“No, you wouldn’t have, Grandma. You’d have twisted my arm until I gave in and went to live with you.” She knew her grandparent well.
“And why shouldn’t you come live with your old grandmother?”
“Ha! You only pull out your age, like a trump card, to get your own way. I know of few people who have your energy and verve. Not even women many years younger than you.”
Her grandmother tried to hide her pleased smile.
“I want to live alone, Grandma,” she explained. “I’ve spent my whole life in a house full of people, taking care of them. It’s time for me to think about myself and what I want.”
“I understand, dear, but in this case, until you have your house well organized, with all your servants in order and with a bona fide companion, I see no option but for me to move in with you. To protect your good name.” She continued, “It’s unseemly to have my grandchild alone in a house in London, particularly when she has family around. People will think you are at odds with the family.”
“Ah, Grandma…” She knew she was bleating, but darn it all, why did her family always have to interfere in her plans? She might have known Grandma knew about Cousin Minerva.
“And who is this Mr. Leighton you introduced me to and why is he making free of your library?”
“The owner of the house has granted him the use of the library for research purposes. He’s no bother.” She congratulated herself on her quick thinking, while inwardly bemoaning the fact that she was becoming far too adept at telling tales.
Her grandmother sniffed. “Highly irregular. It makes me glad I’m moving in to ensure nothing untoward happens.” She directed a stern look at Tally and said,
“I will be moving in tomorrow, the day after at the latest.”
“But Grandma...”
A discrete knock at the door preceded Foster’s entry into the room. He gave an abbreviated bow in her grandmother’s direction then said, “Mr. Leighton would like a word with you, Miss.” When she didn’t immediately move, he added, “Best not keep him waiting.” And, making sure her relative couldn’t see, he winked at her!
What was he trying to do, get her in more trouble?
She left the room reluctantly. She didn’t like leaving those two old conspirators together unsupervised. Who knew what plots they’d devise to complicate the situation even more? Instead of going to see Reed, she put her ear to the door, thankful there was no footman to see her do it.
“Quick, Foster, tell me what’s going on between those two,” her grandmother said.
“Nothing ma’am.” Foster sounded far too innocent. Grandma was going to suspect he was hiding something.
“Oh don’t you “ma’am” me, you old fraud. Something is definitely going on and you’re in it up to your neck!” At his continued silence, she said, “Well, I’ll be moving in and will get to the bottom of it, fear not.”
“No need, ma’am.” At Grandma Eva’s annoyed snort, he must have moved closer to her because she couldn’t hear him as well. “You can be sure nothing is going to happen on my watch. If Mr. Leighton tried anything untoward, I’d use my trusty blunderbuss to put a hole in him so big we’d see his ar– er...”
Tally almost choked trying to stifle her laughter. She imagined the quelling stare her grandmother had leveled on him to stop him that abruptly.
“Well, ye know what I mean. Heh heh...”
“Good. I know you’d not see a hair on that child’s head harmed, that’s why I haven’t interfered sooner. Ida had utter confidence in you and so do I. At least I won’t have to move in today. However, I will be moving in, make no mistake about that. Somebody has to watch out for the child’s reputation.”
“When may we expect you, ma’am?” He sounded all-butler now.
“Now that I know you have the situation in hand, I’ll arrive the day after next,” She heard her grandmother say. “I have an appointment tomorrow, I really cannot miss.”
She stood and adjusted her skirts, ready to bid her dear grandmother arrivederci. She was grateful Foster had once again saved the day. Although it was going to be far from easy, they’d been given a reprieve and had one more day to find somewhere to send Reed.
* * *
“We’re no closer to finding a solution and Grandma Lawton will be here tomorrow!”
“Humph,” grunted Foster.
The look Tally threw him held equal parts exasperation and panic.
“What are we going to do?” She was almost ready to confess all to both Reed and her grandmother and beg their help.
She should be doing something about it, instead Mr. Dubuc was about to arrive any minute to take her for their drive in the park. And, although she knew she needed to be here resolving their problem, she was anxious to leave in case her grandmother changed her mind and arrived early.
She had on her most concealing hat, a straw gypsy bonnet with a wide navy blue scarf tied under her chin. Even if few in London knew her, she was not keen on being noticed. She looked sufficiently like her sisters, who were well-known portrait artists, to be recognized as a Lawton.
Suddenly Reed stalked into the drawing room, where she was waiting. “What do you mean you’re going out for a ride with that French fellow?” He was incensed that his wife was going out riding in the park with another man, especially that man. He’d taken an immediate dislike to Dubuc. Watching him cozying up to Tally at the party had not endeared the man to him. “Are we not husband and wife? Do I not have the right to forbid it?”
“But married couples do this all the time. The husband goes out with his friends and the wife with hers.”
He noted she never said that they did that all the time. Was he crazy to wonder if they were, in fact, married? His memories had started to return, but not one of them concerned his wife.
“That may be so, but not usually with young, unmarried men, I’m convinced.” He felt belligerent. Like he needed to protect what was his.
“In truth, they do. However, flirting is not why I am going for this ride with Mr. Dubuc, if that is what concerns you. I need information regarding his uncle.”
