Miss Taygete’s Sweet Sister’s Society (The Spinster’s Society) (A Regency Romance Book)

by Charlotte Stone

  The study’s door was open, and Lord Harving was shouting at two red-breasted policemen.

  “The incompetence!” The old gentleman ran a hand through his snow-white hair as he paced back and forth behind his desk. “Your entire entity is a farce. How in the bloody hell have you not found the painting by now? It’s bigger than either of you and probably worth more than the two of you put together.”

  Hugh looked at the large blank space above the mantle and a few new thoughts formed in his mind.

  The policemen’s faces were expressionless as they stared at Harving. They were either being smart and holding back their anger or acting even smarter and feeling nothing at all. Though the man was always angry, he rarely remembered what he was angry about an hour later, which only made those who had to listen angrier.

  The butler didn’t bother to announce Hugh. He simply bowed and fled as quickly as he could, the sound of his heels against the floor drowned out by Harving.

  “What must I do to have my painting found?” Harving asked. “Bribe you?” He stopped and narrowed his eyes at the two officers then lowered his voice. “Or perhaps it would be better that I threaten you?”

  That got the men’s attention. They both straightened, and their expressions became stone.

  Hugh thought it time he stepped in. “Lord Harving.”

  The older man’s brown eyes turned to him, and the man visibly relaxed. His shoulders fell, and his face softened. “Lord Edvoy.” His calmness lasted for two seconds before he became a tyrant once more. “I called for you days ago.”

  Hugh walked farther into the room and introduced himself to the other two men in the room, Mr. Broom and Mr. Yves. Yves, as the younger of the two, seemed to be around Hugh’s age, while Mr. Boom seemed to be in his early forties. Both men’s eyes told Hugh that they’d done well in their careers. They also seemed irritated to be in Harving’s office. Once the introductions were out of the way, Hugh eased himself into a chair. “I was away on personal matters.”

  “Personal matters?” Harving asked as though Hugh had said he’d taken a trip to the middle of the ocean. The old man pointed at his own chest. “My father’s painting is missing.”

  A maid came in and offered Hugh tea. He took the offer as well as a few sips before speaking again, all the while trying to hold back a laugh at the thought of how different this meeting would be if Harving was yelling at Aaron. The old man, marquess or not, would have found himself shoved into a wall with his throat between Aaron’s fingers.

  Thankfully, Hugh had learned patience long ago and, compared to every other issue he was dealing with at the moment, Harving didn’t startle him. “Tell me about the painting.”

  The old man’s breath had grown heavy while Hugh made him wait, but wait he would, because there was one thing both men knew. Hugh was good at finding things. Since he enjoyed the mystery of the hunt so greatly, he usually did it for a very low fee.

  However, Hugh now realized that instead of taking money he didn’t need, he should have been collecting favors. That’s what Morris would have done in order to have power.

  “It was my father’s final portrait.” Harving straightened before falling into his chair and leaning forward. He pointed toward the mantle. “That portrait has sat there for the last forty years, and now it’s gone. Someone is out to get me.”

  Hugh could only imagine how long the list of suspects was. Harving probably blamed the entire city… and he’d be right to do so, because if Hugh had been a different man with less on his plate, he might have stolen the portrait himself just to get under Harving’s skin. “How long has it been gone?”

  “Five days!” Harving’s eyes went wild, and he swept a hand through his hair again. His eyes fell to the desk. “It’s probably in China by now.”

  Hugh stopped himself just short of rolling his eyes.

  The old man frowned. “It’s probably hanging in the emperor’s palace.”

  This time, Hugh did roll his eyes. “I’m sure it’s in the city, my lord.”

  Harving looked up and glared. “Well, if you’d come when I called, it would have been found by now.”

  Hugh took the words as a compliment and then turned to Mr. Broom and Mr. Yves. “Where have you looked?”

  Mr. Yves said, “We looked around the house first.”

  “Incompetent!” Harving shouted again.

  Broom came to the defense. “You’ve children living here. This could easily have been done in jest.”

  Hugh had thought the same and was glad to know Broom and Yves were not as incompetent as Harving tried to make them seem. Harving had married ten years ago to his second wife after the first died. His second wife, Lady Liz, was young, pretty, and had given birth to three children, a boy and two girls. However, Harving’s first wife had already given him his heir and spare and Lord Windmere, his eldest, was about Hugh’s age. They didn’t speak, since Windmere was a Cambridge alumnus, but Hugh could not deny that he was a good man.

  “Where else have you looked? Hugh asked.

  “At Lord Windmere’s,” Yves said.

  Harving slammed his hands on the table. “Fools! My son would never take the painting. He knows what it means to me.”

  “You and your son are at odds,” Broom said.

  Harving’s head jerked up, and his eyes widened while the left one twitched. “Are you accusing a lord of the realm of theft?”

  Broom shut his mouth, knowing he might have crossed the line.

  But it was a line Hugh would have crossed as well. Everyone knew Harving and his son were at such vicious odds that they’d almost broken into fisticuffs at their club two weeks ago.

