, opening the back gate usually reserved for servants. “Ajax needs to learn the household. I’m eager to find out how you dragged my daughter out of her tower.”
Descendant of one of the more eccentric Malcolm women, the duke was purportedly a healer, like Emilia. But the true mark of his heritage was that he disdained aristocratic formality for expediency, one of the many reasons Will liked working for him. Still, if a duke invited him inside, only a prince could defy him.
Gritting his teeth, Will entered the towering paneled corridor running down the center of the house. Unlike other mansions of this size, this one had not been created by knocking out walls of adjoining townhomes. It had been designed and built from the ground up as a palace fitting for a duke. Another of the duke’s ancestors had been infamous for his architectural madness, but this place was of more modern vintage and even sported interior gas lamps.
Servants were bustling up and down the back stairs. They didn’t look startled at the duke’s arrival through the rear door but accepted his hat and redingote as if it were a normal event. They did appear a little surprised by Ajax but the duke was holding her collar. Will, they ignored. He looked the part of dog trainer in cap and tweed, and they didn’t recognize him otherwise.
As they reached the front of the house, the duke asked a footman to find Lela, then proceeded into a book-lined study where he poured a brandy for himself and Will. Ajax settled happily on the warm hearth.
“Does this mean Ashford has returned to town?” His Grace asked, settling into his desk chair and gesturing for Will to sit.
Avoiding the upholstered wing chairs with delicately bowed legs, Will chose a sturdy leather settee. “Your daughter traveled with Ashford and his lady, sir. Ash is eager to take the bit again, I believe. With your permission, I’d like to take Ajax around the perimeter of the interior, learn who belongs here and who doesn’t.”
Perhaps he could escape before Lela came down. She’d have to settle Rose in the nursery, and then dress for dinner or rest after the exhausting journey. He couldn’t drink the offered brandy on an empty stomach, but he made a pretense while waiting for an excuse to escape.
“Of course, of course, after dinner,” the duke said with a dismissive gesture. “We keep city hours here of necessity. The sessions run late. I’m ready to hand the lot of horses’ asses back to Ash. I’m too old for this. I don’t suppose you’ve ever considered politics like that other brother of yours? He’s good. We need more men like him.”
Will petted Ajax and tried not to swear. “No, your grace,” he said, reminding the man of their differences in station. “Erran is the erudite lawyer in the family.”
“Has a way with words, no doubt about it. But sometimes we need men who can knock heads together, although I suppose that’s not your way. You Ives tend to be more cerebral. Ah, I think that’s Lela now.” The duke stood at the soft shuffle of slippers in the corridor.
Will thought the lady may have inherited some of her acute hearing from her father. He’d only just caught her scent. He rose too, wishing he could be anywhere else but here. Cerebral! He was the one Ives who was anything but cerebral. Knocking heads together was exactly how he liked to solve a situation.
Lela entered still wearing her travel gown, although she’d shed her pelisse and hat. She flung her arms around her father and kissed his cheek. “Well met! I feared you wouldn’t arrive until late. I have so much to tell you!”
She spun to greet Will. “Unless you have told him, of course? You’re doing an absolutely marvelous job of suffocating voices. I can almost hear myself think!”
Will had no reply for that. He nodded and waited for the duke to take the lead.
“Shall you tell me over dinner? Especially this bit about suffocating voices,” the duke asked, hugging her with obvious affection. “You must have just arrived.”
“Will you stay?” she asked, looking at Will.
How did he say no? She was this shimmering field of pure light and energy, and he could no more resist than a moth could a flame. He couldn’t even remember why he should say no. He did remember, however, that he wasn’t dressed for a formal dinner. Sighing with relief, he managed to utter the empty phrases he’d heard his loutish brothers use as excuse, “I am still in my travel dirt, my lady. I need to retire to my uncle’s home and raise the servants.”
She waved her hand dismissively, as a fairy would her magic wand. “Don’t be foolish. The baggage wagon is carrying your things as well as mine and won’t arrive until morning. Ashford should be home now. We’ll send a footman over to collect the clothes he promised you. I’ll have Mrs. Brown show you to a room.” She petted Ajax’s head. “O
ne where you can easily take out the dogs if you must, although we have servants who will do it for you.”
She rang for the housekeeper before Will could open his mouth. Any of his brothers would have found a way out of this trap, but he’d never been quick with polite lies.
Since the duke appeared to approve of his daughter’s suggestion, Will followed the housekeeper to his doom.
Chapter 15
Feeling like a conquering general who had just routed the enemy troops, Aurelia dressed triumphantly for dinner. She’d persuaded the very stubborn Will Madden to stay in her home! She probably ought to think about why she found this exciting, but no man had ever excited her before, and that was reason enough.
She checked to be certain Rose was settling into the attic nursery with a maid who claimed to have experience with little ones. They’d had to leave the puppies with the baggage wagon, and the child was sad about that, but interested in her new surroundings. Lela left her with a stack of picture books and dolls.
Addy was still with the baggage wagons too. This meant Lela’s wardrobe choices were limited. If she were to take this quixotic journey of pursuing Will, she had to decide if she wished to continue overwhelming him with glamor—or let him learn there was more to her than appearance. Not a difficult decision.
The evening gowns she’d left here were from several seasons ago, but Will would never notice. Unfortunately, the only ones she’d left were the off-the-shoulder bodices because they were too chilly for Yorkshire, but she had a lovely shawl she could wear over the pink crepe. The skirt was only slightly belled and the drape very Grecian, so it was reasonably simple.
It showed her ankles, however, and she was vain enough to remember Will noticing the last time she’d worn the new style. So, she wasn’t a Puritan. She wore her laciest stockings. He couldn’t fail to notice her hemline, and she thrilled foolishly at the notion.
Perhaps Will wasn’t a proper suitor, but she should be allowed to enjoy the same thrill as her sisters at the possibility of practicing her womanly charms. Dinners had always been a horrible ordeal before. The freedom to enjoy herself was invigorating.
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