* * *
"Thank you for seeing me, my lord." Accepting the gestured seat, Ian faced the Earl of Tonneson and found it hard to believe that this soft, plump man was related to those two charming ladies in any fashion.
"What can I do for you, Mr. Fortune?" asked Lord Tonneson as he popped a grape into his mouth. "I'm a very busy man."
The words ended up sounding like "I'm a werry weese mam" as the earl tried to speak while eating. Ian didn't know whether to shiver in distaste or laugh at the man's ridiculousness. He did neither. Instead, he focused upon his concerns. "I've called upon you today because I wish to discuss your wards."
"My what?"
"Your wards," Ian repeated. "The two daughters of the former earl."
"Alyssa and Calla?" exclaimed the round man as he sat up in his seat. "You've found them?"
Ian blinked twice. "Are you telling me you'd lost them?"
"Not precisely," blustered the earl. "I'd merely... misplaced them for a while."
The anger building inside of Ian must have been reflected upon his face for the pale dandy continued to stutter over excuses.
"I'd provided them with a perfectly fine cottage in Northumberland," protested Lord Tonneson. "They had no cause to leave."
Somewhat mollified, Ian sat back in his chair. "I take it then that you had no idea that Lady Greenald and Lady Call a had arrived in London."
"Lady who?"
Lord, the man was as slow-witted as he was soft! Holding in his exasperated sigh, Ian said, "Lady Greenald and Lady Calla...your wards."
"Oh-Oh. You mean Alyssa and Calla." Shaking his head, Lord Tonneson frowned. "Though I don't know who this Lady Greenald is."
Since the earl was obviously addled, Ian didn't see any point in arguing. Undoubtedly further explanation would only result in more confusion. "Never mind," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I had hoped that you might know their address so I could call upon Lady Gre... er, Lady Alyssa and her sister."
"Can't help you there, but now that I know they're in London, you can be assured that I'll search the city for them."
Lord Tonneson's assurance eased Ian's mind. "If I run into the ladies again, I shall direct them to you, my lord."
"Indeed. I know just what to do with them."
The hard glint that had flickered briefly in the earl's eyes set lan's nerves jangling again. "Excuse me?"
Shaking his head, the earl smoothed out his expression. "What I meant is that I am eager to set them up in town, to assure myself that they're safe and comfortable.''
Indeed he would, Ian thought, as he rose from his chair. In feet, Ian'd make certain of it.
* * *
"I don't like to be kept waiting, Meiser," grumbled the earl as he paced to and fro upon the rug. It was the most movement Meiser had ever seen from the earl. "I was visited today by a man, a Mr. Ian Fortune, who told me that my cousins were here in London!"
"Here?" exclaimed Meiser. Of all the places he'd imagined the girls would have gone, London hadn't been among them. After all, the girls had never come to town with their parents. Indeed, their entire lives had been spent at the Tonneson country estate, so he thought they'd seek a similar situation.
Meiser had spent the last few days inquiring after distant relatives and the like, thinking perhaps the sisters had sought aid, but never once had he imagined them trying to survive in town. "Why? How?"
"That's what I pay you to find out!" The Earl of Tonneson pointed a pudgy finger at him. "And I want you to find them soon. I don't want any more strangers knocking on my door, requesting admittance, just so that they can insinuate that I've neglected my duties toward my cousins."
In other words, stated the bald truth. Meiser kept that thought to himsefl. "Yes, my lord. I shall get right on it."
"See that you do, Meiser, or you'll soon find yourself without a position."
But Meiser knew the earl was wrong. With a little luck, he'd find himself with a new bride.
* * *
Feeling ill-at-ease in the room where his father must have played as a boy, Ian remained standing as he awaited the arrival of his grandfather, the duke. Ever since Zora had urged him to face his past, Ian had been contemplating this visit, yet he hadn't realized he'd made a firm decision until he'd ended up at the duke's front entrance. Hearing approaching footsteps, Ian turned to face the doorway.