  “It is at Lord Windmere’s home?” Hugh asked the men.

  Broom shook his head. “Lord Windmere let us have a look at the place. We found no painting.”

  “Of course you did not!” Harving shot up from his chair and leaned on the table as he faced the officers. “Your services are no longer needed, and tell your superiors the same. I could very well have raised Louis Bellarose from the dead and commissioned him to paint the damned portrait again before either of you found it. You may leave.”

  “Wait.” Hugh looked over his shoulder and saw that the men had already started to depart, but at Hugh’s call, they turned back with sour expressions. They wanted out and away from Harving. It was understandable, but Hugh needed them to answer as many questions as possible before he could let them go. He then turned back to Harving and said, “Louis Bellarose painted the portrait?”

  “Well, of course, he did.” Harving glared at Hugh. “I believe I've said this already.”

  “You didn’t,” Broom said.

  “Leave!” Harving shouted. “Leave!” The second time, he stretched it out and flashed small pointy teeth, making the man look half rat.

  Broom and Yves vanished after that, far quicker than Hugh could stop them. He decided if he needed the men, he could find them, but Harving may have just given Hugh the clue he needed to find the painting. “Did you tell the police the painting had been done by Louis Bellarose?”

  Harving scoffed and fell into his chair. “Of course, I didn’t. You don’t tell poor people such things. I had to make sure the painting only held personal value. That way, they were less likely to steal it for themselves… the savages.” He said the last as though there were a bad taste in his mouth.

  Hugh decided at that very moment that he would not be doing Harving any favors for a low fee. He’d charge him, and he’d charge him a grand price.

  Then he looked at Hugh. “I should have called you before. You and I, we’re much alike.”

  They were nothing alike, but Hugh kept that point to himself as he stood. “I know someone who enjoys Bellarose’s work. If they have it, I’ll force them to hand it over.”

  Harving shot to his feet. “Who are they? I demand to know! I’ll have then hanged by their toes! A rope for each one.” The man held his thumb and forefinger an inch apart and hissed, “Even the small ones.”


  Hugh pressed his lips together to keep from laughing. “I’ll not say,” he said as he finally managed to control himself. “But if I find the painting, you’ll have to give me something in return.”

  “What?” Harving crossed his arms and waited.

  “Lord Windmere comes to a party the Men of Nashwood are hosting two days hence, and he dances with my sisters.” Windmere was also a handsome gentleman, spoke without a hint of a nasal, and would inherit a title and wealth. And though Hugh would hate to be related to Lord Harving, there were worse things… though it would take him some time to recall what those worse things were.

  Harving stared at Hugh and sighed. For the first time since Hugh walked into the room, the man looked uncertain. “I don’t know if… Windmere is available.”

  What he meant was he didn’t know if his son was available to speak to his own father. No one knew what the two were fighting about and Hugh didn’t have the luxury to care. He needed bachelors at the party. “Do you want the painting?”

  Harving blinked as he was pulled from his thoughts. “Yes.”

  “Then have Windmere agree to come to my party.”

  Harving straightened and asked, “Are your sisters worth it?”

  Hugh lifted a brow and thought of Alcyone and Electra. They put half the women of the ton to shame. “Your son could do no better.”

  Harving sighed then nodded. “Very well, but I want the painting back by this evening.”

  “Done.” Hugh left the room, walked out of the house, and stepped into his carriage. He knew exactly who had the painting and decided the matter could wait until later. At the moment, he wanted to get home.

  Taygete, her mother, and sisters were entertaining callers, most of the Spinsters. Hugh had woken up glad to have them all under his roof and Taygete at his table in the morning.

  She’d taken a seat far from his usual place at the table and, just to unnerve her, he took a chair and placed it at her side. The footmen had moved to organize the tables, silverware, and cups, and Hugh grinned as Taygete had glared at him.

  If they’d been alone and without an audience, he’d have kissed her.

  He couldn’t believe he’d waited this long to act on his feelings and realized that once he’d made the decision to make her his wife, he’d not felt any worry about his future. So long as she was in it, everything would be all right.

  Convincing her of the same would take time. For reasons he didn’t know, she would not accept his suit. He thought it was because of Maia, but that didn’t make sense to him. Maia had been gone for seven years, and Maia had never been one to cling to anger. She’d taken her responsibility as the eldest sister to heart, showing the way for her young siblings, teaching them forgiveness.

  Maia had deserved so much better than him, but Hugh had found a true amount of affection for her. He’d have never strayed, not even to have Taygete. He’d have been faithful to her in all things, treating her like the gift to his life that she’d been. The birth of Artemis had begun to fill that hole of emptiness he’d had in him after his father’s death, and he had Maia to thank for the time he’d had with his daughter.

  He wondered what his and Taygete’s children would look like. The thought of one of them looking like Artemis or even Maia was discomforting. The women all looked alike and even at only a few months old, Artemis had been just as beautiful as her mother and aunts.

  But she’d had his eyes, a dark blue. He’d not been upset that his firstborn had been a girl like some other lords might have been. He hadn’t cared that they’d have to try again for an heir. From the moment she’d been born, Artemis had taken possession of his heart.