“Who is his uncle?” Was she trying to fool him with a trumped up story?
“Monsieur Moreau.”
“Ah…” He should have realized it. His wife was very single-minded regarding her art. “So he’s still missing?”
“Yes and I’m terribly worried about him.” She wrung her hands anxiously. “I know he’d never abandon me like this. He’d take measures beforehand to see that I was well taken care of.”
“You think foul play has occurred?” Once the statement was out of his mouth, he realized it had come out very naturally. He seemed to be accustomed to dealing with foul play.
Disturbing thought.
“I suspect it,” she replied, “unless I am badly mistaken in the man’s character.”
“What if the nephew is involved in the foul play?”
“That is absurd. Monsieur has raised Mr. Dubuc like a son? Why would his nephew turn on him?”
“Since time immemorial, men have been known to turn their backs on family for their own selfish needs.” He wondered if that was what he himself had done six years ago.
“But to make a man disappear…. To harm him? Really!” She exclaimed. “You’re just trying to frighten me.”
“Nevertheless, I’d be happier if you weren’t alone with the man. Take Mason with you.” Ever since that runaway cart episode, he worried about her being exposed to whoever had tried to harm her that day.
“Impossible. He’s going to…” Tally bit her tongue to stop herself from continuing. She’d been about to say, follow you, in case there is another attack. Instead, she changed it to “…meet someone.” Despite his lack of memory, Reed was no slow-top. He’d obviously taken Mr. Mason’s measure and sensed he was there as more than just her brothers’ friend.
“Don’t worry, I’m planning on bringing Joseph.”
The look he gave her made clear how he viewe
d that solution, but before he had a chance to object further, Foster — who had gone to answer the front door — came to the open drawing-room door.
“Monsieur Dubuc is here, Mrs. Leighton.” He sounded stiff and she knew he had overheard Reed’s concern. Lord, what a pickle! Now Foster was going to spend the entire time she was gone fretting about her safety.
“Coming.” She went into the hallway. “I’ll wear my royal blue pelisse, Foster.” She smiled at his relieved expression.
He nodded. He understood she was taking this seriously and was taking precautions.
He held the pelisse for her and, once it settled over her shoulders, she patted both sides of the coat to show him she was carrying her pocket pistol and knife just as they’d planned. To him, London was a dangerous city, and he’d prepared her for most eventualities.
“Come Joseph.”
Standing at the window, Reed watched her go. Dubuc certainly didn’t lack for money. That was an excellent pair of high steppers behind the obviously brand new curricle. He would not have expected an artist’s nephew to have that kind of blunt. There must be a rich relative somewhere in the picture to afford such quality.
Foster re-entered the drawing room. He stood there, clearly wanting to say something.
“What’s going on, Foster? My memory may be gone, but my brain isn’t and I sense something that doesn’t smell right.”
“I can’t rightly say, sir.”
But the old butler looked like he very much wanted to say.
“I am concerned about my wife. If you know of some further danger to her, speak now.”
“Humph.” He paused so long Reed thought he wasn’t going to speak, then he added grudgingly, “In addition to that fugitive cart the other day, there have been several incidents since we arrived in London.”
“Incidents like what?”
“Like a rock thrown into our carriage that almost hit Missy in the head. Like a carriage narrowly missing running her over the first week we arrived. I kept telling her they were no mere accidents, but it was only when…” The old codger cast a furtive look at Reed.
Had it something to do with him?
“…the rock was thrown, that she began to take it seriously. That’s why we hired Mr. Mason.”
He’d be willing to bet hundreds that Foster had changed what he’d originally meant to say, but Reed knew he was not going to get more than the butler was willing to offer. He concentrated instead on what he’d just been told. “Ah. So Mason is here to protect Talia?”
“So to speak,” Foster admitted. “He’s here to investigate, as well.
“Then why is he not accompanying her today?” It seemed the most important thing Mason should be doing.
Foster shrugged. “A good-looking young man like Mason does not make for a good chaperone when a lady is out with a young man.”
Reed didn’t like the shifty look the ordinarily blunt retainer gave him, before glancing away. The old codger knew more than he was saying. Was Foster reluctant to tell him that Reed was the one bringing danger hovering over them all?
“Foster, is there something important I should know about my relationship with Mrs. Leighton that I can’t recall?”
“It’s not my place to say, sir.”
Which meant there probably was something going on in their marriage. Something Tally didn’t want to tell him.
Foster hesitated, then asked, “Are you getting any of yer memory back at all, sir?”
“More memories are returning since... these last few days,” he admitted. He still hadn’t mentioned the attack. He didn’t want to worry his wife. She had enough troubles with him losing his memory, attacks on her person, and her absent art teacher. “The odd thing is not one of my memories includes Mrs. Leighton… though, I’d appreciate you not mentioning this to her.”
The butler’s face was a study in impassivity. “I’m glad you’re beginning to recollect yer life, sir. Matters should sort themselves out once you’ve recovered more of it.” He moved to the door and, before leaving, turned to add, “Just remember, things aren’t always what they seem. There can be good reasons for doing what seems like dishonest things.”