Surprise, recognition, and wariness flashed across Regis Fortune's face, before he stilled his features into cool lines. "When my butler informed me that someone had barged into my home, demanding entrance, I never imagined it was you." One shoulder lifted. "Though given your background, I suppose I should have expected such common behavior."
A sharp retort rose to Ian's lips, but he swallowed it. "I didn't come here to argue with you," Ian said stiffly. "I merely wanted to inform you that your announcement claiming me as your heir is unwanted. I shall never accept the title."
"Good Lord, boy, don't you know you don't accept the title of duke. It's yours whether you like it or not. You were born to it!"
"I was bom to poverty, your grace," Ian replied, fighting to remain calm. "But once my father began his business, our financial situation improved greatly. Yet all the while, even when we ate only potatoes at every meal, I knew happiness, love, and security." Flicking a glance around the room, Ian shook his head. "Somehow I doubt my father knew the same as a child."
"How dare you?" the duke rasped. "How dare you come into my home and proceed to tell me what was lacking in my son's life? I loved Harold."
"Until he disobeyed you," Ian said softly, surprised to see pain tighten the duke's features.
"You're wrong. I loved him still, but my duty to my own father and all the dukes before him demanded I cast Harold out for bringing such dishonor to the fam-ily name." Clasping his hands behind his back, the duke lifted his chin. "I now see I made a mistake. Instead of allowing Harold to go his own way with the serving wench, I should have shipped them off to Scot-land or somewhere in the wilds until you were born. Then I could have claimed your mother was of Scot' tish nobility. If I'd done that, I could have ensured that you at least received training for your position."
The duke's sheer arrogance astounded Ian. "What makes you believe I would ever have listened to anything you had to say to me?"
"Because you would have been trained to do so. I'm certain I could have convinced Harold of the necessity for training."
"Like a favorite dog."
"No, like the grandson of a duke!" Spreading his hands wide, the duke took a step forward. "Don't you realize all I could do for you, Ian? It's not too late for us. If you agreed, I would begin your training immediately and show you all the responsibilities of the dukedom. You'd even be free to give up your demeaning role as merchant."
"Demeaning?" Ian repeated, astounded. "You know nothing about me if you believe that I find my business demeaning. It has built my fortune, given me purpose, held me together after my father died... and my mother succumbed to the loneliness of a broken heart." A harsh laugh escaped him. "I'd no sooner give my business up than I would my memories of my parents."
"Fine, then keep the blasted job!" exclaimed the duke as he pounded a fist against the mantel. "Just accept your responsibilities as the next Duke of Hammond. You're my blood, boy, whether we like it or not. There is so much I could give you."
"There's nothing I want from you."
But even as Ian said the words, he knew he wasn't being completely honest. Deep in his soul, there was a dark longing, a wish that only this man could grant.
To be part of a family again. To have a history, a lineage to look back upon.
Looking at his grandfather was like looking at an older version of himself. There was a bond between them that could be denied, but never broken. If only things had been different and his grandfather had accepted his mother, then there would be more than just blood between them.
But things weren't different. They were simply strangers who happened
to share a few facial features and a last name. Ian knew he'd best remember that fact... for this cold, hard man had turned away his only son for committing the.sin of falling in love with a serving maid.
"There's nothing I want from you," Ian repeated firmly, forcing himself to remember the past and all the pain this man had inflicted upon his parents. "And that includes your bloody title."
The duke flinched, making Ian wonder if perhaps he regretted the past. Impossible, Ian decided. Undoubtedly the duke was merely unused to having his dictates thrown back in his face. Taking one last look around the room, Ian realized that this was the home where his father had grown up, where his mother had come to work as a young girl, where his parents had fallen in love. So many things, so many memories lost because of idiotic notions of station.
"I will never become the Duke of Hammond."
"I already told you, boy. You have no choice in the matter." Pulling back his shoulders, the duke fixed a firm gaze upon him. "And if you refuse to accept the title, then do you also refuse the entitlements? Don't you realize how many people I support on my various estates? If you refuse to accept these responsibilities, what will happen to all of them?" He shook a finger at Ian. "The dukedom is bigger than us, Ian. It's more important than our petty problems or past mistakes."