  If only he’d had a portrait done of her. He’d have been just as possessive of it as Harving was of the portrait of his own father.

  He put those dark thoughts away as the carriage arrived at his house. He held himself back from sprinting toward the sitting room, coming to an abrupt stop at the door.

  The sight that greeted his eyes confused him. A handsome man stood there, dressed in a navy coat with gold buttons. Hugh knew he was in the military, but it was who he’d been sitting close to when Hugh walked into the room that gave away exactly who he was.

  He’d thought he’d had more time before Commander Nicholson came calling, but apparently, the man was just as determined to have Taygete as he was.

  Mary and Electra both held worried expressions. Alcyone was nowhere to be seen. Hugh decided he’d ask after her once he got rid of Nicholson.

  His eyes moved to Taygete, and he swore he saw a small smile at the corner of her lips.

  This scene had been her idea and had Hugh not been the other man, he might have laughed or even congratulated her for her cleverness. Instead, he was going to have to show her who was cleverer.

  The soldier approached Hugh and bowed. “My lord. I hope I am not intruding, but I knew the family and wished to pay a visit. I’m Master and Commander Nicholson.” He’d not said the last with any hint of boasting, but with words like ‘master’ and ‘commander’ in the statement, one didn’t need to boast. It was as though he’d just announced himself as God. One did not say more after that.

  “How nice that you could visit,” Hugh said. “But I’m afraid we’ll have to cut the visit short.”

  “But he just got here,” Taygete said.

  Hugh kept his eyes from widening at those words. The commander had just arrived, and he’d already managed to be sitting that close to Taygete’s side? He stared at the man and watched the commander’s smile widen. He was enjoying Taygete’s attention.

  This would end now.

  “Very well. The commander may stay, but Taygete and I have somewhere to be,” Hugh said plainly.

  He noted that he'd caught the man off guard. Hugh was not taking the entire family, but the one he wished to be near.

  Taygete stood, and a small frown pulled the ends of her mouth down. “Where are we going?” She looked near panic, which made Hugh’s mouth twitch.

  “To make arrangements for the party,” he told her, meeting her eyes. “You do wish for the party to go well, don’t you?” He knew those words would get to her. Her entire mission in London was to see her sisters happily married whether or not she and he were at odds.

  He watched as Taygete tried to come up with a way out and that was when Hugh decided to move. He was across the room in seconds and then rushing her from the room in the next. “Good day, Commander Nicholson.”

  “Do visit again,” Taygete said over her shoulder.

  “Nothing will keep me away, Angel,” the commander said.

  Hugh had to fight to keep his feet from not turning around so he could punch the man in the face. Angel? He didn’t like that. The term was intimate and conveyed an intimacy that Hugh didn’t have with her. But instead, he tightened his hold on Taygete’s arm and nearly broke into a run to get her out of the house.

  “Hugh, you were quite rude back there,” she said once they were at the door.

  When Hugh looked at her, whatever his expression was, it caused her to close her lips and turn away. He was likely glaring.

  He was sure he was glaring.

  And whether or not Taygete knew it, he was seconds away from exploding.

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  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

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  Taygete could tell that Hugh was irritated and kept her mouth closed during most of the ride, but truly she had so much to say.

  The first thing was the decision she’d arrived at that very morning after receiving a letter from Commander Nicholson that informed her he was in town and wished to visit. There had been no question as to how he’d found her. He’d come to dinner the night before they’d left, and Electra had told him enthusiastically about her plans for London. Her sister had shared where they would be staying and for just how lo
ng, so Taygete had always known there was a possibility that the commander would come looking for her.

  And he had, which had given Taygete her last hope at never marrying Hugh and ensuring she never had to tell her secret about the letter to Maia.

  She would marry Nicholson.

  She’d not told the commander that as of yet, but she foresaw everything moving swiftly. Of course, he’d have to allow her to see her sisters through the rest of the Season, then she could return to Southampton.

  She recalled thinking his home pleasant. He had been grand enough to house a duke. She’d had to climb two staircases to reach his room and during that journey, she’d taken everything in. She could tell that from his position he was well paid and didn’t want her for her money.

  And he’d made it clear just how much he wanted her today. His nearness had not been unpleasant and in seconds, her nervousness at having encouraged him vanished. He’d made her laugh and even Electra and her mother had laughed as well, though she could tell that they were not as pleased to see Nicholson as she’d been.

  Still, they’d get used to his presence once she told them her plans.

  They’d simply have to.

  And Hugh would have to get used to the idea as well.

  She chose that moment to tell him so. “I plan to marry Commander Nicholson, so it would be in our best interest if we all managed to get along.”

  She’d been prepared for his reaction to be anger but jumped back in her chair as she glimpsed not only anger but rage.

  He was on her in seconds. He moved so quickly that she’d only been able to get out a short shout before he engulfed her. His arms went around her, and in the next blink, she was lifted and pulled into his lap. She settled there just as the carriage went over a bump. Hugh’s hands went to her cheeks and forced her face up to his. “Stop it,” he growled.