“Good! I’ll speak with him now. He might know something about their whereabouts.” He waved Hislop on, preparing to follow, but the butler’s reply stopped him.
“He has already gone home at this hour, my lord.”
Reed glanced at the grandfather clock in the hall and saw it had gone six. Damn! “Of course. Tomorrow then.” He noticed he was gripping his kid gloves so tightly they were going to be ruined. He slapped them against his thigh, impatient to be doing something to get some answers.
He thought about what course to follow now. “I believe a visit to my parents’ home is in order.” He was almost out the door, when he turned back to add, “Should my supposed fiancé return, do precisely what you did the first time. She is not to be allowed into my home, under any circumstances.”
* * *
Reed soon realized he had no choice but to call on Lady Lawton, Tally’s grandmother.
After a serious discussion with his father, who did a lot of blustering but admitted that, following his visit to Tally, he’d gone to see the Duke and told him they had to wait for Reed’s return to finalize any betrothal agreement.
“How uncharacteristically thoughtful of you, father.” Reed’s sarcastic compliment was coated in ice.
His mother chuckled. “You deserve every bit of that, you meddling old fool. Didn’t making him flee for six years, teach you anything?”
His father winced at his wife’s scolding.
Reed didn’t bother telling him they’d sat together and talked in the park. But he did ask how his father had learned of Reed’s address.
“I overheard your brothers,” the Earl explained. “It didn’t take my investigator long to discover which law firm you were using and then to find out which property you owned.” He sounded proud of himself.
“I will be changing my attorneys forthwith.” He reined in his rage. “This has to stop, father. If my leaving for that long hasn’t taught you to stay out of my business, I promise you that next time, I will go away to America for good and only return after you have cocked up your toes!”
“Reed!” His father sounded shocked.
“I mean it, father. I will not put up with you trying to manipulate and run my life anymore.”
In the end, his father reluctantly agreed he’d stay out of Reed’s affairs and went so far as to admit he was glad to see Reed home.
In return, Reed unbent enough to tell him he’d been suffering from amnesia this past month, but left his mother, to whom he’d told all earlier, to explain further. He needed to find Tally as soon as possible.
Neither parent had any idea where Tally’s family lived. His heart sank when he realized who he was going to have to ask. Lady Lawton. He groaned at the thought. He dreaded facing the old dragon. Nevertheless, he went home to change into more formal visiting apparel. He needed all the armament he could find for a visit with Tally’s formidable grandmother.
* * *
“Miss! Miss Tally! A package just arrived for you.” Ned, the hefty young man she’d hired to do the heavy work, to save Foster’s back and arthritic limbs, came rushing into the stable where Foster was scolding her for mucking out and working too hard and neglecting her painting.
“Mr. Slade from the Village brought it.” Ned said.
“A package for me?”
“Yes, Miss, it’s huge.” The awe in Ned’s voice warned her to expect an impressive-sized package.
Foster betrayed no excitement at all. Like her, he was well accustomed to huge packages being delivered for her father or the others. He said, “Ned can finish this later, can’t you?”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Foster.”
“Come on then, let’s go see what this package is all about.” He patted her shoulder and turned to lead the way.
She smiled at the tender gesture. How she loved the old dear. She stood and washed her hands in the water Foster had brought for that purpose. He’d been stalwart in his support this past week. One surprise he’d revealed was her grandmother’s close friendship with Reed’s grandmother.
“Daphne is Reed’s grandmother?” Had Grandma recognized Reed as her great friend’s grandson?
“Are ye going stand there in the moon all day?” Foster called back to her from the barn entrance.
“Coming!” She wiped her hands on her protective apron and hurried after them, focusing her mind on the package that awaited her. Who could have sent anything to her? Monsieur?
It was indeed huge. Large, rectangular, and wrapped in leather, it was taller than she was. It was a painting, of course, but she was usually the one sending her pieces out, not receiving them. And this one was framed! Very unusual.