The tremendous weight of responsibility settled down upon tan's shoulders even as he tried to escape it. "It's not my concern," Ian said, wishing he could believe it.
"Ah, but it is... and you know it." The duke took a step forward. "You feel it, don't you? You feel the pride of generations pulsing through your veins. Deny it all you like, Ian, but you are the future Duke of Hammond."
* * *
The duke concentrated to keep his hand from shaking as he took a sip of his brandy. "So what did you un-cover for me, Fenwig? Anything? Anything at all? I pay you handsomely to keep me informed," he finished, slamming his glass down on the sideboard.
"Yes, your grace. I've tried my best." Fenwig twisted his hat in his hands. "I followed him from the park... where he met a widow and a young girl... and on to the Earl of Tonneson's townhouse. He came straight here after that."
"Arrogant pup ... just like his rather."
"And his father before that," added Fenwig.
Lifting one brow, he glared at Fenwig. "I beg your pardon?"
"I meant no insult," Fenwig hurried to assure him.
"I should hope not," the duke replied, too distracted by his thoughts to put a bite in the response. Damn, but the boy had been fierce. Not that it would do Ian much good, the duke thought, for he was determined to secure a suitable heir for the title... which meant ensuring that his grandson marry someone worthy.
"I do have a bit of interesting news," Fenwig offered, snapping the duke back from his thoughts. "The reason why your grandson called upon the Earl of Ton-neson was to inquire after his cousins."
Now that captured Hammond's attention. "Cousins?"
Nodding, Fenwig continued, "Yes, the previous earl had two daughters, sweet, lovely, and well-bred, according to the servants. They told me the present earl set the girls up in the North Country, but they didn't remain there. Apparently, the girls have the wanderlust just like their parents. Today, your grandson remarked that he'd met them here in London."
"Now that is interesting," the duke murmured. "The daughter of an earl would be a suitable bride for my grandson, don't you think?"
Alarm widened Fenwig's eyes. "I merely said he inquired after them, your grace. None of the servants said anything about marriage being mentioned."
"If Ian was interested enough to call upon the earl, then I'd say the ladies have already captured his attention. But which one?"
"The younger of the two is only a child, so it must be the elder sister, Lady Alyssa."
Slapping a hand upon Fenwig's shoulder, the duke smiled broadly. "Well done, my man. Track down this Lady Alyssa and find out all you can about her. After I assure myself that she is a proper consort for my grandson, I'll visit the earl and make an offer on Ian's behalf."
9
Laying out the tarot cards, Alyssa let her thoughts settle upon Ian... again. She'd calmed down a bit since storming away from him and even felt a bit fool' ish for her actions. It was perfectly understandable that Ian would invite Lady Greenald to dine with him even though he'd shared a kiss with Madam Zora. After all, Lady Greenald was someone to court, while Madam Zora... well, suffice it to say, marriage to a Gypsy would never enter Ian's mind.
It was all so confusing, but in the midst of her chaotic thoughts, Alyssa realized one thing.
She had to push Ian away.
It wasn't to to either of them to continue these charades. Indeed, Alyssa felt as if she were as guilty of manipulating Ian as his grandfather... and that was not acceptable. Tonight, she would find a way to anger him enough so he wouldn't want to spend any more time with her. Though she found the thought utterly depressing, Alyssa knew it was what she had to do.
"I wanted to tell you how much I appreciate your help with Lord Covington."
Shaking loose her thoughts of Ian, Alyssa smiled at Lady Covington. "Thank you, my lady."
"No, thank you, Madam Zora," gushed the elderly lady. "Ever since you told him to follow his heart, he's become very enthusiastic about this one particular investment. I haven't seen this much life in him for a long, long time." A pretty flush brightened her well-lined features. "He's become my Edgar again."
"I'm glad," Alyssa answered simply... and she was. It pleased her to know that despite what Ian believed, she did make a positive difference in people's lives.