And on that cryptic comment the old fellow trudged out of the room, leaving Reed more perplexed than ever.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The sun cast dappled shade on the young lady sitting on a park bench, beneath a large willow tree, the Serpentine winding its sinuous way in front of her. She wore a bright magenta poke bonnet of the latest stare. It set her apart somehow. Or maybe it was the way she held herself so still, not wishing to frighten away the little bird pecking at something on the ground beside her bench. She was sketching the small winged animal and Tally itched to join her on the bench to do the same. She tried to imprint the image in her brain so she could draw it later.
Mr. Dubuc had wanted them to walk, while Joseph watched his horses and curricle, but she said that would be unwise. Joseph had no experience with horses and Mr. Dubuc’s were highly strung. Besides, she was not willing to stroll the paths without a proper chaperone. She may not be the most town-savvy miss, but Grandma Eva had taught her enough that she knew it wasn’t wise for an unmarried female to be seen walking in Hyde Park at the peak hour without a suitable companion. As a result, they took in the sights and enjoyed nature’s beauty from the seat of his curricle, driving along, as slowly as he was able to control his eager horses.
It puzzled her that someone who cared so much what others thought of him, should be so careless of her reputation. But she was so happy to be outside, surrounded by nature again, that she cast aside such troublesome nigglings.
Despite not getting his way, Mr. Dubuc was in fine humor. His good-looks were attracting female attention, as many of the young ladies they passed sent coy looks his way. His top hat in no way detracted from showing off his perfectly coiffed, wheaten hair. She took a moment to observe him. His neck cloth was elaborately tied and his aubergine-colored waistcoat was the perfect foil for the pearl gray of his exquisitely cut tail-coat. She hadn’t realized how tall he was, shorter than Reed, but not by much. He was, however, slighter and a lot less muscular than her sham spouse.
Shame on you for being so mean-spirited as to compare him negatively, she admonished herself, the poor man has been all that is nice to you. And he was lively and good company, she admitted, despite being a little too preoccupied with himself.
“Just like a painting,” he said, echoing her earlier musings. “We have to take advantage of this sun. There are so few really nice days in London.” He smiled down at her.
She watched an elderly couple feeding a... gaggle? No, was it a drift of du…no no, it was a drift of hogs! What did one call ducks? Now she had it! It was a paddling of ducks. The whole flock of them were… swishing about, trying to edge their brothers and sisters out, while they quacked vociferously for more. Further along, a young boy, carefully watched by his nanny, pulled a bright red toy boat along the shoreline.
“Paris is so much brighter than London for most of the year.”
She heard a touch of longing in his words. She found it odd he’d long for France, given he’d been living in London all his life.
There certainly was a lot of activity in the park at this hour. Belatedly, she recalled that this was where everyone who wanted to be seen came. She had heard about this, but never imagined she’d be among the participants one day. To be frank, she’d have preferred not to be. Such public exposure did not fit in with her plan to remain incognito.
Not that anyone who was anybody knew her. But nor did she want them to, and with the way her companion was greeting almost everyone they passed, her anonymity was in grave danger of being threatened.
Nodding cheerfully to this one and that one, Mr. Dubuc clearly was trying to impress her with how well he fit in with members of the ton assembled here in their vehicles and on foot. He wasn’t to know that she’d never cared very much about appearances and secretly found this crowd a curiosi
ty, to be mocked for their self-satisfied, supercilious airs. Her only interest would have been to paint them!
Ahead of them, a man stopped and bowed to two ladies on a park bench. The ladies’ companions were seated on the next bench, a little ways away. The women laughed gaily at the gentleman’s comments. There was something familiar about him. Just before they reached the trio, he bid the ladies adieu and turned, in their direction, to continue on his way.
Baron Morley! Oh no! Why did life have to be so perverse?
She kept her head averted, hoping they’d pass him by without his noticing her.
“Good day, Lord Morley.”
Tally’s head snapped around so quickly she almost lost her bonnet.
Her escort pulled on the reins and stopped the curricle.
Mr. Dubuc knew him too? Reluctantly, she looked down at the man who came to stand by her side of the vehicle.
“You two must have met the other night?” Mr. Dubuc said.
Of course! They’d both been at her sister’s soirée.
She shook her head, determinedly avoiding the Baron’s knowing smile. She hadn’t seen them greeting each other the other night, but she might have known they’d know each other. London seemed smaller and smaller the more she knew of it.
“Miss Lawton, may I present Baron Morley?”
Too much to hope he’d not recognize her. She prayed he didn’t ask about Reed.
“Ah... Miss Lawton.” He gave a snappy little bow. “The elusive youngest daughter of Wendal Lawton.”
She released her breath. Maybe he wasn’t going to mention seeing her with Reed outside the Academy. “In person.” She nodded. “Why elusive?”
“I never managed to get close enough to you the other night to be introduced.” His knowing smirk made it clear he’d known she was avoiding him.
She reassured herself he probably hadn’t seen her properly in front of the Academy the other day so had no way of knowing why.
He must have decided to take pity on her obvious discomfort, because he changed the subject before Mr. Dubuc could question his manner. “I have several of your father’s paintings in my home. I’m an avid admirer of his work.”
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