There was a time when such a delivery had been commonplace — when her father and the rest of her family lived here — but that hadn’t been for years now. And her brothers had been much more likely to receive deliveries of large rocks and marble slabs for their sculptures.
There were no markings to indicate who the sender was. “Let’s put it in my bedroom.” Nerves fluttered around in her stomach. Could Reed have sent it? Foolish thought, she castigated herself. Why would he do that? But love had him always in the forefront of her mind and she couldn’t help herself from wishing it was from him as a token of his affection.
She was relieved when the package reached her bedroom in one piece. It was the only place she dared open it, for she had no idea what it might contain. Once Foster and Ned left, she could be confident of total privacy here.
She asked them to remove it from the thick leather pouch it was enveloped in. It was wrapped inside again, in soft cloth. Thanking them, she assured them she could finish the task on her own.
She was almost afraid to open it. Anxious about what she might find, if it was from Reed. It was wound in long, thick swathes of soft felt. They had placed it standing against her sturdy cheval mirror in the middle of the room. Round and round the frame she walked, having to squeeze between it and the mirror each time, unraveling the material covering the painting. She forced herself not to peek at it. Once it was totally free of its wrapping, she stood with her back to the painting then, closing her eyes, she turned to face it. Taking a shaky breath, she slowly opened them.
“Oh my heavens!” It was from Reed! He had painted her! No one had ever done that before, not even one of her family. Too dull a subject for them to tackle, no doubt.
He’d made her beautiful. She couldn’t pull her eyes away from the painting. She gazed in awe at her image, dressed in her finery, the night of her sister’s party. He had an excellent sense of observation and recall to have replicated d her dress and hair so well. How translucent her skin looked. How huge and deep her eyes appeared, and how soft and... dare she say alluring?... he’d made her lips.
He saw her like that!
A paper was wedged into the side of the frame. A note! Excited, she yanked out the paper. But it wasn’t a note. Why would he send her a newspaper article from... The Times? It was about Lady Christabel! A notice placed by the Duke, her father. Oh my god! On shaky legs, she went to sit on a chair by the window.
Reed’s betrothal announcement! This was his notion of breaking it to her gently! Her heart galloped. Be brave. She forced herself to read the notice. “The Duke of Archstone is pleased to announce his daughter, Lady Christabel’s betrothal to Mr. Spencer Allerton of Evesham. Their wedding will take place on...”
Spencer! Spencer was marrying the Duke’s demanding daughter! He was the groom-to-be, not Reed. When she thought of the parents-in-law the bride was acquiring, for an instant she felt sorry for Lady Christabel. Then, reflecting on that young lady’s behavior, she spared a thought for poor Spence. Of the two, he was more to be pitied.
Suddenly she leapt to her feet. “Foster!” she called.
“Yes, Miss.”
“That was fast.” He must have been waiting around the corner. His eyes glimmered with hope at the change in her voice.
“We’re going to London.”
“We are?” H
e didn’t even try to hide his delight at her decision. “When?”
“At first light tomorrow.” She touched his arm to show him she appreciated his eagerness to return to a city for which he had no fondness.
“So we need to get packing quick like,” he said.
“Yes, we do.” Tally said. “And Foster” she said before he hustled away. “We’ll need to bring that large painting we packed away in the attic.”
* * *
“You’ve come to your senses, I see.” Grandma Lawton said, stating the obvious.
Tally had just been ushered up to meet her grandparent in Eva Lawton’s private sitting room. Tally thought she should live here while she tried to find out what Reed was thinking. Deciding attack was the best form of defense, she said, “You might be interested to know that you were in part responsible for my precipitous departure.”
“I? Never! I even tried to mend...” Her grandmother stopped her justification at Tally’s knowing nod.
“Exactly. The Earl of Merkvale lost no time in coming to see me. To tell me he had arranged a far better match for his son.” She sat down beside her grandmother on the sofa.