Lady Covington's eyes glowed with admiration as she whispered, "Whether you can truly see into the future or not, you've changed my husband because he believes in you." A tremulous smile curved her lips upward. "So, I thank you, my dear."
As she accepted Lady Covington's praise, Alyssa glanced up to see Ian enter the drawing room. The warm smile he sent her only strengthened her resolve. Taking a deep breath, she braced herself as Lady Cov-ington stood and headed for the door.
Making his way toward her, Ian came to a stop next to her table. "Good day to you, Madam Zora."
"It was," she replied caustically, trying not to wince at her rudeness.
His brows lifted. "Am I to take it that my presence has somehow dimmed your pleasure in the day?"
"I have always admired your perception." Aware of the room growing quiet as attention focused upon them, Alyssa began to collect her cards. "I have finished telling fortunes for the evening."
A side of his mouth quirked upward. "That is perfectly fine, for I only came to speak with you, not to listen to your clever tales."
Fighting the urge to respond to his teasing, Alyssa kept her expression cool. "I am paid to entertain the guests, sir, not converse with them on matters other than their fortunes."
A frown darkened Ian's expression. "Zora? What's the matter?"
"Nothing," she said briskly, focusing on packing her bag. "I simply wish to be off for home," she finished, finally lifting her gaze.
Stiffening, Ian glanced around the room. "I suggest we continue this discussion in private."
"There is nothing more to say," Alyssa replied, rising to her feet.
"I disagree." Reaching out, Ian grabbed hold of her arm. "If you'll accompany me to—"
"Release me," she exclaimed loudly, hoping to catch everyone's attention for this final act of her performance. "I... I... curse you!" she shouted, bringing gasps from everyone in the room. "May... may...," she began, searching for a curse to wish upon him, "... may a hundred... frogs plague you by the week's end."
Ian blinked twice. "A hundred frogs?"
The amusement she heard in his voice made her worry that her plan wasn't working. "Horrid, nasty things that run wild in your home, a home where slimy creatures seem to thrive." The moment those words left her mouth she wished them back, for they only made Ian grin.
"So I'm a slimy creature, am I ?"
I
an's laughter wasn't the response she'd wanted. Grasping her bag, Alyssa strode from the room, fully aware of the ton's amused gazes.
In the hallway, she released her breath ... only to catch it again when Ian strode to her side. "Do you realize what you've done, Zora? By publicly cursing me, you've exposed yourself for the fraud you really are. When nothing amiss happens, everyone will real' ize that all you are is a magnificent performer." '
He was right. She knew he was right. But at this moment, she didn't care one whit. Tossing back her head, she gave him her haughtiest look. "And if I am proven right, then you shall be forced to eat your words about my lack of powers."
"Madam Zora, if you are proven right, then I shall eat one of your bloody frogs."
* * *
Leaving Ian standing in the hallway, Alyssa headed toward the kitchens, only to pull up short as a gentleman stepped into the hall directly in front of her.
"Pardon me," she murmured, looking up with a po-lite smile. "I wasn't paying attention to where..." Her words trailed off as shock flew through her. Mr. Meiser. How grand, she thought, holding back a sigh. Deciding to brazen it through, she pretended she didn't recognize him. "... to where I was going," she finished.
"Lady Alyssa," he whispered, obviously just as surprised to see her as she was to see him.
"I am Madam Zora, not this... Alyssa person you seek."
A deep frown furrowed Mr. Meiser's brow. "But you must be.. ." He shook his head. "Don't you remember meeting me at the cottage in Northumberland?"
"No, I'm sorry, I don't. I am not the lady you seek," she repeated, before stepping around him and hurry' ing toward the kitchen. She prayed he'd believed her.
Buf if she'd looked back, she would have seen the stunned expression upon Mr. Meiser's face harden into certainty.
Her secret had been discovered.
* * *
"Oh, Calla," Alyssa moaned as she laid her head upon their tiny, scarred table. "I don't know what we're going to do now, how we're going to live." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "This afternoon I did something unbelievably idiotic and in a few days, no one will ever hire me again."
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