“That fool! That interfering nincompoop!” Her grandmother exclaimed, failing to see that she had indulged in her own brand of interference.
Cutting off her grandmother’s imprecations against the Earl, Tally said, “It might not have mattered, Grandma. I had already witnessed the Duke of Archstone’s beautiful daughter visiting her “fiancé” next door.”
“Glory be! You thought she was betrothed to Selwich?”
“She thought she was too!”
“That George Eames! Always trying to control his children’s lives! Not that the Duke isn’t as much to blame, if he let his daughter think she was betrothed before the contract was final.” She paused, having just made some connection. “So that’s why the announcement in the Times. Mr. Spencer Allerton is a huge come down for one such as she.” Grandma wrapped Tally in a warm hug. “You poor dear. How you must have suffered.”
Tally was so moved that someone in her family understood what she’d been going through, even just a small portion of it, she couldn’t talk for the few moments it took to swallow the tears blocking her throat. She’d been feeling so alone, it was nice to have someone on her side. “I hope you don’t mind that I’ve arrived without warning, but you did say I was to feel welcome any time and…” She tapered off. She couldn’t tell her grandmother she’d come back to fight for the man she loved. What if she had misunderstood his tacit message? She hoped his gift was a positive sign and not his way of ending an unhappy episode of his life.
But he’d sent that notice. Surely not just because he knew she’d be interested in Spence’s engagement!
It didn’t matter why he’d sent it. If he wasn’t betrothed to the Duke’s domineering daughter, she was ready to fight for what she now knew she needed to be happy. What she wanted with all her heart.
“I always said you were the bright one.” Her grandparent’s approval made her hope she’d be able to live up to that boast, but Tally didn’t feel very bright at the moment. She’d returned to London, but had no idea how she was going to face Reed after leaving without an explanation. What if he’d changed his mind about her? He hadn’t come to find her in the weeks she’d been home. Maybe he’d just been ridding himself of that painting, because he had no reason to keep it?
For the first time acknowledging Foster, who’d followed Tally into the small salon, her grandmother waved him to a chair. “Sit your aching bones down, Foster. If my grandchild is thoughtless enough to have you traipsing around the countryside at your age, the least I can do is offer you some respite and a spot of tea.”
Foster gave a dry cackle and gladly took the offered seat. These two were of an age and had a history between them that began even before Foster became Great Aunt Ida’s general factotum. It was clear they enjoyed bantering with each other whenever they chanced to be in the same place at the same time. Tally was thankful Grandma Eva had never stood on ceremony with the old soldier. She’d have hated to see him treated like just any servant. To her, he was so much more than that.
Motioning to a footman for refreshments, her grandmother settled back and said, “Now, dear,” she patted Tally’s knee, “tell me why you’ve come back to London.”
So Tally recounted her story. Rather, she told the bare bones of it. She slid over the part where she’d let Reed believe she was his wife, nor did she mention his amnesia. Though his grandmother had, by now, probably mentioned it to Grandma Eva. When she’d finished, she was grateful for the tea that had arrived a few minutes earlier.
“I know for a fact,” Grandma Lawton said, “that Selwich has been searching for you. It will only take a matter of minutes to summon him.” She lifted her hand to tug on the bell-pull conveniently placed on the wall next to the sofa.
“No! Don’t!” Tally stopped her. “I don’t want you to contact him for me. I want to do this by myself.”
Thwarted in her efforts to be the instigating force in Selwich and Talia’s reunion, Lady Lawton was smart enough to know when to let go of the reins. She wasn’t going to be accused of being like Reed’s father! She rolled her eyes at Foster, who chuckled quietly. “You may do so, dear, provided you do it within the week and I trust that, this time, you’ll comport yourself like a young lady should.”
Surely she couldn’t know about Tally shooting Reed! Or about her caring for him, as his sham spouse! How could she have found out?
“Naturally.” Tally frowned at Foster, whose snigger had not been discreet. Of course, she was going to behave like a proper young lady should!
Chapter Thirty-Six
“Damn woman, where the hell is she?” Slouched in a large leather armchair in his bedchamber, comfortable in an ultramarine blue velvet banyan, Reed took another swallow of brandy. He was on his second... or was it his third? He didn’t really care.
He was sulking. He freely admitted it. He’d arrived back from Tally’s home in Evesham, where he’d been told she’d left the day before. Problem was — the only one there, an old woman retainer, told him she had no idea where Miss Tally had gone.
Taking another liberal sip of his drink, he thought of the painting he’d sent to her. While painting it, he’d been certain he was pouring his anger and frustration into it. When he’d put his brushes down and viewed the complete piece, it was clear it had become a declaration of his love for Tally.
Hadn’t she understood that?
While being forced to remain in the capital finishing up interrogations of those involved with the Vanisher, Reed had been rising early and painting feverishly. Mostly images of Tally. He’d always been quick with both sketching pencil and paintbrush, but now he was like a man possessed. Two days ago, he’d completed his second major piece. Unlike the first one, he dared not send this one. Euphoric at his accomplishment and finally freed from his investigation duties, he’d immediately set out yesterday, at daylight, to go find her.
He’d expected her to be back in London, by now. After all, he’d included that newspaper notice. Surely she’d understood!
He suddenly grinned, imagining her reaction to his second painting. A much more evocative one! He raised his glass to where he planned on hanging it once it was framed — on the wall facing his bed. “Here’s to you, my love. Rest assured I will find you, no matter how long it takes.”
He stood up. Too quickly! His head reeled a little. Clearly he’d had more than enough to drink.
Putting down his glass, he wandered into Tally’s room. His former bedroom. But, although she’d left this house weeks ago, he hadn’t been able to move back in here. Every time he entered, traces of her lavender scent set his senses spinning and made him miss her more. He would use this room again, after she was there to share it with him.
He went to the open window to breath in fresh air. It might stop his head from swirling. He looked out, though what he expected to see he didn’t know. On
this side of the house, he couldn’t see the street and, even if he could, there was no more Jace or Max keeping an eye on the place. No more Foster and his Missy getting themselves into trouble. She wasn’t even in London! A fact which left him moping around, feeling bereft and lonely.
Suddenly the leaves of the ivy beneath the window started shaking quite vigorously. He hadn’t realized there was such a robust wind this evening.
What wind? Glancing around, he saw that there was barely any breeze at all. He peered down into the vines.
Ah hell! Someone was climbing up the vine! He wasn’t ready to deal with this tonight.
He should get his pistol. He thought about it, then remained where he was. The vine was no longer strong enough to support a man’s weight. The prowler climbing the wall was about to take a bad fall. And probably break his neck...!
Damn, he supposed he was going to have to warn him.
“Stupid branch! Let go of my jacket!”
Tally! A wide grin lit his face; joyous laughter about to bubble from his lips. An impulse that evaporated almost immediately. What was she thinking, putting herself in danger like this?
He leaned out as far as he could and grabbed hold of the largest branch. Trying not to frighten her into letting go, he said calmly and quietly, “Do you need any help?”
“Aa… ach!” Tally choked back a scream. Staggered by Reed’s disembodied voice floating down from right above her, her hand slipped and she almost toppled from the branch on which she was half-perched. “Ho–” she scrabbled to get a secure grip, even as she gritted out her question, “how did you know I was here?”
“Elephants could be quieter.” He quipped, leaning his elbows on the window ledge.
“Humph!” She grumbled.
“You sound just like Foster.”
“It looked a lot easier from the bottom.” She complained. “Perhaps, instead of mocking me, you would be kind enough to help me the rest of the way up?” Her arms and hands were trembling from the effort it was taking to pull herself up. She wasn’t sure she was going to make it.
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